Lady Merry's Dashing Champion (10 page)

Meriel grimaced. "Why, from her betters, sir. Now tell me all I will need, or you can throw me to the river rats and be damned to your plans. I'll not die by Dutch hands for your need to keep secrets for your own glory." She held her breath, fearing she had gone too far.

But Chiffinch answered her demand in part, although he continued to refuse to tell her until the last minute how she would reach the Dutch fleet.

In the last two weeks, he explained, his hand tracing down a map of the Channel, a Dutch fleet of twenty ships had come against England's ships off the coast of Scotland, and captured valuable coal ships bound for London. Then just days later, they poured above four hundred shot into the Firth of Forth, doing little damage but showing their might and creating alarms.

"My spies in Scotland and in Holland tell me the Dutch are not finished, but will increase their fleet to as many as one hundred sail and move south," Chiffinch said, "laying-to off the Norfolk coast to gather information."

"But why do they risk their fleet when we are in peace negotiations at Breda? My maids are all abuzz with talk of it," Meriel asked, puzzled.

"The Hollander, Cornelis de Witt, might take such a risk to improve the Dutch bargaining position, indeed,
must
take the risk, for they want Suriname in South America and the return of their New Amsterdam colony in the Americas. And I suspect that he is planning some notable thing upon London to force us to give way to all the Dutch demands, else why would he want so much knowledge of our river defenses? We must assure him that we can repel any force with great loss to him."

"Can we?"

"You now know more than you need to know. I cannot risk that you would expose my plan under torture."

Meriel's stomach turned queasy as she stared at Chiffinch, who was growing more obviously uncomfortable at the questioning of a lowborn woman. "And I am the coun-terrisk you take? Cheap at that, and little loss to you if I fail."

Chiffinch shrugged. "Unfortunately for England, your highborn face provides us with our only chance. Now, enough of this prying chatter. We know that Lady Felice planned to meet de Witt in the Channel. He expects to see his spy in person and to receive cipher messages from her hand. We have the ones she prepared and have broken the cipher. We must substitute false messages telling the Dutch of overwhelming force ready to repel them in the Thames."

Meriel was near breathless. "And the messenger will be—"

"Lady Felice, of course ... our Lady Felice."

"What if there is much the countess has not revealed?"

"That is a problem. She has bargained for her life with the names of other agents, though she will not gain her freedom thereby."

"Nay, that is my problem—if they learn of her imprisonment and warn the Dutch."

"We hold a close watch and will take them all when you have finished this business," Chiffinch said. With another shrug, he added, "Or are finished by it." Although the words were harsh, his face told her he was reluctantly forming a respect for her ability.
Hey, well, not fast enough!

She stood and paced to the fire, since it had sprung to life again, holding out her hands, colder than they should be for May.

She was still standing there moments later when the door opened and she looked up to see Sir Edward Cheatham, wearing the uniform of an admiral. She cried out, unable to stop herself. She knew that she would never in this world be able to deceive Sir Edward.

As it was, she did not need to try.

"Meriel, my child," Sir Edward said, approaching with his arms spread wide. "I do most humbly beg your forgiveness," he whispered in her ear as he held her to his breast. "There was nothing I could do to save you from this."

Sir Edward gently led a shaky Meriel to a chair. Motioning Chiffinch away with the back of his hand, her old master sat near to her. He spoke in a low voice. "Nothing! Nothing I could say or do, Meriel. Your resemblance to Lady Felice was not to be denied or wasted and, believe me, I did not know. I had never met the countess." He blinked moist eyes. "And the good Lord forgive me twice. All unknowing, I had fit you for this task since the day I took you into my service. I gave you speech and manners, and knowledge of cipher and the sea. But your courage and beauty tied the knot, and these were not given by me but were ever your own."

Not quite speechless, Meriel began, "But, Sir Edward—"

He shook his head. "I will never forgive myself for the wound you had to bear, my brave girl. The little doctor did assure me that he has started your healing."

She laughed, her shock wearing away. "Was ever a spy so well-known?"

"Only to those who need to know. Meriel, hear me out before you rightly tell me that I have proved a poor master and false friend to you."

She held her tongue, for her old teacher was in obvious deep distress.

"England is in grave peril. From the moment I came to the Admiralty, I have had terrible news. The seamen of the fleet, now unpaid for months or paid only in worthless tickets, are close to mutiny. The Lord Treasurer is recently dead, and Parliament withholds monies from the king, fearing he will spend all on his mistresses and pleasures."

Chiffinch coughed. "Beware, sir, I am the king's most loyal servant."

Sir Edward raised his head. "As am I, but I am repeating what is commonly said on the streets, sir, in fear that rebellion is coming." He spoke brusquely, then continued in a kinder tone for Meriel. "The city is in shambles from the Great Fire. The Dutch, thinking us weak, grow bolder by the day. If they disgrace us in any way, the commons could rise up and the king lose his throne as in Cromwell's time. Anarchy would rule in the country once again." He gave up her hands that he had grasped, placing them gently in her lap, one over the other. He sat back, staring at her. His gaze pleaded for understanding and forgiveness.

"The children? Lady Judith?" Meriel asked.

"The children miss you, but are children and easily distracted. My lady misses you greatly, finding two maids not sufficient to the service you performed."

Meriel smiled at that. She was happy to have finished with such servitude, though serving the king seemed little better and far more dangerous. A thrown pillow or hairbrush was more quickly ducked than a cannonball or noose. But she said none of this because Sir Edward was sad enough, and she did not forget that she owed him affection and understanding for his many years of care.

Chiffinch growled, prowling the room. "Sir Edward, you give far too much knowledge to this lass. If you tell her more, she will think herself Jeanne d'Arc and bargain for half the gold in the treasury."

Meriel gathered her wits. "Little enough as Sir Edward tells it," she said, laughing at the idea of leading a cavalry charge in armor on a white horse, although she would avoid becoming a saint at the stake.
Hey, well, what is left but to laugh ?

Her life was fast turning to low farce that would play well in any tavern if luck held, or she could find herself dead, either by Chiffinch or the Dutch. "I'll ask for no more gold, Master Chiffinch," Meriel said, her chin up.

Chiffinch looked relieved but still wary.

"However, I will ask for one addition to our bargain now that you so blithely risk my life."

Chiffinch puffed his lips and glared at Sir Edward. "Did I not tell you?"

Meriel answered for herself. "Not gold coin, master Chiffinch, but something worth as much to a brave man. His reputation. My bargain is that Lord Giles suffer no public calumny for his wife's treachery no matter what happens to me. He is never to know Lady Felice is a traitor. No public execution at the Tower. No bloody details in the
London Gazette
to thrill the commoner in the street. No head on a pike at London Bridge."

Meriel took the deep breath she needed to continue, and stood to face the spymaster. "You fished a dead servant girl, one Meriel St. Thomas, from the Thames. When I am done with my work, whether successful or no, and if Lady Felice is yet to die, you must find her body identified by her dress and jewels in the same watery tomb. I leave it to you to recall how to accomplish the deed."

Chiffinch looked nonplussed. "You dare to dictate new terms. For a lord you do not know. A lord who hates his faithless wife, and would hate a lowborn wench such as you even more. If he discovered the ruse, he might murder you with his own hands, and suffer no punishment for it."

Meriel curtsied expertly, unable to be turned from her purpose. "Aye, that same lord, sir, who deserves better than he has received from his country's spymaster."

The spymaster blustered about the room, rolled some papers, tied them with ribbon and left, slamming the door and cutting the word "Agreed!" in two parts.

Sir Edward broke the silence. "You cannot trust him."

"I know."

"You are so much changed, Meriel."

"I will not see Lord Giles suffer more than he already has."

"You have formed a quick affection?" Sir Edward asked, worry writ plain in the question.

"Nay, sir," she said, sitting again before him, "I would but do him a ... a justice, since he has no fault in him." She knew this reason was not the total truth, but she was just beginning to know how far from full truth it was.

She smiled at Sir Edward because he was as trapped as she. "I am still the Meriel that you took to your service in the scullery and later raised to the upper floor and taught well." She smiled and winked impudently. "But as a countess, I may say exactly what I think to a spymaster, to an admiral and even, perhaps, to a king."

"Just so, your ladyship," Sir Edward said, bowing where he sat, "but that is not so much changed from before. I was speaking of a certain look. The way you hold yourself as if born to your station. I say nothing of the glow in your eyes that I've not seen afore."

Meriel looked away. Was her affection for Lord Giles so apparent? Would others see this glow and her masquerade be over? All Whitehall knew that Lady Felice betrayed Lord Giles at every turning. If Meriel could not match the countess's indifference, it would surely expose her to ...

"Attend me, for we have little time and must not be seen leaving this office together," Sir Edward said, unrolling dispatches. "This is the cipher used by the Dutch fleet with their London agents. Very simple, yet very clever. It is especially good for our purposes because you will not have to duplicate Lady Felice's unique handwriting with the new wooden pen that holds its own ink."

Meriel picked up a sheaf of papers. "But this looks like music, the same that Lady Judith used at her virginal."

"Aye, but the notes descending the staff represent letters in the alphabet, not all in strict order to add a complication. Only
K
and
Q
are omitted because they can be substituted with
C.
You must learn to read this cipher quickly and to write it, since Lady Felice will have had much experience."

Meriel bent over the manuscript and noticed that the vowels were placed on the lines and the letters
w, x, y, z
were extended below the staff. She could learn this cipher. All the hours spent with maritime codes and turning music pages for Lady Judith had not been wasted. Indeed, Meriel thought in some amazement, it seemed that everything she had learned in her life had been to school her for this moment. Was God's will at work here? Amusement rose inside her, so much that it reached her mouth.

"What amuses you, Meriel?" a puzzled Sir Edward asked.

"Perhaps the greatest jest of all, sir. I have to believe that God knows what he is doing."

Meriel returned to her apartments to find that Agnes had arrived to act as the Countess of Warborough's personal maid.

The maid dipped a curtsy. "It does please me to serve you again, your ladyship."

Meriel nodded. "Due consideration to my rank, m'girl."
Hey, well, now Chiffinch has a spy in my apartments and will not need to creep behind walls and disturb my sleep!

Although her other maids showed sour mouths to Meriel, she ignored them and ordered a bowl of sweet Portuguese wine for dipping bread. An invitation to dine with the king at the Banqueting House lay on her chess table, the sealing wax still warm. She had scarce time to change into a very pretty white taffeta gown with a pearl stomacher, its hem looped high to reveal a scarlet petticoat and a generous glimpse of ankle.

"Ah, my lady," Agnes said, tying her scarlet sleeve ribbons, "white does set off your black hair and high color most well indeed."

Meriel frowned, not satisfied, as ladies never were. "My hair does not shine as it should."

Two other maids rubbed it again vigorously with silk cloths and arranged the curls with thick sugar water. They would not move out of their coif in a North Sea gale.

Followed by Agnes carrying her train, Meriel left Whitehall by the Holbein Gate and walked down King Street to the Banqueting House, marveling at the beautiful building designed by Inigo Jones. In Sir Edward's library, she had studied this architect's book of draft plans for several of his noble structures, never dreaming that she would one day dine with a king in the most famous of all his public buildings.

Meriel waved Agnes away. "You may return to Whitehall," she said, and then in a whisper, "My eyes are happy to see you, Agnes."

Agnes smiled. "I will do your bidding in all things, nr lady."

"After Chiffinch's," Meriel whispered, an eyebrow cocked.

"But yours with greater pleasure."

Meriel watched Agnes retrace her steps, wondering if this was a friend or only a very clever spy for companion. 'Od's grace! It mattered not. Meriel felt less alone than she had for near a fortnight.

A young courtier escorted her into the hall to a seat near to the king and his dark, childlike Portuguese queen, Catherine of Braganza, seated amidst her pious ladies. Meriel curtsied very formally.

The king smiled a greeting, his mustache newly trimmed since she had left him with his swans and ducks. The Duke of Buckingham was serving the king and knelt, as was custom, to hold up a large platter for His Majesty's inspection.