The needle was in her hand when she paused, hand hovering over the cloth. ‘True. And why has he not spilt what he knows about you and Gonzalo?’

  ‘Aye, that has been troubling me. To keep me quiet? But I haven’t been. And if to wait for a better time, just what would be a better time? I feel that I have missed something important through all this rumination. I mean, Lady Jane’s threatening you and me …’

  ‘She’s now dead. But what of Kendrick? He’s still dangerous.’

  ‘Aye, that he is. I set Cromwell after him. Told him that if this priest is after me, he might kill the king by mistake. You can be sure Cromwell and the king’s men are after that doleful priest.’

  ‘Let us hope so.’

  I rose and walked to her, looking over her shoulder at her exquisite embroidery work of flowers and conjoined letters. An H and an A. She flicked a glance up at me and then away, back to her work. We both knew who this was for. ‘And, er, how are you feeling?’

  She took a deep breath and sighed it out. ‘I’m not with child, as it happens.’

  The stab of disappointment was deep and … unexpected. ‘Oh?’ I said neutrally.

  ‘My monthly arrived. I am not with child.’ Her eyes welled and I dropped to my knee beside her.

  ‘Sweet Marion. We will wed someday, and then you will have my child. My silly-faced and possibly crook-back child. I … I crave it now.’

  She reached blindly for my hand, found it, and squeezed. ‘I love you.’

  ‘I love you, too.’ I pulled her to her feet and embraced her, let her sniffle on my shoulder, mourning a child that had never bloomed within her. ‘It’s foolish, I know,’ I whispered to her hair under its veil, ‘but I desire a daughter. Is that strange?’

  ‘Not for you,’ she said with a giddy laugh. ‘It would be just like you to go against all convention.’

  ‘But I love women.’ I held her, for her fingers gripped at my doublet and would not let up. Babes. Such needful creatures. Who knew that such would be the end of queens, and fortunes would depend upon it? That Henry was so enamored of the idea of a male heir that he would upturn his own marriage, stand against popes and the Holy Roman Emperor, against kings … and even perhaps God Himself?

  And yet ours – Marion’s and mine – had been a mere ghost of our own imaginations.

  Then again … I thought of Lord Heyward and how we were still under a cloud. For if there was no pregnancy, there could be no leveraging a wedding.

  What folly. What wretched folly.

  I surprised myself by wiping at a tear in my eye and pushed her back, giving her cheek a kiss. I had wanted that babe. ‘Yes, I want a girl. I want what the king has and does not want. And … in that vein … well, I went to see the queen and the Princess Mary today.’

  She jerked back and glared at me. ‘Will! That was very foolish of you.’

  ‘I’m a foolish man. But the opportunity presented itself.’

  ‘Oh, Will! Do you have a desire for death?’

  ‘I was not thinking of death. I was thinking how I missed Her Majesty and the princess.’

  Her glare softened and became something more tender. ‘Oh.’

  ‘They were my family, Marion,’ I said softly. ‘I was far from home when I first came to court. And not like to see my father again. And everyone here was strange and queer. This royal family were my comfort as much as I tried to make merry for them. Families should not change but for death. This is all unnatural.’

  ‘I know.’ She held me and now I breathed on her shoulder.

  ‘It was good to see them. But sorrowful, too.’

  ‘Do you think the king will ever relent?’

  ‘No, my dear. That is the one thing he hates to do; admit he was wrong. And anyway, now he is bewitched by Nan Bullen. He wants her.’ I glanced at the door to make certain it was properly closed, and then I flicked a glance at her embroidery with its intertwined H and A. My lips were at her ear. ‘But he doesn’t wait in celibacy. It seems he still seeks his solace with other women. And I was told by some of Nan’s ladies that lately he had chosen … Lady Ursula.’

  ‘What?’ she cried, all hushed and husky. ‘Gonzalo’s lover?’

  ‘It is true. So why was she lamenting her lost love when her sights reached much higher? She was with Henry when she lied and told me she was with Gonzalo.’

  ‘When Gonzalo was with you.’

  ‘Aye. I have not seen her look particularly smug. If she were in Henry’s bed, I’ll wager it was once only. She does have a sour look about her. I thought it was sadness over Gonzalo, but now I think … I think it might be discontent.’

  Marion smoothed out her kirtle absently. ‘There is one thing I know about some of the ladies of court, and that is that they are flowers in secret gardens that welcome many bees.’

  I shook my head and went to the fire. I picked up the iron and jabbed at the glowing wood in the grate. ‘There is gossip aplenty at court, this I know. But I wondered how much of it was true. Apparently, most of it is.’

  ‘Will, there is one way to see if I was the target or if Lady Jane was. I must go about court unescorted.’

  ‘And be a target?’

  ‘Yes. It’s the only way.’

  ‘Your father won’t like it. I don’t like it.’

  ‘But you’ll be nearby.

  ‘That won’t help if it’s another crossbow bolt.’

  ‘What else can we do? We must be sure, mustn’t we?’

  I joined her at her embroidery frame again and pressed my hands to her shoulders and then slid my arms around her, my cheek resting against her head and French hood. ‘Maybe, if I cannot find Kendrick, I should find out about Lady Jane. That might be better than you parading about court with a target painted on your belly.’

  ‘I’ll allow you to go on this course for a brief while, but then I must try my scheme. I can’t live in this uncertainty.’

  ‘Aye, my love. I agree. You are my brave Marion, aren’t you.’ I kissed her temple, but she reached up for a better kiss and I did indulge her. ‘Will you watch Nosewise for me?’ I asked.

  ‘Of course.’ How that pup loved Marion.

  I left the two of them together, and off I went in search of some answers about Lady Jane.

  Lady Nan was pleased to see me in her company. She must have taken this as a sign she was becoming more welcomed to court as the king’s future wife. Well, that couldn’t be helped. I looked around for the gossiping ladies and I noticed Ursula was not in attendance. Mayhap I should talk to her. Skirt around Henry’s bed, of course, but see what she would talk about.

  Off I went to what I believed was her lodgings. Aye, they were down this corridor. Of course, all these courtiers had their own houses and estates sometimes quite far from court, but here it was they had to live, or not too far away up the Thames in London. They had their Bouche of Court, what Henry would pay them to live with him – lodgings, board, even a candle, ale, and wine allowance. Their clothing was the thing that cost a pretty penny, for you could not be seen in company of the king unless your clothing was nearly as fine as his was. Though not as fine. And never finer. There were sumptuary laws to consider. Only certain nobles were allowed to wear certain furs and certain colors. And the king wore the best of all.

  Though the king provided for my cloth, it didn’t need to be fine and jewel-encrusted at all. In fact, that would not have been allowed, due to my rank. I liked my woolen doublet and hose, my plain coats, for they were comfortable and more suited to all the capering and tumbling I was required to do. And I had cut off all the bells now, so I could come up unawares to my victims and surprise them with a jest, a jeer, or a jaunty song. Henry hadn’t noticed or didn’t deign to remark on it. Most times, I didn’t even wear my fool’s hood. I often tumbled about without my coat, only in doublet and hose. Perhaps I’d start a fashion.

  I came at last to Lady Ursula’s chamber. There was a guard, but he knew me well and allowed me in. ‘But,’ he said, ‘she is with her confessor. Have a care.’

  Her confessor, eh? She’d be needing him.

  I passed through the antechamber with its furniture and furnishings, tapestries and fine coffers, but as I passed through to her withdrawing room, I could hear noises of an unusual kind. She was moaning. Good Christ, was her priest whipping her for her sins? But all at once, I realized what a fool I truly was. For that was not the sound of punishment, not as I had come to know it.

  I smiled. So someone disguised as her priest was in there with her, for now I could hear a man’s sounds of moaning. What brazen fellow should go to her chamber when she should have been attending Lady Nan, and in the mid of the day! What saucy creature was this?

  There was no chaperone, no matron to guard the virtue of this ‘maid’-in-waiting. I crept closer to the door. I needed only open it a crack to see who it was, unless the swines had closed the bed-curtains. I grasped the door handle and gently, softly, pulled it just the merest of cracks so that I could set my eye to it.

  I clamped the sound of my gasp behind my hand. For there was no mistaking what Lady Ursula was up to with her skirts gathered up around her waist and her naked legs wrapped around her lover.

  And that lover!

  The blushing, bleating face of Father Kendrick! Going at it with the fervor he should have reserved for his religion.

  NINETEEN

  I carefully closed the door and further tiptoed through her rooms and out.

  ‘Was she still in confession?’ asked the guard.

  ‘She and her priest were, er … devout in their attention,’ was all I could say. I moved away from her lodgings’ door, but then I thought, Aha! I can confront Kendrick. All I need do is await his coming out.

  Faith! I wish I could wash my eyes to get the sight of that from my mind. Priests were supposed to be celibate. It was one of their vows. Of course, the vow of poverty was seldom kept. Our Wolsey had his great houses and jewelry. And there was many a priest who secretly had a wife. Religion was like a big meal: it was lovely to look at, and you felt yourself happy to be seated before it, but more often than not, it was never filling enough.

  I waited in my darkened corner, and with that flash of Ursula’s shapely leg, I could only think of Marion. She was an enthusiastic lover, and it did make me wonder why she hadn’t got with child before now. I knew that women had their remedies for such things. They always whispered about it. But maybe … no. I mustn’t think of such. That she was barren would be a forbidding jest to play upon so good a woman. God would not be so cruel. For if there was anyone who loved me as she does, I knew I should never meet them. And the fact that she wanted whatever misshapen child I could produce said more about her character than any angel from on high could shout in exultation. I was a lucky man. Of a sort. If her father would never agree to our marriage then … Faith. What would we do?

  And then – strange man that I am – I thought of Gonzalo, and his handsome face, and his vigorous lovemaking. And Rodrigo’s eagerness in the sheets. And Edward’s, who was always available for a tumble. But I didn’t love them as I loved Marion. My sin was as crooked as my back, and such I would take to Purgatory, for I have never spoken of it to a priest in the confessional, which is, in itself, a sin. And I take the bread of Christ, wondering sometimes what it is all for. Should one such as me reach the gates of Heaven? A lad of Shropshire who liked his bedding often and with a variety of partners? In the end, I must let the Almighty sort it out.

  I heard the great clock in the courtyard chime the hour, the half-hour, and wondered with some amount of envy if that scoundrel Kendrick had the stamina of a bull … or was he merely lingering. Or asleep. And then I wondered if this was the only way out. Surely a man who knew he would be caught would not stroll through the corridors.

  I scrambled down the hallway and shot through the doors to the courtyard, counting windows. But would he come this very public way either? So I ran out of the front gate and around the building. And here was where I didn’t need to count windows, for there appeared a man climbing over a garden wall to the surrounding landscape, and he wore a long gown like a cleric, and I could clearly see his white legs as he hoist that gown to do his climbing.

  He was disappearing into the park around Greenwich and I put heel to ground, chasing after and over the wall.

  He knew nothing of stealth, for I could well hear him stumbling through the brambles and breaking every twig there was. When I leapt, my hands seized arms and I dragged him to the ground in a heap. He cursed some of the vilest oaths I had ever heard from layman or priest, and especially when he discovered who it was that had entrapped him.

  ‘Will Somers, you cursed crooked little troll! You whoreson! You cock lorel! You cross-biter!’

  ‘Tut, tut, Kendrick. If I were you, I’d lessen my sins, not compound them. Now shut it.’ And I slammed my hand over his vile mouth. I sat upon him with his hands stuck beneath his weight and mine. ‘We have some talking to do. For I saw you kill Lady Jane.’

  He had been fighting me, but now he stilled, his eyes round like a gold crown piece.

  ‘I’ll take my hand away because I want answers. You will behave now, my lad, eh?’

  He gave a shallow nod.

  I lifted my hand away from his mouth and pulled his dagger from its sheath. He watched me with narrowing eyes. ‘Now. There are things I need to know. Why did you kill Don Gonzalo de Yscar?’

  I watched his face carefully, especially his eyes, which speared right through me. Oh, there was evil there … but also … confusion. ‘You’re a fantasist, Somers. I did no such thing.’

  ‘Come now, Kendrick. You can only hang once. Best to confess it all.’

  ‘I tell you I did not kill that Spaniard!’

  ‘And why should I believe you?’

  ‘Because … I had no reason to kill him.’

  ‘Oh, but you would have? Had you had a reason?’

  He breathed out slowly. ‘If it was needful.’

  Such cold words from such a cold man. ‘But you are half Spanish.’

  ‘And so?’

  ‘You don’t deny it?’

  ‘You seem to know the truth of it. My mother.’

  ‘And you spied for Spain?’

  He turned his face away and would not answer.

  ‘Were you the one sending me a blackmail missive?’

  He jerked his head back to look at me, brows raised. ‘Blackmail? Believe me, Somers, if I had some information worth getting coin from you, I’d trumpet it loud and often at court.’

  ‘That was before they didn’t have you for murder, of course.’

  His wild face stilled. He seemed to remember again who had whom.

  He spoke more soberly, quietly. ‘I sent you no missives.’

  ‘So why did you kill Lady Jane? What had you against her?’

  ‘Nothing. I had nothing against her.’

  ‘Then was it … Marion?’

  Kendrick drew back, perplexed. ‘Who is Marion?’

  ‘Marion Greene, the daughter of Lord Heyward.’

  ‘I don’t know who that is and I little care to know.’

  ‘Then by all the saints in Heaven, Kendrick. Why?’

  He turned his face away from me. ‘I will say no more. I have decided already to leave this place.’ A tear came to his eye.

  ‘Do you miss court so much? Or is it … a certain lady you will miss?’

  He jerked his head toward me. And with that, he lurched so mightily that he dislodged me and I tumbled back. By the time I righted myself, the miscreant was long gone into the trees.

  ‘Cuds-me!’ Would the king’s men find him? Not before Cromwell’s men found him. He was not long for this world.

  I tossed his dagger away into the underbrush. His answers were singularly unsatisfying. If he could be believed, then he didn’t murder Gonzalo and he was not my blackmailer. But if not him, then who? Lady Jane? If so, I’d never now know. This was a complicated puzzle far beyond my means.

  I stalked back around the walls and entered through the gate again, the guards barely giving me a twitch of a whisker. What to tell Marion? What to do about these murders? Why did he murder Lady Jane? Was it because she knew about him and Ursula? ‘Now there’s an idea,’ I muttered. If she had threatened to expose them, then that was a pretty bit of gossip staunched. Maybe Henry wouldn’t like the idea that he had a priest’s leavings. He certainly wouldn’t like the idea of a priest bedding anyone at all, including one of Lady Nan’s ladies. Very much including. And dear me. I wonder if Lady Ursula – if it came to Henry’s attention – would be imperiled. It wouldn’t do for jealous Lady Nan to get wind of one of her own ladies romping about in Henry’s bed. Wretch. He had only himself to blame. You don’t dip your quill into the same inkpot where all the other ink – damn, that metaphor was getting nowhere; as nowhere as I was getting with this.

  How were other such murders solved in the realm? Did the miscreants give themselves up? They’d have to. I was beginning to despair that Gonzalo would never get his justice.

  But by St George I would find his killer. And when I did, I’d write to Rodrigo. I was certain he’d want to know.

  What to do now? It was best that I see to Henry, see if he needed me, and as soon as I might, I’d return to Lady Nan’s ladies, see if Ursula had returned to her presence. I wondered what excuse she’d come up with. And also I needed to see what Lady Parker and Lady Bess had to say on the matter. For I would wager they didn’t know about this priest who made his way freely through the bedchambers of court.

  I found Henry in his inner privy chamber, meeting with his privy council. And what faces they wore! By the mass, each time they met with the king – and, of course, Cromwell, telling them the state of things – they all seemed to grow morose at the news, long-faced, like mules. It was about the Great Matter, certainly. Naught could make their faces as sour.

  The king sent me a look that told me straightaway that I wasn’t wanted. I gamboled around the table before I left. Good. I’d rather spend my time in Lady Nan’s company … and how times had changed on that score! Now I was a frequent guest to her cabal of ladies, though she mistook the reason why. Yet, if Henry was to have his way – and I couldn’t imagine he wouldn’t – I suppose I’d best be in Lady Nan’s good graces.