Tombland

‘Yes, my Lord.’ Cecil bowed, as did I. Rich gave me a look of pure malevolence, then walked swiftly to the door, his silk robe rustling. He slammed it behind him – he ever had a streak of petulance. Cecil and I were left alone. He did not speak until he heard the outer door slam, too.

‘You truly know nothing of any of this?’ he asked quietly.

‘Nothing, I swear.’

‘I did not think so. Master Parry knows well when to keep things to himself.’ He smiled thinly. ‘Rich is one of those in charge of the interrogations; when your name came up he insisted on questioning you himself. The Protector asked me to accompany him, to make sure he did not – exceed himself.’

‘Thank you, Master Cecil.’

His face became grave. ‘Seymour’s plotting, though, is a desperately serious matter. And if the Lady Elizabeth did indeed consent to marry him without the Council’s agreement, which would never have been given, that is treason.’

‘But unless the Lady Elizabeth agreed to an illegal marriage, she is innocent. That is also true of Parry and Kat Ashley.’

‘It is.’ Cecil’s shoulders relaxed slightly. ‘I think Parry and Ashley may be found guilty only of careless gossip, and Elizabeth of nothing.’

I hesitated, then asked, ‘Is it true, then, about Seymour’s advances to the Lady Elizabeth?’

An expression of distaste crossed his thin features. ‘I fear, according to Ashley, that it is. It was when the late Queen Catherine caught them embracing that she sent Elizabeth away.’

I shook my head. ‘I would not have thought the Lady Elizabeth would ever be so – thoughtless.’

He sighed. ‘Young girls are impressionable, and Seymour has the charm of the devil.’

‘The evidence against him on the other matters –’

‘Irrefutable. It will be public knowledge very soon. He intended to take control of the King. I do not think anything can save Thomas Seymour now. The Protector will have to execute his own brother.’ Cecil shook his head. ‘It is dreadful for him.’

‘Yes.’ I sighed. ‘Poor Queen Catherine. Poor Elizabeth.’

‘You do not say, “poor Thomas Seymour”.’

‘As I told Rich, if he is guilty, let him get what he deserves.’

‘It will be the axe.’

There was a moment of silence, then Cecil rubbed his slim hands together. ‘Will you go and call Parry’s servants? Rich sent them out, they will be huddling in the inner hall. It is cold in here. We should get them to light a fire if we are to go through Master Parry’s papers.’

* * *

IT WAS A STRANGE , uncomfortable thing to go through my employer’s documents. Master Parry and I were not friends, but I respected him. To my relief, we found nothing. Afterwards, as we donned our coats to leave, Cecil paused thoughtfully and glanced towards the window. Dust motes, stirred by our searching, whirled in a ray of winter sunlight. ‘Master Shardlake,’ he said quietly, ‘I do not think the Lady Elizabeth is in any real danger, but she has never been in great favour with the Protector, and this scandal will only make him more suspicious of her. His is not –’ he paused, and sighed – ‘a trusting nature, and his own brother’s treason will make it even less so. When you see Master Parry, tell him to warn the Lady Elizabeth to be careful no breath of scandal touches her again.’

‘Thank you, Master Cecil. I will.’ Then I added, curiously, ‘Why would you help her?’

He inclined his head, then raised both palms and held them up in perfect balance. ‘The King has two sisters. Mary an enemy of true religion, Elizabeth a friend. For now, political reasons mean the Lady Mary has the Protector’s favour. But perhaps, when she is older, Elizabeth may be used to redress the balance.’

Part One LONDON

Chapter One

June 1549

It rained throughout our journey to Hatfield Palace; hard, heavy rain that dripped from our caps and made our horses’ reins slippery and slick. Occasionally, a gust of cold wind drove it at us slantwise; as though even now, in early June, the chill of the hard winter and cold spring was reluctant to let go of the land.

There were six of us in the party that set out from London in the grey morning; myself, my young assistant Nicholas and four sturdy men in the service of Master Comptroller Parry, swords and knives at their waists. Their leader, a taciturn middle-aged man named Fowberry, had arrived at Lincoln’s Inn the previous morning, bearing a letter from his master requiring me to attend the Lady Elizabeth at Hatfield on a case of urgency and delicacy. I was to return there with him, stay the night at an inn outside the town, and meet with Parry and the Lady Elizabeth the following morning. The letter added that he was sending Fowberry and his men to accompany us back as a precaution, given the unsettled state of the country after the risings in May. It was unlike Parry, a naturally verbose man, to be so brief, and I wondered what it augured. The purchase and sale of lands, the business I had conducted for him on behalf of the Lady Elizabeth these last two years, occasionally involved delicacy, but seldom urgency.