Court of Conspiracy (11 page)

He bowed. “Good morrow, Sir Nigel. I am here to deliver a pomander to Mistress Paige, one of the sewing women. I believe she is mending hangings in here.”

“Why you and not a court apothecary? And who gave you leave to enter the palace at will?”

“As for your second question, sir, I did a service to the late Duke of Suffolk in the matter of his second son. King Henry VIII of blessed memory gave me free access to the palace as a mark of his favor and gratitude. In answer to your first, I have known Mistress Paige for some years. She came to me yesterday suffering from a headache. I suggested that she should get more fresh air and offered to bring her this.”

At the mention of Henry VIII, Nigel Kerr’s face paled and he swallowed. It was as much as Luke could do not to laugh at the man’s expression.

“Very well, let us find her. Follow me.”

Luke cursed under his breath, but had no option other than to do as he was bidden. The Watching Chamber was also full, the pages preparing tables for the high courtiers to eat their main meal. Luke saw Gwenette almost at once, but could not give her prior warning. She looked up to find Sir Nigel standing over her. She sprang to her feet before sinking into a deep curtsey, head bowed.

“How now, Mistress. The apothecary tells me you asked him for treatment.”

Gwenette did not raise her eyes. “Indeed, my lord. The close work gives me a headache.”

“Why did you not ask a court apothecary?”

“My lord, I would not be so forward.”

“That is very humble and proper of you, Mistress, but you attend the court and are permitted to ask court officials, including the apothecaries, for things you need. There is no call to go to a pigeon-livered rascal who will overcharge you.”

Luke concentrated on keeping his hands by his side, his demeanor submissive, although he longed to smash his fists into that mocking, supercilious face. It was men like this smooth courtier who climbed to lofty heights on the backs of whoever came between them and their ambition. They could condemn a man unheard and, the following week, have forgotten the life snuffed out as if it had been no more important than a beetle.

Luke felt the warning touch of Joss’s nose nuzzling his palm. She knew him better than he knew himself, and he realized that his current worries were allowing his emotions to gain the upper hand. With a conscious effort he forced his muscles to relax. He could see that Gwenette was also torn between compliance and a sharp retort. Compliance won.

“You honor me with your concern, my lord. However, as the fault was mine, it would be churlish to send Master Ballard away when he has many calls on his time and has gone to the nuisance of making the pomander. I will bear in mind what you say should I need aid again.”

Sir Nigel turned to Luke.

“You have leave to give Mistress Paige the pomander, but do not come here without good cause and do not think that this is an opportunity to increase your business.”

Luke bowed, gave the pomander to Gwenette, and then turned and walked away. He knew that sooner or later, probably sooner, he would have another visit from her, but hoped that she took heed and did not come to the shop openly. Was the pounding in his head because of the behavior of the boorish Sir Nigel or from the stuffy atmosphere mixed with the smell of food? No wonder Gwenette felt ill. He ran down the stairs to the courtyard. The sight outside the Gatehouse made him forget Sir Nigel Kerr and Gwenette Paige both.

Luke pressed himself to the wall. It was the first time he had seen the Lady Mary at close quarters. Of small stature but richly dressed in fine velvets and bedecked with jewels, she glittered like the sun coming through the huge stained glass window in Hampton church. She must know that the King frowned upon such opulent display. Luke’s opinion was she did it solely to annoy her half brother. The retinue following her looked endless, so he turned back to make his way out of the palace by the Counting House gate.

A few minutes later, he entered his house to find a white-faced, frightened Pippa huddled over the kitchen table.

“What ails you?”

She lifted a tear-stained face to his. “I’ve just seen the Lady Mary and her train arriving. I can’t stay here now. I’ll have to leave.”

Luke shook her by the shoulder. “You’re going nowhere until you explain.”

She twisted her hands in the skirt of her gown. “I got a good position by the outer gates just as they started to come through.”

“Stop. Just tell me what has made you curl up like a mewling kitten.”

“I’m trying to tell you. It’s the visit of the Lady Mary. I saw her ladies in waiting, and one of them is Cecily Messingham.”

“Your cousin?”

“Aye. If she discovers I am here, I am lost.”

Chapter Thirteen

Luke sat on the other side of the table. “Was there talk of her being in the Lady Mary’s service before you ran away?”

“Not in my hearing.”

“I don’t think it will really be a problem, Pippa. Cecily won’t expect to see you, especially dressed as you are now, and I doubt very much if she will leave the confines of the Lady Mary’s apartments, unless it is to attend her to the King.”

As far as Pippa knew that was true enough, and he had the Queen’s instruction to put a perception spell on her when she took messages to the Princess Elizabeth. Besides, there would be no need for the girl to walk through the public chambers. The Princess’s chambers were on the north side of the palace, and Pippa could access them via the Privy Orchard. She did not need to know that yet and certainly not in her current state of fright.

“Do you know how long Lady Mary is staying?” Pippa asked.

“No, but Mistress Paige may be able to find out for us.”

The girl sprang to her feet and began to pace the room. “Mistress Paige does not like me. She must not know about Cecily.”

“I think you worry without cause, girl, and Mistress Paige has given no indication that she dislikes you,” Luke said in a sharper tone than he had meant.

“Men are so blind. Can you not see that she has a fancy for you and fears lest I should get in her way?”

Luke’s mouth dropped open. He leaned both hands on the table and glared at her. “I think your eyes are greener than you know.”

“You cannot see what is in front of your face. I must make sure that I do not stir from the house until Cecily is gone. It is the only way.” She began to cry in earnest.

“That may not be possible,” he said.

“Why?” she hiccupped.

Luke sighed. “Sit down, Pippa—there are things you must know. Oh, stop caterwauling, girl. You have nothing to fear.”

Taking a few moments to gather himself, Luke gave her a verbatim account of the Queen’s visit and her commission. Pippa stared at him, her eyes growing wider with each utterance. When he had finished, she sat, digesting what he had said.

“One thing I am right about,” she said finally. “If the Queen knew about the gown, then the only person who could have told her is Mistress Paige. We need to be careful. She may be playing a double game.”

“Show me a woman who doesn’t. I am going into the shop,” Luke said. He needed the comfortable familiarity of his herbs and potions. He had bitten back the automatic denial that had sprung to his lips, because, when one looked at the situation with a clear mind, Gwenette was indeed the only person who could have informed Queen Anne about the gown.

Thinking about the Queen brought home to him the fact that he had gathered virtually no information about the investigation to take to Princess Elizabeth. He went through a mental inventory, checking off the ingredients for the perception spell. He must prepare a report because the Princess was due with her husband in the next few days. That thought brought the hand that was stirring the infusion to a sudden stop. With the forthcoming official visits, the palace was going to be very full, and accommodation would be at a premium. It would not be the first time the lowest servants had been forced to bed down in the apple store. Dolt that he was, why had he not thought about that before? True, Robin’s plight had given him very little time to plan. If he moved him from the apple store, where could he safely stow him? Tomorrow was Sunday and no visitors were expected for another few days. He could do nothing before Monday in any case, save take the lad more food.

His musings were interrupted by marching feet, and before Luke could draw breath, the Captain of the Guard, accompanied by two yeomen, tramped into the shop. One of the yeomen shut the door and stood in front of it as if he was expecting Luke to try and abscond.

“You are required, Master Ballard,” Creswell announced in a crisp voice.

Luke swallowed, but concentrated on keeping his gaze steadily on the captain’s face. “By whom, sir?”

“You don’t need to know. Come with us.”

“May I just bottle this infusion? The potency reduces when it is free to the air.”

“If you’re quick.”

Whilst his hands decanted the green liquid into a large glass vessel, Luke’s mind was concerned with the problem of keeping Joss at his side. It would be impossible to take her; indeed the soldiers might harm or even kill her if she tried to stay close to him. However, he needed her presence to calm him as much as for protection. It was only a few seconds before the solution presented itself.

He rubbed his fingers together over the small amount of liquid left in the bowl, hoping that the heat thus generated would do its job. Then he tipped the now hot liquid into a thin glass phial and almost threw it onto a shelf behind him. The glass exploded, hurling shards all over the floor. A sweet pungent fragrance magnified by the temperature of the contents flooded the shop. The Captain’s face relaxed and he burst into laughter.

“That was clumsy, Master Ballard. No need to rush that much. We have time.”

Luke nodded, but kept up the appearance of speed. He seized some of the glass shards, but in his hurry to clear up the mess, he knocked the jar next to the broken phial off the shelf. The jar fell to the floor behind the counter, and for a few seconds his hands were out of sight as he bent to pick it up. He flicked the stopper off with his thumb and tipped some of the oily liquid into his palm. Then he picked up the jar with his other hand and set it upright on the counter.

“I’ve lost the stopper,” he said. “I beg your forgiveness, sir.”

“Marry, there is nothing to forgive, Master Ballard. I will wait until you are ready.” The other yeomen joined in Creswell’s laughter.

Once more Luke bent down to pick up the cork stopper, but the hand with the liquid in it stroked Joss from her head, down her back to her tail, replenishing the shimmer spell he had put on her in the palace. Then he straightened up, replaced the stopper and put the jar back on the shelf.

“I’ll tidy that when I come back,” he said.

“Aye, you should be back soon. I think the Lord Steward only wants to question you about something that happened this morning.”

Luke nodded. He walked toward the door and the yeoman opened it. The usual summer smells of cooking food and dung swept in, eradicating the scent from the smashed phial. Creswell’s manner reverted to his customary impatient tone as they trooped toward the Counting House.

The escort marched Luke to a large paneled chamber. At the other side of a table sat not the Lord Steward, but Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk. Sir Nigel Kerr lounged against the window embrasure. Head bent, Luke watched Joss slip through the door behind him, but knew that for the next hour or so, until the oil dried, she would not be noticed by anyone else in the room. She was not invisible—it was just that she would be seen as a patch of light or a shadow, not as a dog. Once the oil dissipated, her true state would be apparent, but Luke hoped to be safely home by then.

He stood before the table and bowed to Norfolk, who ignored him, continuing to study some parchments. Luke waited with his hands in front of him, looking at the floor. Joss edged closer to him and he could feel the warmth of her against his leg. He looked down into her eyes. The message he saw there cleared his mind of everything except the need to concentrate on what his interrogator asked. He must make sure that his brain was free from all other considerations save ensuring that he answered only as much as was needed without embroidery. Finally Norfolk looked up.

“Why were you at the kitchens today?”

“I wanted to see John Corbet, my lord. He works there.”

“You almost disrupted the entire apparatus for the hall’s main meal.”

“I crave pardon, my lord. I had no such intention.”

“Why did you want to see Corbet?”

This was where Luke needed to phrase his answer with care so that it was true without putting John or his mother in danger. “I had just been speaking to his mother, my lord. She told what sounded like a wild tale about the death of Goodwife Pitt.”

“Pitt?”

“Aye, my lord, the traitor who was hanged two weeks ago.”

Norfolk turned to Sir Nigel. “Pitt?”

“Aye, my lord. The blackguard who put the thorns under the King’s saddle.”

Norfolk turned back to Luke. “And what was your business asking after this traitor’s mother?”

“She had been in great distress of mind, my lord. I thought she might need a calming infusion.”

“And where does the kitchen boy come into this?”

“His mother told me that Goodwife Pitt had died in the church, my lord. Her tale sounded strange and I thought her wits also must be in some disorder, so I wanted to ask John Corbet what had actually happened.”

“Why?”

“Because I felt sorry for the woman, my lord.”

“You felt sorry for the mother of a traitor?”

“His mother was not a traitor, and who of us can choose our families or what actions our relatives take?” Luke knew from Norfolk’s face that his last sentence had touched a nerve and wondered for one panic-stricken moment if he had gone too far. More than one of Norfolk’s relations had seen the inside of the Tower in the previous reign.

“But if you knew she was dead, why did you need to investigate further?”

Luke could feel Joss’s nose nudging his leg. He moderated his tone, trying to sound embarrassed. “Curiosity, my lord. There was talk that Goodwife Pitt had a strange expression on her face. I am as human as the next man. I thought mayhap she had had a holy vision before she was taken up.”

Norfolk sighed. “And how would you know if she had? Really, Master Ballard. The woman died from a seizure, doubtless brought on by the knowledge that she had spawned a traitor. That is all you need to know.”

Luke bowed. “As your lordship pleases.”

“And while we are on the subject, Sir Nigel tells me that you have leave to come and go within the palace.”

“That is so, my lord. It was given me by his late majesty.”

Norfolk stared at him but even he did not dare to question any action of Henry VIII. “Very well, but do not seek to take trade away from the court apothecaries. Sir Nigel has told me of your presumption with regard to one of the sewing women. Be warned.”

“I had no such intention, my lord. I have known Mistress Paige for some time and helped her before. I am familiar with her humor, so neither of us thought it improper when she asked for my help.”

“She has been spoken to. You may go.”

Luke bowed again and turned. As he opened the door and Joss slipped out, Norfolk’s voice stayed him.

“Just because His Majesty asked for your help with a minor injury, do not get ideas above your station, Master Apothecary. Unless you have business within the palace confines, keep out and do not let that long nose of yours butt into things that do not concern you.”

“Aye, my lord,” Luke bowed again and shut the door quietly behind him. He hurried back to the shop.

Pippa, looking very flustered, almost hugged him. “Thank God. I thought you were taken.”

“I could do with some wine. Do not fret. I am safe. Get on with your duties.”

As soon as Pippa had returned to the kitchen, Luke mopped sweat from his brow and, taking a cloth soaked in wine from his goblet, he dabbed the oil residue from Joss’s fur. No need to let the girl know everything. He swung round as the shop door opened behind him. Roland Dufay stood in the doorway.

“I understood you had been taken for questioning.”

“Aye,” Luke replied.

“For what?”

“For asking after a poor dead woman who had been in great distress of mind and who I was trying to help,” Luke said, his temper beginning to slip after the strain of Norfolk’s interrogation. He wondered, not for the first time, how bad news traveled like wildfire. Now that Norfolk was aware of him he must take great pains to be careful and the last thing he needed was for the head of his guild to begin hostile questioning. Luke kicked one of the support legs of the counter, out of sight of the Elemagus.

“No need to be like that, Master Ballard. I merely asked.”

“I know, sir, but I seem to be beset on all sides at the moment. Who told you?”

“These things get around. Now, to business. Have you done anything more about your housekeeper’s talent?”

“I have not had time.”

Dufay sprang to his feet. “In situations like this, time is of the essence—you know that. I think the girl had better come to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“She had better come to me for instruction.”

“Would it not be safer for me to conduct tests before you reveal yourself, Master Dufay?”

The man’s eyes flickered and something Luke could not read fluttered across them. “Aye, you are right. What is her element of affinity?”

“Water.”

“That is good. Tonight you must perform the initiation ceremony. If all goes well, send word tomorrow. But I repeat that it would be better if she came to me. You can get another housekeeper. If you have come to the attention of the Duke of Norfolk, it will be safer to have her out of your house.”

“Sir, why do you want Pippa to come and work for you?” The question he really longed to ask was what did Dufay know about Pippa that Luke did not.

Dufay looked round the shop, his eyes missing nothing. For the first time, Luke was aware that perhaps it did look a good deal more shabby than it ought, but then, the poor needed healing and medicine, not fine furniture and surroundings. Did Dufay know that Pippa came from a wealthy family? Was that it?

“For the reason I have given,” Dufay said. “It is better this way. Please do as I instruct. Implement the initiation tonight and send word tomorrow. I will make the necessary arrangements.”

“I must warn you, Master Dufay, that she has a sharp temper and an even sharper tongue. I have no issue with her becoming your housekeeper, but perhaps it should be something she is allowed to decide for herself.”

“Do you have a fancy for this girl?”

“No, sir, but I am mindful that if I did not warn you, I would be in error.”

“Very well. Talk to her.”

Dufay turned and marched out of the shop without a backward glance. Pippa came in so quickly after the Elemagus left that Luke was certain she had been listening.