‘What are you doing helping us?’ I demanded, once I had caught my breath and tottered my way to a stool.
It was a big room, this, with a ceiling that was high overhead. There was no fire in the grate, but we were not going to be upset about that, not when we compared it with the damp cold of the prison cell where we had been installed for so long. It was richly decorated, with a series of paintings on the limewashed walls, and tapestries hanging over any of the draughtier areas. The panelled walls were carved into fabulous shapes, with roses and shields picked out in bright colours, and overall, even without the fire, I gained a firm impression of bright colour and a warm, comfortable atmosphere.
I gazed at her as Lady Anne stood in the middle of this beauty, and I came to the conclusion that she was embarrassed. ‘Why did you rescue us?’ I said.
Suddenly, her face crumpled. She looked as though she had aged fifteen years while I spoke. She sank to a stool and put her face in her hands.
‘She had little choice,’ Blount said. He walked to her and stood before her, with his back to me. ‘This brave lady has saved us, Jack, and that’s all we need to know.’
‘I overheard you speaking in the prison,’ she said, and she peered over Blount’s shoulder at me as though begging my forgiveness. ‘I couldn’t help it, I swear!’
‘What?’ I said, baffled. She seemed to be speaking in riddles, and I was in no mood for such games. I was sore, bruised, bloodied and anxious, so perhaps my tone was a little more peremptory than it should have been when I said, ‘Speak up, woman! You’re not some snivelling maiden of four and ten years – you’re a grown lady! Speak plainly!’
‘I did it!’ she said clearly, and then burst into tears.
Blount turned to me with a face as black as a cauldron’s base. ‘You spoke bravely, Jack! Oh, yes! Why don’t you beat her, too?’
‘She said she did it? Did what?’ I said, still confused.
‘I took the Princess’s seal. I wanted to remove her. She believes in this new heretical belief, and she will persuade her sister the Queen to give up her Catholic faith if we are not careful!’
‘You took her seal? You stole it from Lady Margery? What did you do with it?’
She stood and flung her arms wide. ‘I thought it would help us all. I wrote a letter as though it was from the Lady Elizabeth, asking for her vassals to be called to her aid, and I sealed it,’ Lady Anne said, sobbing. She put her face into her hands, but I thought I saw her eye glancing up at me between her fingers. It made me suspicious.
‘And because of you, we’ve been incarcerated in the dungeon!’ I said. I was not content with her tale, or her manner. ‘You tell us that you willingly spread the rumour so that the Princess would be taken? Didn’t you think what that could mean for the likes of me? For us?’ I added quickly.
‘I didn’t think about the consequences for others such as you! I am so sorry!’
I found my brows rising on hearing her confession. It would make sense. The silly woman had taken the Princess’s seal, made up a dangerous letter, and made sure that it would be discovered by someone. ‘You did that? Made up a letter as though it came from Princess Elizabeth?’
‘It was an easy enough thing to do. I wrote it carefully, in the style she uses, and signed it with a fair copy of her signature. I need not even declare where it was found. I told my father that I had discovered it, but that I couldn’t tell him who gave it to me. That way, he thought I had the ear of one of the maidservants or a lady-in-waiting. He needed little else. But I couldn’t persuade him to act. He said that the fact the letter had been intercepted was enough for now, but I had to make certain that the letter was seen, so I told Sir Walter, and he spoke with the Coroner.’
‘How long have you had the seal?’ Blount said.
‘Some days.’
‘And where is it now?’
Her head held high, she shot me a defiant look. ‘I threw it away,’ she said. Her look dared me to call her a liar.
There were steps approaching the main door. Blount stepped forward, thrusting Lady Anne behind him. I remained where I was. My legs would not permit me to move quickly in their present condition.
As the door opened, we saw Sir Henry Bedingfield outlined in the doorframe. He was so surprised that he did not so much as pause, but continued marching in, his speed gradually slowing until he came to a halt near his daughter like a ship losing her wind. ‘What … what is this? Anne, what are you doing here with these felons?’
‘Father, you must listen to me,’ she said, and crossed the floor to him. Clinging to his robes, she sobbed a bit, and gradually confessed all that she had told us. ‘Father, I wrote that letter. I sealed it, and threw away the seal afterwards. It was all me.’
‘Dear God in Heaven,’ he whispered, and now I saw what people mean when they say that they have seen a broken man.
His face paled – indeed, the colour fled from his ruddy cheeks so swiftly that Blount and I feared that he might fall. Both of us hurried forward, and while Blount took him by the shoulder, I pulled a chair forward for him. Bedingfield half sat, half fell into the seat, staring up at his daughter. She was weeping prolifically, and now she arranged her skirts and placed herself at his feet. No mean feat with the petticoats and other feminine aspects of her dress. She looked as though she would never be able to rise again, as though she had erupted from the floor itself, and was fixed there by her dress.
‘I am so sorry, Father. But at least this means we can escape this horrible place and return home.’
‘No! I will not see that Lady executed because of a lie you have fabricated!’ he said firmly. ‘You cannot suggest such a thing, child.’
I was bemused. ‘What would you do?’
‘I must go and confess that I have learned that the Princess’s story was true, that her seal was lost, and that someone fabricated the letter.’
‘You cannot, Father! I will be punished for this,’ Lady Anne said brokenly.
‘No, I will take the responsibility for it,’ Sir Henry said, his hand idly stroking her head like a man petting a favoured hound.
‘You cannot,’ Blount said. ‘If you do, the deceit will soon become plain. First, Sir Walter and his friend the Coroner will be questioned. They will soon tell all they can. Then the questioners will go to you to learn what you know as well. There is no escape from such people. You know that. And you have the added difficulty that you are known to the Queen, don’t you? She would perhaps look with more kindness on others, but in your case she will remember you were gaoler to her mother. The fact that you have been devoted to her service will not measure in her estimation.’
‘I was one of the few in Norfolk who rallied to the Queen in the first days of her reign,’ Sir Henry said, but his voice told how unconvinced he was.
‘You were one of the very few who rallied, yes,’ Blount said. ‘You were one of the men who ignored the proposal of installing Lady Jane Grey on the throne and instead threw your lot behind Mary. She has been grateful to you for that. But she has a long memory, as a Queen must, and she knew that this was a test for you. A reward, yes, a position which others would see as a proof of her faith in you; however, it was a double-edged proof, for it also gave you the means of your own destruction. She knew you could be won over by Elizabeth, a woman of wily skill and intelligence.’
‘That is true enough. I never claimed to be well versed in my learning,’ the older man said.
‘So, if this letter is shown to be a forgery, if the seal is rediscovered out here, that would spell danger for you and your family, Sir Henry,’ Blount said.
‘I shall have to take it and admit my crime, you mean?’ Lady Anne said. She hid her face in her father’s lap.
‘No, child, you must not,’ her father said gently. ‘That would lead to your ruin, and I could not bear that.’
‘There could be another way,’ Blount said. He was pensive, and shot a glance over his shoulder at Will. Will, I saw, understood as much as me. His fac
e held the same bafflement as was reflected in mine.
‘There could?’ Sir Henry said, and there was a quickening hope in his tone. His daughter turned to stare at Blount, too.
‘We cannot allow Lady Elizabeth to suffer for what was a foolish act, not one that was intended to be malicious, but which will nonetheless cause great suffering to her and possibly to her servants. However, if it were to look as though someone else had concocted the whole story, we might be able to rescue something.’
‘Put the blame on to another?’ Sir Henry said with a slight frown.
‘One who cannot be harmed by the revelation,’ Blount said. ‘Someone who was known to bear a seal about her throat: Lady Margery.’
‘Her!’ Sir Henry sank back in his seat.
‘She cannot be hurt by the revelation, and it will mean that the entire issue is already solved to the satisfaction of all,’ Blount said. ‘Where is this letter now?’
‘I believe that the Coroner has it,’ Sir Henry said.
‘All to the good. We shall win it back from him. If he wishes to know why, we can explain that it must harm the interest of his ally, Sir Walter Throcklehampton. He will not wish to see Sir Walter harmed by association with his wife.’
‘I suppose so,’ Sir Henry said, but he said it reluctantly.
Blount nodded. Then he looked over at Will. ‘You stay here with Sir Henry. Jack, you come with me.’
‘Me?’
But my present injuries were apparently no hindrance to my winning still more.
We left the hall by a door that led along a passageway and thence to a door that gave on to a stone staircase in the open air in the inner courtyard.
I hadn’t been here before and I looked about me with interest. Many of the buildings out here were plainly newer than those in the front of the palace. It made me realize how large the place was, looking about me now. The facades rose to the sky, their chimneys as tall as great pines. When it was new, it must have been an impressive home.
There was not much time to appreciate the place. Blount led me in through a doorway and through a number of chambers and passageways until we emerged into the sunshine once more at the side of the chapel. He looked about him, grunted with satisfaction, and drew me towards a door in the side. We entered and I found myself in a square, but tall nave. It was full of religious displays, and reeked of incense. A priest stood near the altar, and Blount hurried along the nave.
The man turned as we approached, and I was surprised to see that it was Harvey. No wonder he had reminded me of a St Paul’s canon, I thought, as he nodded to Blount.
The two spoke quickly.
‘Where is she?’
‘The Princess has been permitted to return to her chamber,’ Harvey said. ‘I went to tell her. She has her ladies-in-waiting with her, but only one manservant. The others were injured.’
‘Could we find another one or two to guard her? I don’t like to think that she could be in danger,’ Blount said.
‘It would be too difficult. Who could we install in there?’
‘We have more men,’ Blount said.
Harvey pulled a grimace. ‘If you say so.’
‘At least they are hardy fellows. Not the sort who would show any feebleness or lack of courage.’
‘True enough.’
‘What of the Princess? Is she bearing her tribulations?’
‘Well enough. But she was unimpressed by the assault on her and her rooms. They were badly broken apart, I hear.’
‘Then the Coroner must be made to realize that he will have to pay for all the damage personally,’ Blount said grimly. ‘But for now we have other matters to resolve. The letter that the Coroner has must be liberated. Do you know where he keeps it?’
‘He gave it to Sir Walter, I think. He probably still has it on his person.’
Harvey nodded. ‘Would he keep it on him or place it somewhere safe?’
Blount grinned and shook his head.
‘What,’ I said, slowly and distinctly, ‘are you talking about?’
‘Sir Walter is not a trusting fellow. Men of his character think everybody else thinks and behaves as they do. From what I’ve heard, he was not married to his wife long before he began to fondle each of the maidservants at his own home. His wife and he did not marry for love, of course, but even so his behaviour was distinctly demeaning to a woman of Lady Margery’s birth. He is lucky that she does not have a father or brother to defend her.’
‘She would have killed him, if she had divined his actions,’ Harvey said, chortling.
‘Be that as it may,’ Blount said, ‘I have no doubt that he would think others would behave as he would. He needs money, now that his wife is dead. And he may have the seal and the letter. The letter he will keep concealed. A wise man would hide the seal securely too.’
‘But Lady Anne just told us she threw the seal away,’ I protested.
‘Yes, and she was brave to do that. She was trying to protect someone, no doubt. Perhaps she knows who is guilty, or thinks she does, and confessed for that reason.’
‘You don’t believe her?’
He looked at me. ‘Does she strike you as a robust, bold, adventurous maid? She’s a young countrywoman, Jack.’
I could not easily tell him how I first met her when she was clobbering One-Eye over the head.
‘So, Jack, we must find this letter as soon as we may. I think here we need your surreptitious skills.’
I shrugged. I was more than a little bemused by the turn of events. It seemed to me that there was nothing this palace could throw at me that I could anticipate beforehand and prepare for. What was one little case of breaking and entering?
‘Very well,’ I said.
Fortunately, the knight had gone to the hall with the Coroner, so there was plenty of time to ransack his room. First, I asked Sal where the man’s room actually was, since neither Blount nor Harvey seemed to have any idea.
My plan was easy enough. I would march into the man’s room and search through his belongings, and hopefully find the paper. It seemed a straightforward idea. So once Sal had told me where to go, I sidled my way past guards and grumpy-looking servants in the screens, trying to look unimportant and insignificant, until I reached the inner passageway to the knight’s room. It was dimly lit and gloomy, with big splodges on the walls where the damp was entering, and a drip was assiduously making a puddle in the middle of the floor. In only a million years or so, there would be enough water to fill a bucket, but the drip wasn’t letting that get to it. I hurried along, splashing in the puddle, and felt guilty. After all, that was thousands of drips that I had just consigned to splattering the walls and my hosen.
The door loomed. I didn’t stop to think, but glanced up and down the corridor, slipped the latch and entered, closing the door behind me gently. I conducted a simple search of the room. There was a large chest in one corner, a smaller one beside it, and a table with papers looked hopeful too. I went to that first, thinking that I might find something useful, but the papers were only leases or tenancy agreements, and most did not even have a seal to validate them, so I shoved them to one side.
When I studied the larger of the two chests, I discovered that it had a simple enough lock. I soon had that unfastened, and threw open the lid. I should have guessed: it was not the knight’s, but his dead wife’s. I closed the lid after a brief rifle through, but there was nothing of interest (or value), so I turned my attention to the smaller chest. This was only about two feet by three and two deep. I had a quick look and was about to close that lid too, when I saw something in the corner. Half concealed by some linen was a small purse of soft leather. I drew it out, and was surprised to feel something inside; not coins, but similar. I untied the strings and pulled the neck open, and found myself looking at a ring with a circular stone set into a clasp, and there was an image engraved deeply into it: a seal. It looked quite masculine for all its size. I stood there considering, and while I did so, I had a sudden insight. It was
not so much a flash of inspiration as a series of knucklebones that happened to fall into a logical sequence. For so long I had been thinking about the death of Lady Margery without thinking about why she was dead, nor why Lady Elizabeth had been robbed of her seal, and so much else.
For a good minute I stood there, eyebrows raised, as if the mere exercise of cogitation would drive all these links from my mind, let alone any movement of my hands or fingers. And then there was a rattle and click, and I heard an intake of breath, then the sound of a bolt being driven home.
Sir Walter walked to his bed and rested one booted foot on it. ‘So, Master Blackjack, perhaps you are ready to explain to me what you are doing here in my room without my permission?’ he said calmly.
I am not sure that I have ever racked my brains more swiftly.
‘Sir Walter, what do you have to say about this?’ I asked, turning and holding out the seal.
‘It was my wife’s. What of it?’
‘It was on her necklace, was it not?’ I asked loftily, like a pleader in court.
‘She was wont to carry it about with her. It was a memento of her father. He was a Neville from the Northern March. Those Scottish borders have been the ruin of many a good nobleman, but her father kept the peace for a long while.’
‘But it disappeared from her throat after she was killed.’
‘No.’
I was flummoxed by that. ‘Eh?’
‘She lost it two days before she died. I know, because I took it.’
‘Two days?’
‘Do you always repeat everything said to you? Yes, I took it. She refused to let me have it, so in the end I snatched it from her. I suspect that is where she won the mark on her throat.’
‘Why didn’t she just wear it on her finger?’ I wondered.
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