The Tudor Conspiracy - Gortner Christopher W. - Страница 17
- Предыдущая
- 17/65
- Следующая
“Enough,” she declared. “You told him to wait behind the postern door for our privacy, remember? How could he have kept watch?”
“He’s a miserable whoreson,” snarled Courtenay. He stabbed his hand at the henchman. “Get back to the hall and find him. If he overheard enough to tell Renard or, God forbid, the queen, we won’t need Philip of Spain to come and burn us. Mary will do it for him.” Courtenay’s voice twisted, his lips drawn back to show his teeth. “I’ll take Her Grace back to her chambers. You do what I pay you for and get rid of that mongrel-come-out-of-nowhere before he ruins everything!”
My breath shattered in my throat as I heard Elizabeth start to protest again; then her voice faded as Courtenay steered her away. In the silence that fell at their departure, I discerned footfalls starting toward me. I shouldn’t have chosen the first place I saw to hide. The hall lay in my direction. The earl’s man was going to walk right past me.
I eased my poniard from my boot, keeping it pointed inward so the blade wouldn’t catch a stray reflection from the meager light. I had no illusions. He was big enough to smash me to splinters, even if I somehow managed to evade his dagger. Nevertheless, I was going to give it my best. Maybe if I put up enough of a fight and shouted loud enough, he’d not have time to kill me. The earl wouldn’t want his man embroiled in a public murder at court.
My skin crawled as his shadow loomed, inches from where I crouched. He wasn’t quite as large as he’d first seemed, though more than enough to make me wish I had my sword. I couldn’t see anything of his face save for a misshapen nose peeking from his cowl. Time stopped. My heart thudded like an anvil. He paused, so close I might have reached out and touched his cloak. His head swiveled slowly toward me. My hand closed on the hilt of my poniard as I prepared to raise it and strike-
He moved on.
I held my breath, my body tense, braced for a lethal spring. I couldn’t believe it. How had he not seen me? It wasn’t that dark. Was he night-blind? I didn’t move, listening to his footsteps fade away. Maybe he thought to stalk his prey by pretending to let it go. The moment I slipped out, he’d charge me like a bull, seize me from behind to throttle me … but as the minutes passed with agonizing slowness, nothing happened. I heard only the cresset flame sizzling in its sconce, the clamor of music and laughter drifting from the hall.
Finally I dared to look. The gallery stretched into darkness.
Empty.
I slipped from the window seat. Sheathing my poniard, I hurried to my room.
Peregrine was waiting for me, Urian on the bed. The tallow was lit. As I entered, Urian growled. When he recognized me, he thumped his tail.
“Good dog.” I reached down to pet him. Only now that I was in my room did the impact of what I’d just been through hit me, tying such knots in my stomach that I felt I might be sick.
“Did you find the earl?” asked Peregrine. His eyes widened. “You look awful.”
“Yes, well, it hasn’t been an easy night.” I started to unclasp my belt. “I found him, but then I nearly fell afoul of his henchman.”
“Henchman?”
“Yes. It seems that man watching me in the hall is a beast the earl hired as a bodyguard.” I yanked off my doublet, raking a hand through my damp hair. Despite the cold, I was sweating, and, as usual, I had lost my cap somewhere. Peregrine was quiet, taking my doublet and folding it.
“I don’t know what the hell is going on here. I saw Her Grace give Courtenay something, and judging by the way they spoke, the things he said-whatever is happening, he’s knee-deep in it, and it’s more dangerous than any of us thought.” I paced to the coffer. “Maybe I should send you back.”
“Back?” Peregrine gaped in dismay. “Back where? To Hatfield?”
“After what happened tonight, it would be safest. I won’t put you in harm’s way, and now it seems I am a target. Renard suspects me, and Courtenay wants me dead. The only saving grace in all this is that neither of them is likely to tell the other anything.”
“Then let me help you!” He took an imploring step to me. “I know this palace like the back of my hand. I can find out things you need to know. You can’t do it all, not if it’s as dangerous as you say, and I…” His voice drifted off as he took in my expression. His mouth set in a stubborn line. “No.”
I eyed him. “If I tell you to go, you will.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll strap you to your horse and send you back with an escort.”
“To Hatfield?” He scoffed. “I don’t think so, not unless you want them to know that’s where you came from. Besides, I can’t go back. I … I promised Kate.”
My heart sank. “You promised her?”
“Yes. It was the only reason she let me accompany you. I told her I’d keep watch over you. But I can’t do it, can I, if you won’t let me?”
“You can’t do it anyway. She should never have asked it of you.”
“She didn’t. I offered.” He dragged his foot back and forth on the floor. “I heard her talking to Mistress Ashley one night. She sounded so worried. She said danger follows Elizabeth like a curse, but the princess in turn curses everyone who serves her with the need to save her. And you’ve got it worst of all, she said. You’ll do anything to protect her.”
“Kate said all that to you?”
“Not to me. She didn’t know I was there. I was hiding in the pantry. Besides, what does it matter? She’s right, isn’t she? You love the princess more than anyone.”
Urian whined from the bed, sensing the tension between us. I went to Peregrine and set my hand on his shoulder. He went still. “Peregrine, look at me.” When he didn’t, I cupped his chin. Tears brimmed in his eyes. “It’s not true,” I said. “Yes, I love Her Grace and I am sworn to serve her, but it’s not the kind of love I bear for Kate or for you. You are my family.” I resisted the guilt of my own deceit. I couldn’t explain to him that my service to the princess was bound by more than a pledge; that we shared the same blood, though she didn’t know it. Elizabeth was my kin.
“You … you see me as family?” he whispered.
“Like a brother.” I ruffled his hair. “Now wipe your nose. Not with your sleeve. That’s a new jerkin, remember?” He searched his bag and came up with a nose-cloth; I sat on the bed and scratched Urian’s head as Peregrine dabbed his face.
“I slipped her that note, telling her we should meet tomorrow at the stables,” I said, “but I had a sense tonight that she knew I was there. Hopefully she can tell me exactly what Courtenay is concocting.”
“What if she doesn’t?” said Peregrine. “She hasn’t exactly made it easy thus far, has she? I mean, she didn’t ask for anyone’s help though she’s been in danger.”
I went quiet. He was right. Elizabeth had told Courtenay that she dwelled on the edge of an abyss, but none of us who cared for her-not I or Kate, Mistress Ashley or Cecil-had received a single request for help from her. I knew she was proud, and overly secretive, but now I also knew that Robert Dudley played a role here, and I did not trust Robert Dudley with anything.
Could Elizabeth be protecting the very man who could be her downfall?
“If she doesn’t tell you the truth,” Peregrine said, “I can get you Courtenay instead.”
“What did you just say?”
His words tumbled out in haste. “After the princess left the stables this morning, my friend Toby-that stable boy who told me she goes riding with Courtenay, remember? — he said Courtenay pays him extra for one of the palace horses to be kept at his disposal at night. I could find out why. I mean, most noblemen don’t take out anonymous horses for rides in the dead of night, do they?”
“No, they don’t,” I said. “This Toby is a veritable well of information. I suppose he knows how Courtenay likes his shirts hemmed, too?”
Peregrine gave me an exasperated look. “Did you think stable help survives on the mere pittance they’re paid, if they get paid? Most of the lads take on additional work whenever they get the chance. I did it myself. Those extra coins can make the difference between a meal and scrounging in the ditches with the beggars.”
- Предыдущая
- 17/65
- Следующая
