Tombland

‘Master Overton is copying them now. I will do my best to ensure justice is done – you may be sure of that.’

Elizabeth nodded. She sat thoughtfully a moment, then said, with a sad smile, ‘You have never married, have you, Serjeant Shardlake?’

‘No, my Lady.’

‘Why is that?’ she asked, with genuine curiosity.

I hesitated. ‘I have a certain – disability – in the marriage market.’

‘Oh tush,’ she said, waving a hand. ‘I have known many hunchbacks who have married, and far worse-looking than you.’

I caught my breath. Nobody else would have dared address the matter with such brutal frankness. Mistress Blanche gave a warning cough, but Elizabeth waved it away, those brown eyes on mine.

I laughed uneasily. ‘I have perhaps been too demanding where matters of the heart are concerned. More than once I have admired women who were – above my station.’ I regretted saying that immediately, for Catherine Parr had been one of them. I wondered if Elizabeth had guessed, but her look was hard to read. I added lamely, ‘And I am an old whitehead now, I think it too late for me.’

I had expected her to contradict me again, but instead she nodded, her expression hardening. She said, ‘I have decided that I shall never marry.’

‘My Lady –’ Mistress Blanche began.

Again Elizabeth waved her away imperiously. ‘I am telling everyone, so my intentions may be known.’

I ventured, ‘But if you should change your mind –’

‘Never.’ Elizabeth’s voice remained calm, but her tone was intense now. ‘I want all to know, so there will be no more plots to take me to the altar for the political gain of some man.’ She continued looking at me. ‘I know what marriage can mean, for women of royal station. I saw what happened to Catherine Parr. How the papists plotted to blacken her good name with my father, and have him do away with her. As you well know. And then, her marriage to Thomas Seymour.’ She coloured, the blood rising into her pale face. ‘He married her for her position, and behaved without honour, so that she cursed him on her deathbed.’

‘My Lady!’

Blanche’s voice was insistent now, but still Elizabeth ignored her. She said, ‘First there is love, then marriage, then betrayal, then death. That is what happened to Catherine Parr.’ She added quietly, ‘And one before her.’

I lowered my eyes. She meant her mother. Elizabeth should not be talking to me like this. As though reading my thoughts, she smiled sadly. ‘I know I can trust your confidence, Serjeant Shardlake. I have known that since I first met you, and I have come to learn how rare a quality that is. And I know that you will ensure – this time – that a Boleyn is given justice, and the murderer of that poor woman who came to me seeking succour, is punished. Whoever it may be.’

Chapter Four

While Nicholas completed his copying I was permitted to take a walk through Hatfield Palace Gardens. Under the blue sky, following the pathways between the trees, I could believe that summer had, at last, arrived. Entering a patch of woodland I spied a deer, feeding on the leaves of a low-hanging branch. Two tiny fauns, just learning to walk on spindly legs, stood beside her. I stood stock-still, watching until the doe moved deeper into the trees, the fauns tripping uncertainly after. I sighed, not welcoming the thought of the long ride back to London.

It was early afternoon when we left; a night’s accommodation had been booked for us at an inn at Whetstone, somewhat over halfway back. Parry’s man Fowberry brought the horses round and saw us off. As we rode down the drive I glanced back, looking at the windows glinting in the sun, and wondered whether the Lady Elizabeth was watching.

After a few miles my back and legs were already sore. I thought of the coming journey to Norfolk, the longest I had undertaken in several years. I would have an uncomfortable time. I wished I had been less remiss of late in the exercises Guy had set for my back. I wondered whether he himself was better; the next few days would be busy, but I would make time to visit him.

The road to London was quieter than on the way out, and there were no other riders in sight when Nicholas, beside me, said quietly, ‘Ho, ahead there.’ I saw, walking along the road with their backs to us, a group of a dozen raggedly dressed people. They included a woman and a couple of children, but most were men, one wearing the tattered rags of a soldier’s jacket, the white cross of England on the back. Some of the men had staffs, no other weapons visible save the knives all men carried at their belts.

Nicholas said, ‘I wonder if those are the people who made the fire we saw last night, that the constable moved on.’

‘Perhaps. There are so many on the road these days. They don’t look dangerous.’

‘All the same, let’s get by. They shouldn’t be taking the middle of the roadway.’