The Tudor Vendetta (20 page)

“Forgive me, but I must request your indulgence. I seek only to establish the mood of your household upon Lady Parry’s departure.” This time, I did not care to soften my words. “I have the impression she left precipitously. Your steward told me she was determined to take to the road with the crippled tutor even after he warned her of the risks. Yet she went anyway, leaving behind a sick child, and by all accounts, your wife, as well. You are Lady Parry’s kinsman; why did you not detain her or at least ensure she had more suitable accompaniment? Had she waited only a few days more, the queen’s escort would have arrived.”

He avoided my gaze, causing me to sit upright on my saddle, intent on him. God’s teeth, he
knew
something. I was not fishing in murky waters.

“Lord Vaughan,” I said sternly, “if you have something to say, now would be the time. Her Majesty will not abide prevarication, and my own patience is starting to wear thin.”

His jaw worked, as if he were uncertain of how much to reveal. At length, he said, “My aunt and my wife disliked each other. Philippa can be difficult. She and Blanche did not agree on much.” His shoulders sagged. Without further hesitation, it came pouring out of him. “God save me, I tried to persuade my aunt to stay until we could make proper arrangements. But she and my wife had argued grievously over Henry’s care. It had reached a point where neither of them was willing to concede. Philippa had recovered by then; at first, it seemed that Henry was also on the mend, but then he took a turn for the worse and Blanche wanted us to send for a physician. She said he might die otherwise.” As he held back tears, his voice tightened. “She was right, of course, but Philippa wouldn’t hear of it. She told Blanche she knew best how to tend her son and ordered Blanche out of his room. My aunt told me she could not be party to Henry’s certain death and would go to York on her own, if need be, to bring back a physician.”

“Then, she wasn’t planning to return to London? She went with the tutor to York to fetch a physician.”

“Yes.” He lowered his face. “And I let her go, because Philippa was irate that I had dared allow my aunt to supplant her own charge and wouldn’t hear of me going as well. Master Godwin offered to accompany her; I reasoned he would provide sufficient protection. I didn’t truly want to leave my son, sick as he was, but I swear to you, I thought they’d return in a day or so!” He looked up at me, guilt carving furrows on his face. “I didn’t think this—this terrible nightmare would befall us.”

I let a few moments pass so he could compose himself. Once I felt he had, I said, “Tell me why your wife and Lady Parry disliked each other.”

“I have. I told you, they argued over Henry and—”

“No,” I interrupted. “Such enmity cannot happen overnight, that Lady Parry would ride off against all advice to the contrary. In times of crisis, women set pettiness aside, particularly when a child’s life is at stake. Something other than a disagreement over Henry must have caused this rift between them. What was it?”

He looked haggard now, twice his age. I had finally fit the key into the lock but I did not enjoy turning it. Then he whispered, “It was because of … her.”

My heart clenched in my chest. “Who?”

“Our new queen.” He paused. “Philippa despised Lady Parry’s devotion to her. Philippa and her family, you see, they are…”

“I know. You are all papists.”

He nodded. “Philippa’s father and brother participated in the Pilgrimage of Grace. Indeed, Lord Hussey and his son so ardently upheld the rebellion to stop the king from tearing down the monasteries that they died in York by royal command—hung, disemboweled, and quartered like criminals. Lady Hussey eventually perished of grief, while Philippa and her three sisters lost everything, their family’s estate forfeited by attainder of treason. That is why Philippa accepted my proposal. She had no choice. One of her sisters, Lady Browne, had been attempting to arrange a minor post for Philippa in the household of Lady Mary, who later became our queen. I knew Lady Browne’s husband from my own infrequent travels to London—he, too, is a cloth merchant—and he arranged my meeting with Philippa.”

Philippa’s sister had tried to find a post in Mary’s household; Lady Vaughan’s family had known our late queen, like Sybilla Darrier.…

Trepidation filled me as he went on. “You must understand, all of us who revere the true faith dwelled in terror. The king had destroyed everything sacrosanct to us; it was as if a curse had befallen the realm. Philippa was nineteen when we wed, but she never forgave what her family had suffered nor that because of it she was left impoverished, without a place at court. Even though she did not love me, I was willing to marry her. I always lived a quiet life; I am of good but not noble birth. My kin are not court people. My great-grandfather was born here in Yorkshire; he became a landowner after establishing himself in wool trade and acquiring Vaughan Hall. To Philippa, I was little more than a commoner. Looking back now, I fear she was right. The enclosure of monastic lands decimated me; my holdings could not compete.”

“Does your wife—did she ever mention a family called Darrier?” I had to pull the words out of my throat. “In specific, a woman named Sybilla Darrier who served Queen Mary and whose father and brothers also died in the Pilgrimage of Grace? Has anyone in your household, including this Master Godwin, ever mentioned her?”

He frowned. To my frustration, I could tell at once he had never heard the name before.

“Certainly not Master Godwin,” he said. “Philippa might, but she never talks of the past. After her sister failed to secure her a post at court, she urged Philippa to accept my proposal but Philippa herself—she acts as though her father and brother never existed, though I know she carries them in her heart. What I know of her trials, I learned because her sister’s husband told me.”

Yet it was entirely possible that Lady Browne had in fact known Sybilla. I recalled Sybilla telling me about her own father and brother’s death, which had precipitated her, her mother’s, and her sisters’ escape to Brussels, where they met Renard, the scheming Imperial ambassador. He had placed Sybilla as his spy in Mary’s service. It was an undeniable connection that I would be a fool to ignore.

Was this stranger I sought part of a circle of secret papists, bent of vengeance because of Elizabeth’s accession?

“Here.” Lord Vaughan reined to a halt. We had reached a crossroads of sorts, the road dividing into the main one leading to the City of York and the other toward the west. It was a bleak place, windswept and rugged, scattered with jagged boulders. “We found her horse here. It was in a sorry state. I had to put it down later, as it had gone lame.”

I looked about, holding down my cap with one hand as Cinnabar took advantage of our inactivity to munch on a dry patch of grass. The wind was rising, flecked with snow, the sky blackening at its edges. A storm approached. We had to return to the hall soon.

“I don’t know where the actual incident took place,” said Lord Vaughan sadly. “The horse could have wandered from the site. It was in a pitiful state after being outside all night.”

“But we know Lady Parry never reached York,” I said. “Nor did she arrive in London with Master Godwin, whose horse, unlike hers, was never found.” I did not add that I was beginning to harbor dark suspicion of this mysterious tutor sent at Lady Browne’s recommendation. There were no bodies. Was Godwin involved in the abduction, despite his outward appearance of gentility? Was he the stranger?

Thunder rumbled overhead. Bardolf lifted his hind leg to urinate on a rock. Nothing I saw gave any indication of what Lady Parry and the tutor had encountered, other than the fact that the very isolation had ensured there would be no witnesses. If there had been a struggle, it might have been visible, the land being as parched as it was, but miles stretched between here and York where a corpse might be dumped to rot.

My heart sank. The only benefit I had reaped from the excursion was the information imparted by Lord Vaughan, which in no manner provided any reassurance.

I was as far as I could be from the protection of Elizabeth and the court, and even as I stumbled around in search of clues, the stranger stalking me could be preparing his next move.

*   *   *

As soon as we returned to the manor, I led Cinnabar into the stables to unsaddle and rub him down. I found Shelton nursing his headache but otherwise looking better than when I left him. He had been offered food, which he declined, he told me, because his stomach felt like “the very pits of hell.” Gomfrey had also done his stiff best to appear both concerned and solicitous.

“That steward doesn’t care if I live or die,” Shelton remarked, with a spark of his old spirit that gave me comfort. “He makes my own time as the Dudley steward look like a bleeding saint’s. Nothing worse than a man who thinks he’s better than his position in life.”

“True,” I said, and I told him what I had learned, admitting in frustration that I was no closer to finding Lady Parry. “But I’m going to do everything I can. That wench Agnes told me last night that no one here could be trusted, so I will question her first. What about Raff?”

Shelton eyed me. “No sight of him. And you’ll have a time questioning the wench, as well. It seems she too has disappeared. Gomfrey told me she vanished in the night.”

Throwing my horse brush aside, I whirled about and strode to the manor.

*   *   *

The kitchens were in an uproar, Mistress Harper with her head in her hands weeping as Gomfrey issued a stern barrage of orders. He glanced up coldly as I barged in. “Master Prescott, his lordship is with her ladyship in the solar. You can wait in the hall. We’ve had a most distressing morning and—”

“Where is Agnes?” I demanded, cutting him off. “I am told she has vanished.”

Gomfrey blinked. “I would not say that. But she has apparently absconded. It is hardly your concern. Mistress Harper and I will contend with it.”

“First Lady Parry and the tutor disappear, then Raff, and now Agnes?” I retorted. “You have not made much of an example of contending with anything thus far.”

Gomfrey said tightly, “Begging your pardon, Master Prescott, but Raff has not disappeared. The boy has a habit of running off. He can be gone for hours, days, even. He is wild as a beast and about as unreliable. Had you inquired, I would have told you as much. I am quite certain he is somewhere about the manor and will appear in due time, as he always does.”

Mistress Harper moaned, looking ready to collapse as she wrung her apron between her hands. “All this work: whatever shall I do? Agnes knew how much I needed her; I don’t understand how she could do this, leave without a word or even her wages.”

“She left without pay?” I said. “In the middle of the night, with her fear of sprites and the roke outside? Impossible.”

“I can assure you,” Gomfrey replied, “it is not. Agnes was born in Withernsea. She knows the path home very well indeed, as she went there often to visit her mother and—”

“I saw her last night,” I said. His entire being stiffened, even as Mistress Harper gave a small gasp of dismay. “She came into my chamber to bring candles and a pitcher of water for the morning. We spoke briefly before she heard Mistress Harper call for her. I can assure you, Master Gomfrey, she showed me no inclination of leaving this manor.”

“Is this true?” Gomfrey directed his question at the housekeeper, to my disbelief.

“Do you doubt my word?” I demanded, enraged; but Mistress Harper nodded. “Yes, it’s true. I did call for Agnes. The fire needed kindling, and my hands are not what they were after a long day of cooking. I found her upstairs; she told me herself she was tending to Master Prescott. She came back to the kitchens with me, stoked the fire, and then, we … we said our goodnight.” Her voice quavered with shame, as well it should have. If the housekeeper drank herself to sleep every night, she would have no idea if Agnes had tiptoed home or fallen off the cliff.

“You should not have withheld this from me,” scolded Gomfrey. “I am the head steward: Every incident in the household, no matter how trivial, must be reported to me. Nevertheless, regardless of where she was
before
she left, the fact remains that Agnes is no longer here and now it is incumbent upon me to find a suitable replacement from the village.” He turned to me. “Master Prescott,” he said icily, “if you please? Mistress Harper has a great deal of work to attend to, if you wish to dine tonight.”

I looked again at Mistress Harper, who was dabbing her apron at her eyes and avoiding my gaze as she shuffled to her kitchen block.

Reluctantly, I followed Gomfrey. The instant we were in the inner quadrangle, I said to him, “You will not question my honor again. It seems you need reminding of who I am.”

“Oh, I know who you are.” His tone adopted a contemptuous edge. “You have made your importance quite clear to everyone, but that does not mean I need oblige you. Lest
you
need reminding, Master Prescott, you are not my lord.” He inclined his head. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must make my way to the village. We cannot be without a maidservant.”

As he moved to the hall, I called out, “Who is Hugh?”

He paused, just as Agnes had done when I asked her. Then he said, “I have no idea whom you refer to. By your leave, Master Prescott, I bid you a good afternoon.”

I returned to the kitchens. Mistress Harper gave me a weary look. “I cannot hear more questions,” she said. “I have so much to do with Agnes gone. You heard what Gomfrey said.”

I echoed the steward’s words to me: “Gomfrey is not your lord.”

She sighed. “But he is. He answers to her ladyship and oversees my charge. We are—or we were—but three servants, with poor Raff tending to the stables and gates. My lady allows Gomfrey full rein over this house. I am not surprised Agnes left, to tell the truth. Gomfrey was always chastising her for her laziness, and after that situation with the tutor—” She ran her hand over her face. “There I go again, saying things I shouldn’t. I beg you, do not press me anymore.”

“What situation with the tutor?” I moved closer, lowering my voice. “Mistress Harper, I know something happened in this house to send Lady Parry fleeing from it. No one is telling me the truth but I
will
find it anyway. Now, what is this about Agnes and Master Godwin?”