In a Treacherous Court (29 page)

Norfolk would be trying to extort something from him for
her safe return. Silence, or aid. And Parker might just accede to his demands to buy a little time to find her, even though he must know as well as she did that Norfolk would never let either of them live.

The icy puddle of water in the well of the boat had seeped through the sack, through her velvet dress, and dug cold fingers into her skin.

She shivered, and the toe of her slipper snagged on something. She tried to hold herself still and feel what it was.

The small opening at the neck of the sack.

She stretched her legs out and kicked, trying not to upset the boat. If it overturned she would sink to the bottom of the Thames. The drawstring stretched open a little way, and then the knot held.

Susanna wiggled her foot, testing for any weakness. The cord pulled tighter into an even more secure knot.

She gave in to frustration and panic, slamming her feet into the side of the small boat. It rocked wildly, tipping deeply to the left, and Susanna froze in terror. When at last the rocking subsided, she said a prayer of thanks.

She couldn’t afford the luxury of panic. She thought of what Parker might be doing to save her. Thought of everything she had to lose, and then carefully pushed her foot into the opening again.

Y
our Majesty.” Parker bowed low, then he stood before her chair by the fire. She was sewing Henry’s fine linen shirts, her plump, delicate fingers moving easily over the fabric.

“It is not like you to bring intrigue and danger to my chambers, Parker.” She inclined her head toward a chair beside hers, and despite his wish to be off as soon as possible, Parker forced himself to sit without haste or hesitation.

“No, it isn’t.” He sat straight, ready to rise.

“You cannot tell me the details.” It was not a question and she spoke stoically. There was a time, before Parker had come to court, when the Queen would have known the details all too well. Would have been advising Henry. When Katherine’s father made an alliance with the Emperor behind Henry’s back, her husband had never trusted her counsel again.

The Queen took his long silence for agreement and sighed. “What
can
you tell me, Parker?”

“That time is of the essence. Every minute I lose could be disastrous.”

“It is even less like you to be melodramatic.” She looked at him with clear eyes, and Parker could not help but wonder if she was comparing him to Henry, who loved melodrama. “So I can only assume you are speaking true.”

Parker waited for her to dismiss him, but she stretched the moment out longer.

He must have made some movement, a twitch of impatience, because she smiled. There was something petulant in the quirk of her lips.

“I’m sorry. I should not tease you, but it is all the power I have these days. I give you leave to go.”

Parker stood and bowed again, forcing himself to keep his
eyes on her, to give her the respect of her station. “My thanks, Your Majesty.”

She waved him off, but as he bowed, he saw her expression briefly turn bitter.

He couldn’t blame her.

The Chiefe Conditions and Qualities in a Courtier:
Not to folowe his own fansie, or alter the expresse wordes in any point of his commission from hys Prince or Lorde, onlesse he be assured that the profit will be more, in case it have good successe, then the damage, if it succeade yll.

Of the Chief Conditions and Qualityes in a Waytyng Gentylwoman:
To devise sportes and pastimes.

T
wo men stood near Norfolk’s rooms. They looked up, tense, as Parker strode forward, and he noted they were roughly dressed.

They moved to stand shoulder to shoulder, blocking the way to the door, but Parker didn’t slow down and he had no weapon in either hand. He sensed their surprise, their confusion as he came within striking distance.

“Halt.” One man lifted a thick stick as he spoke, and Parker smiled at him and kept coming. The man jerked back a half-step, a moment before Parker leaped and punched him in the face. In the same movement, he lifted his left arm up and across, slamming his elbow into the second man’s ear. As both
fell, Parker flicked his arm, and straightened with his knife in hand. The two lay stunned and groaning on the floor.

It didn’t begin to ease his anger at Susanna’s taking. His hand clenched tight around the knife hilt as he struggled with the yearning to draw blood.

“If you are still in the palace by the time I call the Yeomen of the Guard, you’ll go to the Tower. I would think you have less than a half hour.” He spoke with quiet conviction, and the men dragged themselves to their feet and staggered away.

Parker took out the key he had requested from the Keeper of Greenwich Palace and turned it in the lock.

Norfolk stood beside his desk, and Parker could tell from the dart of his eyes that he knew Parker had overcome his guards. He swallowed convulsively. “There are plenty more where those came from.”

Parker slammed the door behind him. “Given the rank amateurs you’ve drafted into this, I’m sure you’re right.” He lifted his knife. “Where is she, you bastard?”

Norfolk did not hide his satisfaction. “My rank amateurs did a creditable job of spiriting her away, don’t you think?” He smiled and lifted a goblet from the table, then took a sip of wine. “Keeping servants in my employ has never proved so beneficial as today. I thought your little painter would be behind a locked door, so imagine my delight to discover she was in the Queen’s chamber. And who among us can turn down a direct summons from the Queen?”

Parker readjusted his grip on his knife handle.

“Tsk, tsk, Parker.” Norfolk laughed. “Given that her life
hangs in the balance, it’s in your interest to keep me alive and well.”

Parker fought the rage and the panic and the fear behind a blank mask, and his body shuddered as he pinned it under control.

“What do you want?”

“That must surely be obvious. I want you to become blind, deaf, and dumb, Parker. I want you to say nothing as I bring forward startling, worrying intelligence that the King’s most trusted men are betraying him.” Norfolk stroked the gold chain around his neck.

“When do you plan to do it?”

“This evening, just before dinner.”

“And what happens if I say nothing?”

Norfolk lifted an eyebrow. “
If
you say nothing, when you return from the furor, you will find her back in her chamber.”

“What is to stop me speaking out when I have her back?”

Norfolk shrugged. “The damage would be done. The seed planted. That’s all I need.”

“How can I trust you?” Parker’s knuckles tightened to white as he gripped his blade.

Norfolk crossed his arms over his chest. “The only certainty is that if you cross me, she
will
die.”

Parker watched him for a long moment, then turned and swung the door open.

“See you in the dining hall, Parker.” Norfolk’s call was soft.

Parker’s footsteps didn’t falter. The coldness in Norfolk’s eyes set every instinct humming. No matter how he played
this, the only way he’d see Susanna again was if he found her himself.

And he had less than three hours to do it.

A
nything?” Parker detached himself from the deep shadow of the courtyard wall as Harry came out of the kitchens, munching on an apple.

Harry nodded, and Parker went back to his dark alcove, making space for Harry to join him.

“Nothing on the Queen’s servant—no one knows, or they ain’t talking, if someone there is taking bribes from Norfolk. But they were talking about a man who bribed a few of them to keep off that back staircase for fifteen minutes during the midday repast.”

Harry stopped to swallow and Parker grabbed the apple out of his hand. “We’ve got three hours before Norfolk kills her, so talk.”

“The man was abrasive and high-handed, insulted most of them even as he paid them. One of ’em thought he was Norfolk’s groom, and then another servant said he’d heard Norfolk was trying to get his mistress into the Queen’s apartments, see if the Queen would take her as a maid of honor. That way he could have her at court at the King’s expense.”

Norfolk’s mistress. The jolt of shock he’d felt when the maid of honor had said the same thing slammed into him again. It was the least cautious move Norfolk had made. A man’s mistress was a direct link to him, the first time Norfolk
had allowed his own hand to be seen so close to the action. The act of a desperate man.

“I want to find that mistress. But first, the groom.” He slid a knife off his belt, the one he’d taken from Fielder the day before, and handed it to Harry.

“A loan?” Harry’s eyes widened.

“It’s yours. Let’s go find Susanna.”

Harry touched the knife with something approaching reverence, and Parker recalled the day his own father had given him a small bow to practice with. A rite of passage. He waited until Harry had attached the sheath to his belt, then stepped out of cover to make for the stables. Harry flanked him on his right.

The three men huddled for warmth around a small fire just outside the stable door were friends of Simon’s. Parker stepped up to them easily.

“I have a problem.” He kept his voice pitched low.

They stepped closer, heads bent toward him.

“I need to find Norfolk’s groom, and I need to find him before he knows I’m looking for him.”

There was a moment of silence.

“What’s he done?” The cartman who asked had worked under Simon more than once, and Parker knew he was steady. He saw him taking stock of Harry before returning his gaze to Parker.

“Betrayed the King.” No reason to make it more complicated than that. There was no motivation stronger than helping to find a traitor. Accomplices tended to come to just as bad an end as the main villain.

“Far stall, with some fancy light-skirt.” The cartman jerked his head in the direction of the massive barn.

Could Norfolk’s groom be keeping Susanna in the far stall, under the pretense he was entertaining a whore? Parker was gripped by the quick, heady flutter of hope, the thrill of anticipation, the yearning once more to draw blood.

He drew his sword and his knife, and all three men stepped back.

“Reckon you need help?” The young groom who spoke had the fire of action in his eyes. He took a step closer to Harry, as if to join them.

Parker gave a brief nod of acknowledgment. “Can you each take an entrance? Make sure no one enters or leaves?”

“Sir.” The cartman touched his forehead.

Parker stepped into the stable, Harry behind him like a shadow, and moved forward silently on the hard earth floor to the end of the first row of stalls, then cut across to the far back.

There was silence in the last stall, and he was about to approach it when someone spoke. Parker crouched down. He looked back to make sure Harry had done the same, and crept forward.

“You sure she can breathe in that sack?”

It was a woman, but not Susanna, and the crush of disappointment hit Parker like a body blow. He forced himself to concentrate.

“Maybe not well, but enough to keep her alive. That’s all she has to be, alive.” A man’s voice, low, with an edge of impatience.