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Authors: Michelle Diener

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BOOK: In Defense of the Queen
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At last they were in Henry’s private quarters, and he sank into a chair near the fire in his study, and drew Fitzroy onto his lap.

“What is this, Parker?” Henry shook his head. “This comes from nowhere.”

Parker rubbed his chin and nodded in acknowledgement. “I was given the information this afternoon, and went straight to Durham House. Just in time, too. The attempt was made no more than a half hour after I arrived.”

“Croke told me. He told me you acted with great courage and that one of the Tower guards was severely injured.”

“Captain Kilburne. He was there to escort my lady to her appointment, to paint his lordship. He was struck by a bolt while blocking Master Fitzroy with his body.”

“Croke also told me you carried my boy yourself, mistress, covering his body with your own as you ran.” Henry was watching her, his eyes unreadable. Given their last conversation, the way he had deliberately hurt her, threatened her, she could not know what he was thinking now. She merely bowed her head and murmured assent.

“She held me on the horse, she drew a knife to protect us.” Fitzroy’s words were muffled, exhaustion seeping into his voice. “And Master Parker.” The eyes he lifted to Parker were full of hero-worship. “He drew them off, using himself as bait, and then he came for us at the Tower, like a dark knight from a story.”

“What is this about denying you entrance there?” Henry’s voice shook a little, and Susanna realized it was not relief at having his boy, but rage.

“The Cardinal had no proof of Susanna’s treason by nightfall, and Susanna was no longer a prisoner in the Tower. They refused her entry and did not believe her when she said they were pursued by assassins and that she had Master Fitzroy with her.” Parker crossed his arms over his chest.

“Did they not call for Wolsey? I am told he is still at the Tower.”

“He was dining with the Constable and would not be disturbed.” Eric spoke, daring and cheeky in the circumstances.

“Who was behind this, Parker?” Henry frowned at Eric as he spoke, and if trying to remember why he was there.

Susanna wondered how much Parker would say. How much would be dangerous to Lucas. “Some foreign spies, sir. Turned loose by their master and without funds. They were approached by someone at this court. Took the job for want of the money.”

“Who at court?” Henry was very still.

Parker shook his head. “I do not know. And the spies are all dead, or disappeared now. I deemed Fitzroy’s safety more important than running them down.”

“Aye.” Henry rubbed a hand through Fitzroy’s hair. “You chose wisely.” He set Fitzroy off his lap and stood. “You are all commended for your help. Parker, will you take Fitzroy to a bedchamber, and make sure he has an appropriate guard? Master Croke was only just behind me, and should be arriving soon.”

Parker nodded, and stood back for Susanna to leave the room before him.

Henry shook his head. “I would speak with Mistress Horenbout alone.”

Parker bowed and caught her eye. She shared a look with him, and he took Fitzroy by the hand, led him out followed by Eric and Harry.

Susanna waited, head bowed, until the door swung shut behind them.

“You have me at a disadvantage, mistress.” The King sat again beside the fire. “I recall our last meeting was not amicable. And yet, I am now deeply in your debt.”

She said nothing.

“What have you to say?”

“You owe me nothing for helping to save Fitzroy. As it is, I bought the information on the plans for his assassination with something of yours. And what I risked of my life for him, I did freely, for him alone. Not to create a debt of obligation from you.” Her voice shook as she spoke. She did not know when she’d decided to tell Henry about the Mirror. But now was the time, if there ever was to be a time. Now, while the flush of happiness at his son’s safety was strongest.

“It was you who discovered the plan to kill Fitzroy?”

“Aye.” She drew out the letter Jean had given her and past it to him. “The French assassin who tried to steal the Mirror of Naples in March tracked me down to the Tower. Offered what he knew of the plan in exchange for the whereabouts of the Mirror.”

“And you told him.” Henry’s voice was flat as he read the short missive.

“I thought you would gladly exchange the Mirror for information that could help to save your son, Your Majesty.” She had never been so daring.

There was a startled silence. “You are right. Fitzroy is my male heir. He is beyond the price of diamonds.”

“If it would make it easier for you to accept, the Frenchman told me he does not plan to return the Mirror to King Francis. He plans to have it cut down and sold, for his personal purse.”

She watched Henry from the corner of her eye, saw him absently drum his fingers on the arm of his chair. “That does make it easier. I need not inform anyone of its disappearance. The French will not officially have it back. There is no loss of face.”

She stood quietly, waiting for her dismissal, her hands curled into fists. She could feel the gem of the King’s ring pressing into her palm.

Henry stood. “Take your leave, knowing I will not speak against your betrothal again. And there will be no more slurs against your loyalty. From Wolsey or anyone else.”

She dipped in curtsy and made to go.

“One last thing.”

She turned with her hand on the door.

“I bade the Queen show me the likeness you made of my daughter. Make sure you finish that painting of Fitzroy in time for his acceptance into the Order of the Garter. And make sure it is just as good.”

She nodded. Opened the door.

“No.”

She paused again.

“Make sure it is better.”

 

Chapter Thirty-seven

 

a prince ought to take more care of his people’s happiness than of his own, as a shepherd is to take more care of his flock than of himself

Utopia by Thomas More (translated by H. Morley)

 

“N
orfolk.” Parker closed the door of Fitzroy’s private chambers and stepped into the passage, his body blocking the way. He should not be surprised that Norfolk had the nerve to come here. To see for himself whether his plan to kill Fitzroy had come to nothing.

“I hear of great escapades, Parker. Of rides through the streets of London, with the King’s son beneath your cloak.”

“And I hear of French spies accepting a job to kill the King’s son from a nobleman of this court, and have someone who saw one of those spies visit a particular nobleman’s house during the negotiations.”

Norfolk drew back, his head jerking as if Parker had slapped him with his glove. “And what have you done with what you have heard?”

“I have only my informant’s word on where the spy went. But I will try to find proof of that nobleman’s identity, and then, of course, I will take all I know to the King.”

“Of course.” Norfolk took a step back. “Of course you will.” His lips formed a thin, bitter line. “You know, it would serve me well to have you killed Parker. You are nothing but a thorn in my side.”

“I might say the same.” Parker’s gaze flicked over Norfolk’s shoulder, saw the two guards who had helped him at Durham House coming down the corridor.

He accepted their salute, and felt a lift of tension. These two, at least, could be trusted. “No one comes in without Master Croke’s approval. And you escort his lordship wherever he may go, within the palace or without.”

They nodded their agreement and took up place, hard-eyed, before the door.

“You might take this advice,” Parker said as he and Norfolk walked away. “If any accident should befall Fitzroy, I will go to the King with your name, whether I have conclusive proof, or not.”

“He would not believe it.” Norfolk barked out a laugh, but Parker could smell the stink of his fear, sharp and sour.

Parker stepped away from him, turned back to the King’s rooms to find Susanna. “Perhaps he won’t.” He shrugged. “It’s a chance I’ll take to bring you down.”

As he walked away, the spot between his shoulders twitched. If Norfolk could, his dagger would be buried there. To the hilt.

He only regretted there was almost no hope of connecting Norfolk to the assassination attempt. The word of a street boy against the Duke of Norfolk would never stand. And he was sure none of the spies had been foolish enough to remain in London. They were long gone now.

And once again, Norfolk weaselled himself free.

* * *

Susanna closed the door behind her and stared at it.

“King got your tongue?”

She choked back a scream and spun round. Saw Will Somers leaning against the passage wall. She lifted a hand to her heart and took a deep breath. “That was not kind.”

“I am not kind. Or so they say.” He lifted a shoulder.

“I say they are wrong.” She slipped the ring from her finger, and held it out. “And I thank you. I did not need to use it, but there were many occasions on which it would have saved me, had fate not been on my side.”

“Ah. Fate or your own cleverness, mistress? I think it would be hard to tell.” He took it from her with a smile, and it disappeared into a pocket. No doubt later he would slip it back where he had found it, and no one would be the wiser. Except for her. He had risked a great deal for her.

“Why do you help me?”

“I would say that it is merely a whim, but the truth of it is—”

“Susanna?”

Parker was suddenly standing behind the King’s Fool, almost invisible in his dark clothes in the gloom.

She held Somers’ gaze. “The truth of it is?”

“Nothing. Nothing that cannot wait for another day.” He turned to Parker and bowed. “My congratulations on a rescue of great daring, sir. You are flying high in the King’s favour now.”

“That could change in a moment, as you know.” Parker watched Somers with a strange look in his eyes. “But it would take a lot for you to be out of favour with me, Fool. I am in your debt for the aid you leant us.”

“I ask you but one thing, regarding this esteem in which you hold me, and the deed itself.” Somers backed down the passageway.

“And what is that?”

“Do not tell anyone of it.” The Fool laughed, a high, mocking sound. “It would quite ruin me.”

 

Chapter Thirty-eight

 

another proposes the gaining of the Emperor by money, which is omnipotent with him;

Utopia by Thomas More (translated by H. Morley

 

“L
ucas?” Susanna slid down from Parker’s horse, and looked from her brother, loading his bags into a cart at the front of the house, to Parker. Parker said nothing, urging his horse round to the stables, giving her a moment alone with him.

“Your boys told me you were safe, and pardoned.” He placed another trunk in the back of the cart with care. His head was bound, neat and tight, and Susanna knew Maggie must have been round to dress his injury.

“Where are you going?” She looked from the bags to him to the lamp-holding cartsman, waiting patiently on the driving bench, and then stepped in close, put her arms around him. “I was so worried about you, about your head.”

He moved back, disentangling himself from her embrace. “Your betrothed doesn’t share your concern.” He spoke without bitterness.

“Parker told me how you tried to save me. What you risked by giving me that missive.” She paused and then looked straight at him. “What made you go to work for Uncle Louis?” She would never understand that. Why would he risk everything for Louis de Praet?

“He made is sound like an adventure. A lucrative adventure.” Lucas looked away, at the cart horse, blowing its impatience. “Then Margaret gave me that letter and I made the mistake of not just sending word to Uncle Louis, but Heyman, as well. Uncle Louis asked me to keep up correspondence with him, and as we had been friends, it was easy to do. No one on either side looked twice at the letters he sent, but they were written in pre-arranged code, and I passed his information on the English court along. If I had not sent that letter to Heyman before I left, telling him what Margaret wanted me to do, thinking myself so useful, I would never have caused this trouble. I did not know the lengths Heyman would go to keep that letter out of the Queen Katherine’s hands.” He rubbed his forehead.

“It is all right. By chance, this trouble uncovered another plot, to kill the King’s son, Henry Fitzroy. It saved his life.”

Lucas looked up at that. “Then I am glad some good came of it.” He lifted a satchel. “I am going home, Susanna. I am sure you will see us all back here, Father and Mother and I, but later this year. I need to cut my ties with Uncle Louis, and I need to help Father pack his
atelier
. If he truly wishes to come here, there is much to do before he can leave.”

She nodded. “I might not wait for your return to marry.”

He accepted that with a nod. “Do not expect Mother to be happy with that. But I understand. Your betrothed is a better protector than Father or I have ever been.” Lucas leaned forward and kissed her on both cheeks.

BOOK: In Defense of the Queen
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