C. Gortner - The Tudor Conspiracy

I noted he made no mention of the emperor or Prince Philip, though there could be no doubt he was acting as much on their behalf as the queen’s. Indeed, this so-called subversive element could be a direct result of the queen’s consideration of a foreign Catholic prince as her spouse, only months into her own reign.

“But you believe her subjects do, in fact, seek her harm?” I said carefully.

“I know it.” He set his hand on the desk. “The queen has enemies not only in the land but here, in this very court! They seek to destroy her peace of mind and overthrow her rule, if they can manage it. They would plunge England into chaos, to their own advantage.”

“I see. May I ask who these enemies are, precisely?”

“Do you propose I give you names?” he retorted. “If I had them, we’d hardly have need of you, now would we?”

“Nevertheless, you mentioned you’ve had an eye on this subversive element for some time. Surely you must have some idea of who they are?”

He went quiet, regarding me as if he were contemplating throwing me out. Then he said tersely, “I have only suspicions, unfortunately.” He paused again, drawing out the moment. I didn’t reveal my apprehension, waiting patiently as if I had this whole day. Abruptly he came to his feet, moving to the window. Standing with his back to me, he said, “If you succeed in finding these traitors, Her Majesty will be generous. An official post at court is not out of the question; perhaps a title and grant of lands, if you prefer. But in return, the evidence must be unassailable. She will not be satisfied with less.”

“It sounds as if my loyalty is in question,” I said.

He turned around to me. Though nothing outward in his demeanor had changed, his tone now held unmistakable menace. “The queen has expressed confidence in you. Naturally, I must bow to her wisdom. Nevertheless, a man for hire, with no stated religious affiliation, who once worked for Cecil and is available to the highest bidder-well, surely you can appreciate my concern.”

“I do.” I inclined my head. “I thank you for your time. I’d not wish to be an impediment. I can seek my livelihood elsewhere and spare you this … concern.”

He let me stand. I moved to the door and actually set my hand on the latch before he remarked, “Her Majesty wants you, and you alone, for this task. In fact, she commands it.”

I swallowed and returned to my chair. My mind raced. It seemed I hadn’t kept Mary’s trust after all. I had stepped into the viper’s nest. This time, she would have me prove myself in a job of her choosing, and everything told me I wasn’t going to like it.

Renard let the moment settle. Then he said, “I would not hire you were it within my purview. You are not the sort of man to entrust with a matter of this gravity, and I protested as much to Her Majesty. Still, she gave me her order, and I must obey.” He paused; his next words hit me like a bludgeon to the stomach. “The suspects she wishes you to investigate,” he said, “are Edward Courtenay, Earl of Devon, and the Lady Elizabeth.”

I tasted bile. Though I’d expected this, to hear it said aloud was terrible, and it confirmed what Cecil had told me about Renard having Mary’s ear.

“If you know who your suspects are,” I said, my entire body tightening in the chair, as if braced for an assault, “why not simply arrest and question them?”

He made an impatient sound. “Her Majesty is a trusting woman. She does not want to think the worst of anyone, much less her own sister and her cousin. She’ll not act before she has the proper evidence.”

“And you expect me to…?”

“Hardly. You’d never get any closer to Lady Elizabeth, for example, than you did last night with that dog. She hides her true self like no other; she is as cunning as she is wary. I daresay nothing short of the rack would break her.” He smiled-actually smiled. “And we can hardly throw her on the rack, now can we? Nor do we dare arrest her yet; that would only alert her supporters, who would change whatever they plan to evade detection.”

“Supporters?” I echoed. “You believe she has supporters?”

“Traitors invariably do. And while Lady Elizabeth and the Earl of Devon cannot be questioned directly, if they conspire to treason, as I believe they do, it stands to reason there must be some evidence of their conspiracy. We need any letters that may have gone between them and their accomplices, as well as dates and places of their meetings. This is what I require of you. And I require it before their conspiracy comes to pass.” He paused, with emphasis. “The queen may be trusting, but I, Master Beecham, am not. A man in my position cannot afford to be.”

I had to force myself to lean back in my chair, my hand at my beard. Elizabeth had once told me that Mary was incapable of trust, having inherited the worst of their father; now I understood what she meant. It wasn’t that Mary could not trust; it was that she was easily persuaded to doubt-a doubt Renard now preyed on to his own ends.

Mary still had a conscience, though; she had insisted on hiring me because she was unwilling to condemn her sister on Renard’s word alone. That had made him desperate. His secret plans for the queen’s marriage could not stay secret for much longer; time was running out. The uproar against Mary’s decision to wed the Spanish prince could be worse than he anticipated; should others at court vocalize their opposition, it would be difficult to single out Elizabeth as the cause. To succeed in destroying the princess, Renard needed proof of treason before any public announcement of the queen’s betrothal was made.

That meant I could win. I could beat the ambassador at his own gambit.

“What if nothing can be found?” I asked. “Again, excuse me for stating the obvious, but with two such persons, well, surely you can appreciate my concerns. I value my reputation, my lord, such as it is, and the Lady Elizabeth is the queen’s heir.”

His face turned cold. “I’d not be so quick to consider her such. There is serious question as to her suitability. Some believe she is not the king’s daughter at all. The queen herself has her doubts. She once told me she sees nothing of her father in Elizabeth and too much of her whore of a mother.”

My fist clenched at my side. Had I not found myself in this position, I’d have knocked his teeth out for uttering such baseless filth.

“It is not in my purview to speculate on such matters,” I managed to say. “But if evidence cannot be found against the Lady Elizabeth, I’ve no desire to be singled out as the man who sought to incriminate her.”

“You won’t be,” said Renard. “As I mentioned, this task is strictly confidential. Only the queen and I know of it. You can rest assured that Her Majesty would not have asked you to undertake it if she doubted the outcome. Do you understand?”

I did. I understood all too well. I understood I had no guarantee he wouldn’t order me killed the moment I delivered what he requested. I also understood that while he might hide behind the queen’s authority, this was his deed. He had orchestrated an invasion by a foreign power through the betrothal with Prince Philip and would not cease until he had Elizabeth on the block. He was ruthless and lethal.

To save the princess, he must be defeated.

“I understand perfectly, my lord,” I said.

He remained motionless, his glacial stare fixed on me. Then his expression shifted with mercurial swiftness, that false air of camaraderie resurfacing in the blink of an eye.

“I’m pleased to hear it, as will be Her Majesty. I’m sure I needn’t add that you must refrain from making yourself too visible about court, as you did last night. And if you provide me with a list of expenditures, I’ll do my best to see them fulfilled. Though I must warn you, my resources are quite limited. However, I can spare an extra man if you…?”

Either he toyed with me or he’d forgotten who he was dealing with. Did he actually think I’d ask him to set a spy on me?

I stifled the urge to smile. “I prefer to work on my own, given the delicate nature of this assignment. However, a third of my wage up front would be appreciated. Oh, and a new dagger, if at all possible. I seem to have misplaced mine.”

He wrote on a paper, then rang a small silver bell on his desk. The rotund clerk waddled in, wiping his hands on his breeches, spilling crumbs.

“Take care of this,” Renard said, thrusting the paper at him, “before you resume your dinner.” The clerk scowled and trudged out. Renard turned to me with an exasperated look. “Decent help is so difficult to find these days. I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to finally be working with a professional. I’ll expect a report from you in, say, three days? I trust that’s sufficient time to compile…?”

“I’ll do my best,” I said. I stood and shook his hand, resisting the revulsion I felt as I enclosed his dry palm briefly in mine.

Let the hunt begin.

I inhaled deep of the winter air, cleansing my mind and lungs as I strode across the base court toward the stable block, my new Spanish poniard of flexible Toledo steel secured in my boot, my sword at my side and my purse weighting my pocket.

The day was crisp; distant clouds clustered on the horizon, white as the snow on the ground. Urgency quickened my step. I prayed Elizabeth would keep our appointment; she had to be apprised that Renard was setting a trap for her. For the moment, I was a step ahead. I’d just been hired by the man I must thwart, but I still had Courtenay’s henchman to worry about. She could tell the earl to get his man to back off, but until then I was exposed, and I kept looking over my shoulder, listening for the telltale crunch of feet on snow that would alert me I was being followed.