Keeper of the King's Secrets (18 page)

“I think you’re right.” Peter Jack dropped his hand from the door handle. “Which means if he can find Parker, can bring him to us …”

A heavy, roiling serpent took up residence in her stomach. “I would be obliged to commit treason.”

B
ridewell was lit with candles and lanterns. As she walked down the passageways, she thought there was an extra gleam on everything tonight, as if there were some special occasion.

She had chosen not to involve Simon.

If things didn’t work out, if she ended her days on the headman’s block, she wanted her taint on as few people as possible. That Harry and Peter Jack were already deep in the mire hung heavily on her, but as Parker’s servants, they
would be suspect anyway. There was no shielding them.

If there was no other solution, she would follow in the steps of the King’s sister, Queen Mary. She would give the jewel in exchange for her lover’s life.

She hoped there was a better way.

She reached the antechamber to the Privy Chamber and realized with dread that she’d arrived at a bad time.

The King was not dining quietly in his rooms tonight, nor with the Queen. He was entertaining.

There was music, and Susanna saw that the flute player she knew from Ghent was still in the King’s service. As usual, he acknowledged her entrance with a high, sweet trill, lifting the flute up and tipping back his head.

The small display of friendship and solidarity from a fellow countryman helped. She breathed in and began to look for the King.

She heard the murmur of French and German, of her native Flemish and Dutch, as she slipped between the beautifully dressed men and women. There were wealthy merchants here tonight, as well as clergymen and nobles from the principalities of Europe.

Her heart sank.

This was not the time and place to speak with the King, but now was all she had. The thought of postponing her audience made her sick.

She could not wait.

“It is strange to see you about, my lady, without Parker scowling like a fierce hawk at your shoulder.” The words
were spoken lightly, with humor, and a hand touched her arm.

Susanna turned, and at the sight of Will Somers her panic lifted a little. The Fool was dressed all in black tonight, and her image of him as a quick-witted and humorous Death was made all the stronger.

She opened her mouth and then closed it again. Somers may be kind and wish her well, but anything she said was fair game to the King’s fool. There would be no keeping Parker’s disappearance a secret if he knew of it.

She frowned, weighing the benefits and drawbacks of Parker’s disappearance remaining a secret.

“I think you have decided the fate of mankind and put to rest the secrets of alchemy in these few short moments, my lady. Never have I seen a brain working so fast.”

“My pardon.” Susanna lowered her eyes and hoped she looked suitably demure. But when she lifted her head, Will Somers was watching her, his head tilted to the side.

“What is afoot, my lady?”

She shook her head, a twinge of regret in the movement. There was something about Somers that made her want to trust him, but not enough to risk Parker.

“I need to speak with the King, and did not realize he would be occupied this evening.”

A laugh rolled out from the center of the room, and Susanna stilled. The King was surrounded by men in fine velvet doublets, all taking care not to crowd him too much.

Susanna set her shoulders back and started forward. With
one long stride, Somers grabbed her shoulder and held her back.

“You’ll do more harm than good to approach him tonight. He is in a vicious mood. There is no news yet from the Emperor on a war with France, and he is impatient to move ahead.”

The King laughed again, and Susanna raised an eyebrow at Somers.

“He laughs, but darkness lies no deeper than the scratch of a fingernail beneath the surface. Before the dinner began, he sent Wolsey scurrying away when he tried to come forward with another complaint about Parker. It is the first time I’ve seen the King lose his temper with the Cardinal.”

Susanna gripped Somers’s long black sleeve. “What did Wolsey say about Parker?”

Somers shrugged. “Barely anything before the King went red in the face. A line about Parker conspiring with the French.”

Rage flashed through Susanna like a lightning strike. Every sense was alive and burning, her body ready for battle. If Wolsey had been nearby, she would have thrown the knife that was up her sleeve straight for his eye.

Somers stepped back. “You are no friend of the Cardinal tonight either, I see.” For the first time, there was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

She drew in her breath between clenched teeth. “I am no friend of his ever.”

She turned. If Somers was right, she would not approach
the King tonight. But now she knew where she could go. Wolsey’s complaints held the smack of preparation, of setting up Parker as a scapegoat.

And scapegoats were kept tethered to a pole, safely chained as they awaited their fate.

“Where are you going, my lady?” Somers’s soft call made her look over her shoulder.

“To find a pole.”

A wise prince ought to observe some such rules, and never in peaceful times stand idle, but increase his resources with industry in such a way that they may be available to him in adversity, so that if fortune chances it may find him prepared to resist her blows.

—Machiavelli
, The Prince,
chapter 14

B
efore she reached the door, a hand fell on her shoulder in a strong grip. A tight-knit group of Frenchmen closed in around her, shielding her from the rest of the room.

Susanna glared at the man holding her. She was tired of being manhandled. “You move quickly, Monsieur le Comte.” She tugged and he released her with a little dip of his head.

“No faster than you, madame. You wasted no time coming to the King.” The men around them were pretending not to listen, and he took her arm again to steer her to a little alcove in a private corner.

“I know you have heard of the argument between Wolsey and the King. In fact, I know to the precise moment when you did hear it. I saw your face,” he said.

“That must have been a blow to your plans.” She had damped down the rage she felt at Wolsey, but now it came roaring back to life. “Did you think somehow Wolsey’s accusations wouldn’t reach my ears?”

“We are not behind this.” The Comte slammed his fist into his open palm. “Madame, on my life, we did not lie to you tonight. We do not know where your betrothed is.”

“Then you must at least be pleased with what has happened tonight. Wolsey intends to give you the jewel, if he’s trying to lay blame on Parker in advance. Otherwise all he needs do is to return the jewel to its place.”

The Comte started, suddenly alert. “You do not know. Wolsey has told us very clearly he will not give us the Mirror of Naples.”

“Why not?”

“Because he does not know where it is.”

Susanna did not move. “How can that be?”

The Comte shrugged. “Because Jens of Antwerp panicked. That is the only explanation. I don’t think Wolsey told him exactly what he would be doing when he got to London.”

“And when he realized what it really was, he went a little … mad.” That would explain a great deal.

The Comte nodded. “When Jens fell out with Wolsey, the Cardinal denied him access to the palace. That is when Jens began running around London, approaching friends for a way out of the country.”

“Jean killed him.” She wanted to wash her skin where the
Comte had touched her; there was too much blood on his hands.

The Comte looked down his aquiline nose at her. “I understand your distrust of us. But we are willing to help you get what you want, if you help us get what we want.”

“You ask a great deal.”

He shrugged. “I have no choice. And you have no betrothed.”

“You know where the Mirror is? You seem so sure I can get it for you.”

“I have a good idea.”

“But you do not know where Parker is. Why shouldn’t I simply look without you?”

“Because Wolsey is a powerful man, and if he wants your betrothed hidden, hidden he will be. I have spies all through this city, men who hear many things. We have a better chance of finding him than you do.”

Susanna took a step back. “I will think on it a little longer. The stakes are very high to gamble on the strength of your guess.”

“Certainly.” The Comte gave a stiff bow; frustration and impatience shimmered off him with every jerky movement.

She dipped a curtsy and slipped through the crowd to the door.

Just as she stepped out, she felt the weight of a gaze on her and turned.

Norfolk stood in the middle of the room, watching her. The look in his eyes was not comforting.

T
he door swung shut behind her, and Susanna resisted the urge to lean back against it in relief to be out of the room.

She stepped forward, and found her way blocked by a young woman. She looked exotic, with a slight tilt to her dark eyes and thick, dark hair. She clasped her hands nervously before her.

Susanna remembered her face from the time she’d spent in the Queen’s chambers more than a month ago.

“My lady. The Queen wishes an audience.”

Susanna’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest. She already suspected the Queen had no love for her, and she would have even less if Susanna refused a direct summons.

“I am honored, my lady. But I have an urgent matter—”

“Please.” The woman’s eyes darted left and right, and she stepped closer, placed a hand on Susanna’s arm. “I am Gertrude Courtenay, Henry Courtenay’s wife.” She drew Susanna across to the shadows on the other side of the passageway.

A flicker of surprise went through Susanna. Henry Courtenay was one of the four men she and Parker had saved from being named as conspirators against the Crown in February.

“I know what my husband and I owe you. I am one of the Queen’s favorites. My mother is Spanish and my father is the Queen’s chamberlain. My aunt is one of the Queen’s closest friends. She came over to England with the Queen when she was first married to the King’s brother. I have some influence and I will use it to your benefit, but please, come.”

“I thank you for that.” Susanna hesitated, then took a small risk. “I truly would be honored to attend the Queen, but I find myself in a situation as bad as your husband was in last month. If I do not hurry, the ending will not be so happy for me.”

Gertrude stiffened, and her fingers dug in to Susanna’s arm. “I see. May I ask if there is any help I can give you in this?”

Susanna shook her head.

“Does this involve the Cardinal Wolsey?”

Susanna grabbed her, held her close. “Why do you ask that?”

“Because it is all over the court that not an hour ago, the King and Wolsey exchanged heated words over your betrothed. Usually the Cardinal only comes to court on Sundays, but since the King’s mishap in the country, he has remained at Bridewell. That in itself is worthy of note. But never before has the King lost his temper with Wolsey so openly.”

Susanna nodded. “Wolsey is involved.”