In a Treacherous Court (26 page)

The sword dropped from Norris’s hand and clattered to the floor. Body shuddering, eyes glazed, he fumbled like an old man, then sank down onto the steps.

Susanna wrenched her gaze from him and turned to look down the stairs. Harry stood one step below the landing, his hand still extended from his throw.

“I wished for a weapon, and there it was, flying down the stairs to me. It landed at my feet.” His words were hushed.

“Oh, Harry.” Susanna’s breath hitched in her throat. He shouldn’t have had to do this. Shouldn’t have had to make such a choice.

He lifted his gaze from her to Norris, his face a cold mask worthy of Parker himself. “I hope I’ve sent
him
to the devil.”

The Chiefe Conditions and Qualities in a Courtier:
To cast the stone well.

Of the Chief Conditions and Qualityes in a Waytyng Gentylwoman:
To love one that she may marye withall, beeinge a mayden and mindinge to love.

Y
ou can’t let Harry guard me.” Susanna stood irresolute, arms crossed under her breasts, and Parker felt desire flicker to life, despite the circumstances. Her hair was loose, her dress ripped and slipping from her shoulders.

Only the bruise on her right temple and the shadows in her eyes indicated this was not a woman recently well-tumbled. She looked for a chair, and Parker winced as she limped to it.

“I need to question the man you attacked with your pomander. I don’t want to take you with me.” He held up his palms in appeal. “You will be behind a locked door. If anyone should try to get in, they will have to hack their way through solid oak.”

“He is too young for the responsibility. He seriously injured a man tonight. For me.” She dropped her gaze to her hands in her lap. “I have been forced to commit violence since this began, but for Harry to have had to …” He saw the tears on her cheeks and the tremble of her shoulders.

He had avoided touching her since Harry had come to their rescue. Afraid, desperately afraid, that once he had her in his arms, he might give in to the temptation to walk away from all this with her. To leave the lot of them to sort it out amongst themselves; to kill, torture, and maim each other until the most vicious man won.

He walked to her, still hesitant, and dropped to his knees beside her. She turned to him blindly and he was lost. He pulled her from the chair and held her to him, and let her cry tears for them both.

“Harry didn’t stop Norris just for you.” Parker smoothed her hair back, and tangled his fingers in its softness.

She stopped crying on a hiccup. “I know he did it for you as well—”

“No.” Parker set her back a little so she could see his face. “He did it for himself.”

She used the back of her hand to wipe the tears away. “Himself?”

“Harry has been at the mercy of more than one Norris in his life. That look on his face when he threw the knife …” Parker’s lips twisted. “I know that look.”

She leaned into him and sighed. “I don’t want to do any more damage to him.”

“My trusting him to watch you will not damage him. I swear it.” He pressed his lips to her temple and closed his eyes, breathing in the perfume of her hair.

A loud knock at the door snapped him from the only moment of peace he’d had since they’d arrived at Greenwich. He rose, taking Susanna with him, and pushed her behind him as he moved to the door. He didn’t know when he’d drawn his sword, but it was already in his hand. He almost stumbled as he walked, light-headed with tension. Exhaustion made him feel completely detached.

“Aye?”

“It’s Denny.”

Parker opened the door and let Denny in.

“Bad news, Parker.” Denny wasted no time. “That rogue we took to the Knight Marshal, he’s been murdered.”

Parker swore and slid his sword back into its scabbard. “By whom?”

Denny shrugged. “A man dressed as a Yeoman of the Guard.”

“What?” Parker looked at him in disbelief.

Denny hunched his shoulders. “Seems a message came there was a drunken brawl in the great hall, but when the provost marshals got there, they discovered they’d been tricked.”

“And they returned to find the body?” Parker blew out a breath in disgust.

“They left our man in a locked room, but one of the off-duty marshals said he saw someone in a green and white tunic coming out of the room.”

Parker massaged his temples. Was it an impostor, or could one of the guards themselves be involved? If so, when Norfolk realized his plot with the de la Pole letters was uncovered, the King could be in danger of assassination.

“Have you found Fielder?”

“No.” Denny clenched his fists. “He’d cleared out his room and was gone by the time you got word to us to find him. If it’s any consolation, he left a trail of blood behind him.”

With Norris insensible, on the edge of death, they had no collaborators who could link Norfolk to the plot.

They had nothing.

Parker lowered his hands from his forehead and realized they were shaking. Fatigue and shock had finally caught up with him.

“You look like you need sleep, Parker.” Denny made an elegant bow to Susanna. “I am pleased to see you well, mistress. I was worried for you.”

She smiled at him, a strained, tight smile that told Parker she was as exhausted as he was. “Thank you, my lord. And for your aid to Parker when he was wounded.”

Denny held out something to her, and Parker saw it was her gold chain and pomander. She reached out and took it, cradling it in her palm. Denny bowed again, and Parker walked him out.

“Things are getting worse, aren’t they?” Susanna said when he closed the door. “We are going around in circles.”

He shrugged. “We are whittling down Norfolk’s henchmen, at the very least.”

“He seems to have an endless supply.” She sounded beyond tired.

Parker shook himself to keep focused and awake. “I will still need Harry to guard you.”

“Why? Your suspect is dead.”

“That’s what bothers me. The most likely killer was a Yeoman of the Guard. I need to see the King. One of his own guards is probably in Norfolk’s pocket.”

P
arker pushed open the door to the great hall, and saw he had arrived just in time.

The King stood beside his chair, watching the festivities. His eyes tracked one dancer in particular. Elizabeth Carew.

There was lust and anticipation on his face, and Parker wondered for the hundredth time how Henry and Nicholas Carew broke bread together, joked and tourneyed together, with Elizabeth between them. William Carey had received an estate, payment for services rendered by his wife, now that those services were no longer required.

Parker thought of his own reaction should the King wish to bed
his
woman, and found dark thoughts of murder and violence close to the surface. Both Carey and Carew had married women not of their own choosing. Perhaps that was the key. They did not care. Or they cared more for the advancement their wives’ liaisons would bring them than the betrayal of marriage vows. If he were forced to marry against his own inclinations, perhaps he would feel the same.

But he thought not.

He pushed through the crowds before the King could act on his obvious desire for his mistress and disappear.

“Your Majesty.”

The King turned to him, and Parker saw irritation and impatience in his eyes. His expression changed at the sight of Parker’s face.

“What is it?” He came down the dais steps.

“Not here,” Parker said.

Henry sent a lingering look across the room to where Elizabeth Carew stood, laughing with a few other ladies of the court. His mouth formed a stubborn line. “Yes, here. That corner over there.”

Parker nodded. In truth, it was probably as secure a place to talk as any. “There is a deep plot afoot, Your Majesty. The tentacles reach … everywhere.”

The King turned his head at that, and gave him his full attention. “Everywhere?”

“A man died tonight. He’d tried to kill me but was overcome, and I had Denny take him to the knight marshal to be watched.”

“Indeed?” The King’s nostrils flared and his eyes were wide, eager for the tale.

“Someone slipped past the Marshal’s men and killed him, dressed as a Yeoman of the Guard. I’ll speak with the captain, but this is moving fast, and we may not uncover a traitor until it is too late.”

“Who can I trust, then?” Henry looked around the room again, assessing each face for signs of betrayal.

“I am almost certain you can trust Bryan, Neville, Carey, Courtenay, and Guildford. And Denny.”

“Almost?”

Parker lifted his hands. “As I said, the game is deep. Keep them around you. Call them to you and make sure they have their swords.” He hesitated, looking across at the two Yeomen of the Guard at the door. “Just in case.”

“Who is behind this, Parker?”

Henry did not like being kept in the dark. Parker knew that, could see it in the tight lines of anger around his eyes, in the purse of his lips.

“I don’t have a name.” He would not be drawn into giving Norfolk up, only to discover the bastard had buried himself so deep behind his thugs, there was no way to out him until it was too late.

“Well, find me one.”

Parker thought of all he’d been through that evening. All Susanna had been through. He did not look away from the guards. “I will.”

The Chiefe Conditions and Qualities in a Courtier:
To daunce well without over nimble footinges or to busie trickes.

Of the Chief Conditions and Qualityes in a Waytyng Gentylwoman:
Not to make wise to abhorr companie and talke, though somewhat of the wanton-nest, to arrise and forsake them for it.

S
usanna sipped her ale and watched Parker across the breakfast table. Last night they had slept together and done nothing but sleep. Curled into Parker’s back, warm, safe, and floating on the edges of wakefulness, she’d recognized that the connection she had with him was better than any number of snatched couplings she might have had with her Ghent blacksmith.

Her heart belonged to him. And it would change nothing. She was not a suitable bride for one of the King’s trusted inner circle.

Despite that, she had never prevaricated with him. If she had not spoken words of love, she had shown him in every other way possible. He could not be unaware of her feelings.

“How’d you manage it?” Harry asked from his side of the table, and took another huge bite of bread and honey. “The other courtiers don’t get meals brought to their rooms, do they?”

“The King has made sure my way is … smoothed.” Parker looked up; while he seemed more rested, his eyes were as strained as they had been yesterday.

They had a hard path ahead of them yet.

“I am leaving you both here.” He steepled his fingers. “After yesterday, I suspect Norfolk will be feeling cornered. He won’t know how much I learned from his men, and his main servant in this plan, Fielder, is gone. If I continue to press, if I make things even more difficult for him, he may make a mistake.”

His face had been cold and unyielding since they’d risen late to the sound of Harry knocking.

As he’d dressed, Susanna had seen him fit his knife up his sleeve and slip a second one into his boot.