She turned a face to me that was utterly weary. 'Yes, all power is with the House of Tudor now. Yet is it not hard to take seriously, the king as head of the Church deciding how his people should relate to God, when his policy is ruled by his fickle passions?'
She spoke softly, but nonetheless I glanced back nervously at her servants. She smiled ruefully. 'I have been accompanied everywhere by servants since I was a baby. I know how to pitch my voice so they cannot hear.'
'That is still dangerous talk, Lady Honor.'
'It's the talk of the streets. But you are right, these days we have to be careful what we say.'
We walked on for a little in silence. 'It is not easy always having servants around one,' she said suddenly. 'Often I wish them far away. I remember once when I was a little girl my mother took me to the roof of our house. She showed me all the fields and woods, stretching away in every direction. She said, 'They are ours, Honor, as far as you can see, and once our family owned the country all the way to Nottingham.' It was a windy spring day, she held my hand as we stood on the flat leads. Her ladies and my governess were there with their dresses billowing in the wind and all at once I wished I could fly away over those woods and fields, alone, like a bird.' She shook her head sadly. 'But we are bound to the earth, are we not? We are not birds. We have responsibilities. Mine is my family.'
'I am sorry I pressed you again, but-'
'No more, Matthew, I am weary.'
'Perhaps we should return to the baiting-'
She shook her head. 'No, I cannot face it. Would you walk with me a little further, to the next river stairs? I will send a servant back to say I have been taken faint.' She screwed up her eyes as the cloud passed and the hot sun appeared again, bringing sparkling waves of silver to the brown Thames water.
We walked on slowly. I felt a boor for constantly pressing her thus. But I had to; my feelings, and hers, were unimportant. A large barge, full of building materials, passed us on the way to Whitehall and for a moment I imagined it ablaze from end to end, the water around it on fire.
'Perhaps you think my devotion to family foolish,' she said, interrupting my grim thoughts.
'Not foolish. Single-minded, perhaps.'
'Were not things better when the aristocracy owned the lands rather than it being turned over to these new men who put it to pasture and throw the peasantry on the road? Sheep eat men, they say.'
'Ay, and it is a great abuse. But I would not have learning and the chance to rise denied the common people.'
She shook her head though she smiled. 'I think you consider me innocent in some ways.' Jesu, I thought, how sharp she is. 'But I venture to say you are the innocent one. For every man who comes to town and manages to rise from the common herd there are a hundred, a thousand, who starve in the gutters.'
'Then measures should be taken for their welfare.'
'That will never happen. The lawyers and merchants in parliament will never allow it. Is that no so? They have put down all the reforms Cromwell had brought before them.'
I hesitated. 'Yes.'
'So much for your new man.'
I shook my head. 'Lady Honor, I think you are the cleverest woman I have met for a long time.'
'You are not used to bright converse from women, that is all.' She smiled at me. 'I think, Matthew, we disagree about the right ordering of society. Well, that is good, disagreement adds flavour to discourse. And I am glad you have known other women who were not content to drop their eyes and talk of cooking and embroidery.'
'I knew one.' I paused, fingering my mourning ring. 'I wished to marry her, but she died.'
'I am sorry,' she said. 'I know what it is like to lose a loved one. Is that ring for her?'
'Kate was engaged to another by then.' How Lady Honor could make me speak from the heart, of things I told few others.
'That is doubly sad. Did you not press your suit then?' Again, her directness was hardly good manners, but I did not mind.
'I did not. I was afraid she would not have me.'
'Because of your – your condition?' Even Lady Honor struggled for a moment to find the appropriate word.
'Ay.' I looked away, across the river.
'You are a fool to worry about that. You will waste your opportunities.'
'Perhaps.' I stepped aside to let a young couple pass, their pet dog gambolling at their heels. Even as her words warmed me I told myself: be careful.
'Perhaps you think all women seek in a man is a tall carriage and a fine calf,' she said.
'Those do not harm a man's prospects.'
'They are no help if he has coarse features or a poor wit. My husband was near twenty years older than me when we married. Yet we were happy. Happy.'
'Perhaps I should leave off this ring,' I said. 'I confess I think of Kate seldom now.'
'Mourning can become a fetter.' She gave me a direct look. 'When Harcourt died I decided I would not let it bind me. He would not have wanted that.'
I saw we had reached Barge House Stairs. A wherry stood there, waiting for business. 'Shall we cross here?' I asked. 'My horse is down by Three Cranes Wharf, we could return there.'
'Very well. A moment – I must send Paul back with a message or Gabriel Marchamount will think I have been robbed.' She walked over to where her servants and ladies stood, and spoke to the men.
Then I turned and saw Sabine and Avice Wentworth standing on the path in their bright summer dresses, their blue eyes startlingly wide, no doubt from nightshade potion. Their grandmother stood between them, her arms linked with theirs, still in her black mourning dress. The girls stood stock-still, looking at me. Their quality of wary, watchful stillness was unnerving.
'What is it, girls?' the old woman asked sharply. Her face was white and papery in the daylight, more like a skull than ever with those withered eye sockets.
'It is Master Shardlake, Grandam,' Sabine said soothingly.
I bowed quickly. The old woman stood still a moment longer, as though sniffing the air. Then her face set. 'I had hoped to hear your enquiries were done, sir. I still wear mourning for my grandson, as you see. I will not come out of it until justice is done to his murderer.' She spoke calmly, looking straight ahead. Lady Honor returned to my side and looked at the Wentworths enquiringly. One of her servants was trotting back to the bear pit.
'You must excuse me, Goodwife Wentworth,' I said. 'I have a lady present.'
'A lady? You? The crookback lawyer?'
'You are hardly one to mock the deformities of others, woman.' Lady Honor spoke sharply.
Goodwife Wentworth turned her head towards the strange voice. 'My deformities came with age,' she snapped back, 'as they will come to you in time. The lawyer's deformity is one he was born with and such things speak of an evil nature.'
'She should be put in the river for speaking so,' Lady Honor said hotly.
The old beldame smiled. 'On, Sabine,' she said. The girls led her on, heads down, but I caught a smile on the older girl's face. I stood looking after them, breathing heavily.
'Who was that beldame?' Lady Honor asked. 'She has a face from a nightmare.'
'Sir Edwin Wentworth's mother.'
'Ah. And the girls would be his daughters.'
'Yes. Thank you for defending me, but there was no need. People say such things.'
'Because they discern it is the way to hurt you.' She looked genuinely annoyed. Frowning, she picked up her skirts and began descending the steps.
In the boat the attendant ladies, one on either side of Lady Honor, cast curious glances at me from under lowered eyelids. They had seen everything. I avoided their gaze. The tide was going out and there was an unpleasant smell now from the rubbish-strewn mud at the river's edge.
Lady Honor turned to one of her ladies, who was trailing a hand in the water. 'Mind out, Lettice, there's a great turd there.' The girl pulled out her hand with a squeal. Lady Honor shook her head slightly at her foolishness. For all she had said she would like to be free of servants it struck me that to be attended everywhere, all your life, by retainers and servants, must make one feel a sort of earthly divinity. No wonder she had such family pride.
The boat bumped into the mud at Three Cranes Wharf. Lady Honor raised her eyebrows and smiled wryly.
