‘Why yes, but—’
‘Then that is where I shall have to go too. I must prevent whatever she intends.’ She got to her feet. ‘We will finish this reckoning when I am back. I suggest you return to the palace and confess your crime, or else ready yourself for what must come next.’
‘There is one thing alone I shall do now,’ he called out, as she abandoned him on the quay. ‘I have a matter of honour to settle with that … witch.’
‘Then do what you must,’ she said, already passed from his earshot. ‘As I must follow Virgo – though she lead me to the very edge of war.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Public coach or privately hired horse? That was her first dilemma. The thought of a warm coach was appealing, but she was restricted by the timetable; moreover, she was still uncertain how much she should be seen in public. With a mount of her own, she had the freedom to set out whenever she liked, and could push the horse to the pace she needed. Then again, if the weather were foul, the country tracks churning into mud, the trip would be worse than misery, to say nothing of the highwaymen that could be lying in wait.
She looked to the sky. It wasn’t raining yet. She knew how to ride fast.
And as for highwaymen, well. She had survived the arrows of the Indians.
A quick trip to her goldsmiths in Lombard Street, to raid her father’s scant inheritance. A hard negotiation at a stables in the east of the city, failing to convince the wily owner she wasn’t desperate for the swiftest horse she had. A promise to return the steed soon, and not to ride too fast. A successful deception on that score, at least.
After returning to St Helen’s church to meet her transport back to Zion, she spent a second night in the safe house, asking Phibae to arrange an early start to take her to the stables at first light. In good condition, a horse might manage up to thirty miles a day: from experience, she knew it took two days for a coach to travel the sixty miles to London from Oxford. She was fortunate, then – the horse less so, perhaps – that May was turning into June, and the mornings began early, the evenings ended late.
She rode the eighty miles to Harwich in two and a half days: thirty-five miles on the first day, straight through to Chelmsford, with a brief stop of hours at an inn; twenty-five the day after, the horse tiring from its exertion, forcing her to stop at Colchester, impatiently awaiting the dawn. The final stretch brought Sole Bay into view, and by then she must almost have caught the King’s party, settled into their quarters after what had doubtless been a swift ride of their own.
It was noon, the sun directly overhead, plenty of light in the bright, blue sky by which to enjoy the glorious sight further out in the bay: the massed English fleet, upwards of a hundred ships, waiting for the order to sail. Away in the distance, a blast of cannon fire echoed off the cliffs from an unseen enemy as if in mocking welcome: a brief skirmish off the coast, perhaps, before the real event.
The town was bursting with people. She tied her exhausted horse at a stables on the edge of town before pushing her way to the marketplace. A group of girls was blocking a narrow flight of steps, laughing at everything they saw, and she stopped to ask them where she might find a place to rest. But they merely laughed all the more.
‘Haven’t you seen how many’s here, with the war? All the inns are full.’
Her heart sank. ‘All of them?’
‘King’s at the Three Cups.’ One of the girls stood up tall. ‘The King! Here in little Harwich. And all those ships in the bay … we’re the most important place in England now!’
‘I suppose you are.’ She tugged at her collar, wondering what to do. ‘If the King is at the Three Cups, what of the other noblemen?’
‘Don’t know.’ The girl pointed across the square, where a red-robed official had his nose turned up and his neck chained in gold. ‘Ask him.’
And the girls descended into giggles.
Mercia crossed to the officious man. ‘Excuse me,’ she said. ‘Could you help me?’
A broad smile broke upon his face. ‘I hope so, my beauty.’
‘I have come from London with one of the King’s war council. Could you tell me where they are based?’
‘The Three Cups, my lovely. King and his council, Duke of York too.’
‘Sir William Calde?’
‘That’s right, my precious.’
‘Sir Stephen Herrick? Sir Geoffrey Allcot?’
He nodded his response. ‘And that delightful young lady of his. Got her the best room, just as Sir Geoffrey demanded. The best after the King’s, at least.’ He scratched at his ear. ‘And the Duke’s. Do you know her? Lady Cartwright?’
‘Indeed I do.’
‘Then I trust we have assuaged her distemper. I know this is not the palace, but we do our best.’
‘She is not staying with her husband, then?’
‘Sir Geoffrey was most insistent, and I do like to oblige these best of men.’
‘I am sure.’ She chewed her lips, thinking: she did not want to be seen by the council yet, and there were other avenues she had to pursue first. ‘What of the other noblemen?’ she asked. ‘Are they aboard their ships?’
‘Some are. Most are still waiting. It was I, my sweet, who arranged all their affairs.’
She allowed him a smile. ‘Then tell me, sir. Where may I find Henry Raff?’
Hood up, she waited on the edge of the square. Men were walking everywhere, dressed in all sorts of cloth, from the most sublime silk of the officers staying at the inns to the roughest hemp of the ordinary tars already billeted to their shipboard hammocks. There were women too, as Sir Francis had intimated: wives and children come for their loved ones, and a great many others of a less familial sort.
‘Mercia?’
She looked up to see an elegantly groomed man standing above her, a puzzled frown marring his handsome face.
‘Hello, Henry. Are you that surprised to see me?’
‘Very. I had been told – in London – there was an altercation or some such?’
‘Some such.’ She got to her feet. ‘Shall we talk somewhere more private?’
She led him from the busy square to the edge of town, where houses gave way to fields. In the corner of a meadow, a herd of lazy cows sat sprawled on the grass, merging into one loud bovine mass. It was shadier here, and nobody much was about.
‘Where I want you at last,’ he grinned. ‘Alone, in the shadows.’
‘Henry. This is not the time.’
‘You mean you did not travel here to see me?’
‘Stop laughing, Henry. I need to beg a favour.’
‘Oh?’
‘I know I have no right to ask, and I hope I can … I need to be able to trust you.’
‘Mercia.’ He swept to take her hand. ‘You can trust me. You know it.’
‘I would ask Sir William, but he is occupied, and quartered too close to … certain others.’
He looked at her a moment, his head cocked. But then he nodded.
‘Pray, ask.’
‘Thank you. When does the fleet sail?’
‘As soon as the Dutch are descried off the coast. Perhaps you heard the cannon shot before?’
‘Could it be tonight?’
‘Very likely. We may put out at a moment’s notice. To speak true, I am surprised the order is not already given. But from what I hear, we shall wait until this evening.’
‘But the common sailors are already embarked?’
‘Yes. Only the principal officers remain on land, especially with the King in town. Everyone wants to impress. And you know yourself what quarters are like aboard ships.’
‘Henry, I need to get aboard the Royal Charles.’
His easy manner faltered. ‘Whatever for?’
‘I need to speak with my manservant. I cannot say much about it, save it is a matter of importance.’
His laughter turned nervous. ‘Mercia, I cannot simply take you to the flagship. I know there are still women and children near, but with our departure
imminent, most have already left. When I said the Duke is expected to give the order this very evening, it was not in jest. He takes command within hours.’
She squeezed his hand. ‘Henry, if I do not get on that ship, men could die.’
‘Well, Mercia, I know you are beautiful, but even so …’
‘This is no time for merriment! Will you aid me or not?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘My, you are serious. But the Royal Charles is not my ship. I have to prepare to join my own, to serve as its lieutenant.’
‘You must know someone on it. Or … shall I be forced to ask Giles Malvern for help?’
‘Who?’
‘You recall the sword fight in Hyde Park? He is in the fleet too.’
‘Oh, him. Even so, I—’
‘Do not tell me you lack the authority.’
‘No, but …’ He blew out his cheeks. ‘How long will you need?’
‘Not long. Please, Henry. Will you help?’
He looked at her for several seconds, but then he smiled. ‘Mercia, you asked me once why I preferred you to other women.’
‘Younger women, I believe I said.’
‘Well, this is why.’ He pulled her gently by the hand. ‘Come, then. It will certainly be more interesting than playing at dice until the Duke finally leaves. Let us find a boat to row us out.’
The bay between shore and fleet was busy, men and provisions being ferried all the time, and it was not hard for Raff to appropriate a boat to take them out: used to obeying orders, the oarsman barely queried Mercia’s presence.
‘Here.’ Raff threw her an apple from an overflowing crate. ‘I wager you have not eaten yet.’
‘That’s for the men, my lord!’ protested the oarsman, but Raff gave him a look and he fell silent.
‘Thank you,’ she said, crunching the unblemished green skin with relish. ‘Apples and the sea. I would never have thought those scents matched.’
He smiled. ‘We shall have to do this again. A day on a placid lake somewhere, in more pleasant circumstances.’
‘Henry, after this, I shall join you on a boat anywhere.’
‘I shall insist on it.’
She took a deep breath, for in truth the salty air was as evocative as it was intoxicating, reminding her of the long months she had spent on the ocean. Yet her journey today was not quite so long, a mere fifteen minutes before they came along the first of the lined-up ships – the Mary, the Royal Catherine, the St. George – until the massive bulk of the Royal Charles itself rose directly before them. Its creaking stern bobbed in the waves, the proud royal arms vaunting their colourful display, all lion and unicorn and Dieu et Mon Droit.
Pulling alongside, the oarsman called for a ladder. ‘Will you manage, my lady?’ he asked, and in spite of herself she laughed. But Raff still went first, helping her onto deck as she eased herself up. Her arms ached more than she would have thought; perhaps her weeks on land had made her complacent.
‘My,’ she said, stroking the smooth rail of the deck as she stared up the height of the mainmast. ‘I never thought I should say so, but it is good to return aboard a ship.’ She chuckled as Raff stumbled at a lurch in the waves while she managed to hold herself steady. ‘You will become accustomed to it.’
‘An unlucky turn,’ he said.
‘Luck has little to do with it.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Now could we find my man?’
She need not have asked. Seconds later, a sailor dropped from the rigging above and was about to hold out his hands in astonished greeting when he checked himself, busying himself instead with a length of rope near her feet.
‘Mercia,’ whispered Nicholas. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you.’
She looked away, pretending to admire the ship’s magnificence. ‘Hold a moment,’ she mumbled, hand before her mouth. ‘We needs must speak.’
By now the ship’s master had been alerted to her presence. His gait erect, he marched across the deck towards them.
‘My lord,’ he said, sizing up Raff’s fine attire. ‘I thought all the women had returned to shore.’
‘I have invited this lady to the flagship myself,’ said Raff.
‘At this late hour?’
Raff raised an eyebrow. ‘Take care how you address me, my man. This lady is no common hanger-on. She is the woman who travelled to America for the King.’
‘Oh?’ The master looked on Mercia with interest. ‘I did not realise you were in Harwich, my lady.’
‘Yes,’ she said, looking at Raff askance, bemused at her unexpected status. ‘I have come to have a strong admiration for the fleet, as well you might imagine.’
‘And you wish to see the flagship.’ The master nodded. ‘I understand, my lady, but if the order is given, I shall have to demand that you leave.’
‘Who is in charge of our ships, Master?’ said Raff. ‘We officers, I believe. Besides, the fleet is not due to depart for some hours.’
‘I am aware of that, my lord, but still, I would have liked to—’
‘Return to your duties, man. We shall stay only as long as my lady wishes, when I shall remove her offensive presence from what is clearly your ship, and not the King’s.’
‘My lord, I did not mean—’
‘You must have cannon and powder to check. We do not want a repeat of the London, do we? Not with the Duke coming aboard at any moment.’
The master could not help but narrow his eyes. ‘The ship, my lord, is perfect. As you will see when you look – quickly – around.’
He bowed and marched off. Leaving Nicholas with the rope and instructions to join her momentarily, Mercia accompanied Raff on a brief tour of the deck. After a few minutes’ cursory exploration, they sidestepped capstan and winch to pass into that section of the ship where the officers’ cabins lay. Checking at doors until she found one empty, she turned round.
‘Henry,’ she said. ‘Could you get word to my man to meet me in here? While we speak, perhaps you could take the chance to learn more of this ship, for the upcoming battle. I am sure your captain will approve.’
He followed her inside the small room. ‘I will, if I get something in return.’
He shut the door and hemmed her against it, his hand on the wall to the right of her shoulder. Then he pushed his body against hers.
‘I will stop if you want,’ he said. ‘But surely, a kiss will not hurt?’
She widened her eyes. ‘Henry, I do not expect—’
‘Nor do I.’ His face was hovering inches from hers, but he made no move to bring it closer. ‘I simply ask, because you are beautiful, and sometimes I have been told so am I. And because tonight, I may sail to war.’
She looked into his eyes, and for that instant all she could see was the voluminous blue. She felt her breathing quicken, falling in time with his. And then she thought – thoughts unknown – and laying her hand on the back of his head, she pulled it towards hers, and she kissed him, deeply, feeling his warm lips, his slow tongue, smelling the scent of his skin. Then she pulled away, and so did he, and they stared at each other as if both needed more.
‘That is the first time I have done that for years,’ she said.
He breathed out and smiled. ‘Then let us hope it is not the last for years to come.’
‘It was a kiss, Henry. It does not mean anything more.’
‘No.’ He glanced at the small bed in the corner. ‘But yes, it was a kiss. A kiss worth waiting for.’ He gestured towards the door. ‘Before I lose myself, let me fetch your man.’
As she waited, she smiled. What was she thinking? She was on a warship in the middle of the bay, on a matter of great importance to the King and to herself, the fleet about to sail to war at any moment, and instead she had allowed herself to kiss a man. The idea was absurd, and yet …
She shook her head, looking around the small cabin, listening to the sound of the creaking wood. There was a pile of papers on a desk, and she glanced at the sheet on top, but it was blank. The bed was unmade and unslept in, t
he officer destined for this room clearly still waiting in Harwich. Then the door pushed slowly open and she stiffened lest it were a member of the crew, but the sailor who entered was familiar.
‘Nicholas.’ A huge beam of a smile broke out across her face. ‘It is wonderful to see you.’
He grinned. ‘Did you miss me so much you had to ride all the way from London?’
‘Still full of cheek, I see. How have you liked your few days as a sailor again?’
‘Well enough. ’Tis good to be around … normal men again, and out of the palace.’
‘I can understand that. The palace becomes stuffy, even for me.’
‘How is Daniel?’ he asked.
‘Well. Hopefully it will not be long now until I can take him home.’ She gestured to the bed, while she sat in the chair behind the officer’s desk. ‘Have a rest.’
He collapsed onto the bunk. ‘My, this is less comfortable than my hammock. Quieter in here, mind.’
‘Can you sleep?’
He pushed up on his elbows. ‘We’ve been sailing around a bit. They expect us to put out tomorrow, this evening even. I don’t think you’d best stay.’
She grew serious. ‘Nicholas, I think Virgo and Gemini might be on the verge of some kind of attempt. I do not yet know what, but the King and his council are here, and they have brought the women with them. That is why I have come – to find her out and prevent it.’
‘In truth? Did you not come with Sir William?’
‘Since you left there have been … difficulties.’ Briefly she summarised all that had happened: the Tower of London; Southwark; the warehouse.
‘This is why I shouldn’t leave you,’ he said, his face pure dismay. ‘You always find trouble.’
‘I think ’tis more that trouble finds me. Have you seen Giles Malvern while you have been here?’
‘’Tis as he said, his ship is close. He’s come to the Royal Charles twice, as far as I know, but he hasn’t spoken to me. I think maybe he comes in case I’ve anything to say, though he’s given me a signal to make if I need him.’
Traitor Page 29