dangers. Splinters, for example, or tripping up over the bits of wood. I'm sure you would have been proud of your sailors. And their commanders.' There was the tiniest tightening round Cecil's eyes. Anger. Not amusement. Gresham leaned back, spoke in his normal tone. 'Oh, and several hundred Spanish fishing families will die this winter as we wiped out their boats, their livelihoods. And the contents of Cadiz harbour were emptied out of Spain's pocket and into those of Sir Francis Drake. And Her Majesty, of course.'
There was silence, for what seemed a very long time.
'That is all you have to report?' said Cecil finally.
'Well,' said Gresham, examining his fingernails, much torn by rope and canvas, 'that's all the important stuff. Oh, and Drake's so-called fleet is like a pack of mad hounds with no training, and he has as much control over them as a bear over the dogs that bait him. Not much else happened, actually. He refused to let me land ashore. It's surprisingly boring being at sea for three months. Oh, and someone planted false letters in my belongings making me out to be a spy for. Spain, and arranged to have them discovered,' he said casually, as if the thought had just struck him. 'Or, to put it bluntly, someone tried to kill me. By proxy, of course.'
'Kill you?' There was no tone in Cecil's question.
'Yes. Gives a new meaning to the pen being mightier than the sword, doesn't it? But we… spies don't bother much about that sort of thing. All in a day's work, you know. In fact we get quite upset if someone doesn't try to kill us.' Gresham beamed a broad smile at Cecil. 'Can I have some of that wine now?'
'Will you still be flippant in the grave?' asked Cecil. His tone was still measured, easy, conversational.
'Well, I doubt I'll be flippant after it,' Gresham answered. 'But I'm quite keen to know who it is who's trying to send me there.'
The silence stretched to an eternity. Cecil did not move. Even with support from the high back it must hurt him to sit so still, thought Gresham. If that was so, he was hiding his pain as well as he was hiding his feelings.
'I know nothing of these matters,' he said finally.
'Quite so,' said Gresham easily. 'Though I'm forced to point out that whoever is responsible went to extraordinary lengths to cover their tracks, and so is hardly likely to admit to the fact in open conversation.'
'You show your lack of breeding by coming to a gentleman's house and accusing him, without evidence, of murder,' said Cecil carefully.
‘You show your lack of judgement by insulting a man in a manner that gives him the right to challenge you to a duel. A duel you would lose,' said Gresham flatly. 'So your comments have handed me either your life, or your honour.' Cecil realised the mistake he had made. No member of the Court would challenge Gresham's right to challenge Cecil after the comment he had made. He would lose his life if he fought Gresham, and lose his honour if he refused to fight. 'Luckily for you,' said Gresham, 'this would probably be a bad time for me to kill the son of the Queen's Chief Secretary. Or dishonour him.' If Cecil was relieved, he did not show it.
Damn! Gresham had to play this so carefully. Cecil was as attractive to him as rotten meat, but he was a prime contender for the new power in the land, could well become the leader of the pack after the death of Walsingham and his father. In the world of politics, it should be almost irrelevant to Gresham if Cecil had indeed tried to kill him. What mattered was that Gresham found out why, and that he was stopped from doing it again. With those two key facts in place, an alliance between the two men was perfectly possible. Half of the Court had tried to harm the other half at one time or another. It was part of the game they played. But still Gresham was no closer to knowing the true identity of his enemy. And if the truth be known he had come to Cecil, of all the suspects, not because he was foremost in Gresham's suspicions but simply because of all the suspects Cecil was the only one he could approach. Burghley, the Queen, Essex and Leicester's servants would provide a far greater barrier than the Cecil's relatively modest household.
The pain finally scored a small victory over Cecil. He shifted, and his lips tightened over his thin mouth.
It was time to get serious. Even if Cecil was his would-be murderer Gresham would not find out tonight. Ail he could do was plant snares, blocks, so that if he was the culprit he would pause before trying again. Like the poacher, Gresham had to set his traps over a wide ground, wherever the animals might tread. Yet he was now the hunted, not the hunter. 'We live in complex times, Master Cecil,' said Gresham.
'How so?' There was the tiniest hint of a sneer in Cecil's voice.
'You are a man in the midst of making, or breaking, your career. Your main rival for the Queen's favours is the Earl of Essex. Beauty and the Beast, in fact.' Cecil stiffened at that, but said nothing. 'Or more accurately, ancient breeding versus self-made man. You see, for all your father's power and wealth, you have no noble ancestry.'
Why did Cecil bridle at that? Gresham stored away the weakness for possible future use.
'I make no insinuations,' said Gresham, 'against the son of the Queen's Chief Minister. Perish the traitorous thought! Why men have been killed for less.. not that that was an insinuation, of course. Merely a slip of the tongue. But I do have one more thing to mention, in passing, as it were.'
'And what is that?'
'Your illustrious father is out of favour because he is seen as having expedited the signing and the sending of the death warrant of Mary Queen of Scots. The Queen is claiming her ministers acted without her authority.'
'Gossip,' said Cecil easily. 'Idle Court gossip. If you had-attended Court more, you would learn how to treat such tittle-tattle.'
'I'm so glad it's just that,' said Gresham, sounding relieved. 'You're obviously secure in your power and influence. Me? I have someone trying to kill me, someone who doesn't want me to know who they are. So I need a little insurance on my life. And from a number of people, until I identify my real enemies. We're two very different people. I've have no dependants, no family as such, no one to cry for my death.'
'How sad,' said Cecil, with earth-shattering insincerity. I suspect that even this early in my career there are many who would cheer up dramatically if I were to die,' said Cecil, with a dry humour that was the nearest he ever got to laughing. *You miss the point,' said Gresham. 'I'm not interested in who would cry if you died. I am interested in who you would cry for if they died. I'm in love with only myself. That's my strength. They tell me you are in love with someone else. That's your weakness. If I determine that you attempted to kill the person I most love — me — I will activate my insurance, and the person you most love will die.'
'You have a window into my soul, do you, Henry Gresham?' asked Cecil mockingly.
'No, but perhaps the beautiful Elizabeth Brooke has one.'
Cecil shot to his feet, and the candles all round the room flickered as if in anger.
'How dare you?' Cecil roared, There was a scurrying at the door, and the two servants appeared, bursting in and halting only when Cecil raised his hand.
Cecil could have tried to kill me then and there, thought Gresham. Outnumbered three to one, disadvantaged by being seated, a quick thrust of a dagger and a lifeless bundle in a weighted sack thrown to join the other bodies in the Thames that night. He could see the thought passing through Cecil's brain. 'You don't know what arrangements I have in place should I not return from this house. It'd be gratifying to kill me. It wouldn't be intelligent,' he warned Cecil.
Cecil motioned the men away with his hand.
He was terrified of women, fearing their scorn of his body. Elizabeth Brooke was the daughter of Lord Cobham and would bring him social respectability as well as a dowry of two thousand pounds. It was also said, extraordinarily, that Elizabeth was both a lovely girl and one who felt some love at least for Cecil. There was no accounting for women.
'As I said, attachments such as this are a weakness of yours. My lack of attachments is my strength. No harm need come to the woman you love. All that's required is that you are proven to have done no harm to me, and attempt no such harm in the future.'
'I do not respond to threats,' said Cecil with acid in his voice. 'And what is most certain, above all other certainties, is that those who threaten me need look first to the threat to their own lives.'
'Wonderful!' said Gresham, suddenly infinitely relaxed. 'Marvellous! You realise what's happened of courser Cecil did not realise, clearly. He was wrong-footed by the ebullient cheerfulness of Gresham's tone, confused. 'We've acknowledged that we're enemies. At last the slimy protocol of Court has been replaced by some real human feeling. My desire to kill your fiancee if you're the person seeking to kill me. Your desire really to kill me if I make that threat.'
'If my reaction to our relatively brief acquaintance is any guide, there must be many who wish you ill, Henry Gresham,' said Cecil.
