leading the horses. 'Well, where to now?' he said. 'Did the fine lady tell you anything new?'
'No. Whatever Marchamount is hiding, I think perhaps it is now time to leave the earl to pressure him.'
Barak grunted. 'You're seeing sense at last.'
Chapter Thirty-eight
WHEN WE REACHED HOME I felt faint again as I dismounted. I almost fell down in the yard. I leaned against the horse, taking deep breaths. Barak looked at me.
'You all right?'
'Yes,' I replied curtly. 'But I think I'll lie down for a while.'
'What about Marchamount? Shall I send word to the earl, get him brought in for questioning?'
'Yes. But to Cromwell's house, not the Tower. Being ordered there should be enough to make him talk and it will keep the matter privy.'
He nodded. 'I'll ride on to Whitehall, then. I'll be back later. Don't go out till I return, it may not be safe.'
I nodded and went indoors to ask Joan to get me some bread and cheese and a jug of beer. I took them up to my room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I put my hand on my brow and was relieved to find no sign of fever. My faintness must have been due to the strain of the last two weeks, coupled with constant chasing across London in this endless, burning heat. I would not let infirmity make a victim of me. Four more days and everything would be settled one way or another. And then – then I would see Lady Honor again, and next time I would not play the coward. All the questions surrounding her had been answered, yet still she wanted to know me. I had felt it, more strongly than ever on the bench; she cared for me as I did for her. Curse Barak for his interruption.
My burnt arm was stinging. I removed the bandage and applied some of Guy's oil to the red, puckered skin, shuddering as I remembered the flame licking at it.
I fell asleep at once and again slept for several hours, this time without dreams. I woke to find the air mercifully cooler, long shadows stealing across the garden. My head felt clearer and I lay thinking about what Barak had said about John Skelly, how it made sense. I had been angry with Skelly because I thought him careless, unworthy of the kindness I had shown him, while all the time – I thought of his tired red eyes looking up at me, and shook my head.
It occurred to me that perhaps his problem could be solved with spectacles. More and more people wore them, the king himself it was said. I could buy him a pair. I nodded happily at the thought of telling Barak that. Then I frowned. Why should I tell him anything? What did his good opinion matter to me? With luck our association would soon be over and I should have no more of his brutal crudity or inconstant moods. I smiled at the memory of how Lady Honor had spoken to him: few people could have put Barak in his place, yet she had.
His place. My conscience assailed me again as I remembered saying that if he worked for me I would have sacked him. Yet then I should have lost a man of brains and courage, for all his impudence, a man who had saved my life. And whom I needed to go down the Wentworths' well tonight.
I heaved myself up and descended the stairs. I
found Barak in the kitchen, washing the chain that held his mezuzah with vinegar. The little gold tablet itself lay on the kitchen table. He gave me a sharp look; he was still angry with me.
'Where's Joan?' I asked.
'Having a rest before preparing supper. Even servants need a rest,' he added pointedly.
I sat opposite him. 'I have been thinking about Skelly. I shall take him to Guy, see if there may be spectacles he can prescribe that may help his sight.'
Barak stared at me with his sharp eyes. 'Skelly wouldn't be able to afford spectacles.'
'I shall pay.'
He grunted. 'And if spectacles won't help him? Will you put him out?'
'I shall have to. God's death, Barak, I have to turn a profit. I'd see if there are any charitable foundations that could help him. Come, let's not quarrel.'
He grunted. 'Yes, you want me to go down that well tonight, don't you?'
'If you will.'
'I said I would.' He replaced the mezuzah round his neck.
'Did you get the message to Cromwell?'
'I left it with Grey. He made a tart comment about how I kept asking the earl to do things when it ought to be the other way round.'
I smiled. 'He's a sober old fellow. You probably rub him up the wrong way.'
'Like Lady Honor.' He gave me a direct look. 'But are you sure the lady is all she seems? Can you see her clearly?'
'I try to.' I frowned. 'Yes, I believe so. I think we can clear both her and the duke from our calculations: that was another wrong trail.' I studied him. 'Why do you dislike her, Barak?'
He shrugged. 'People with that much pride in rank bring bad luck to those around them. I've seen how these fine families spit and scratch at each other around the court. It is dangerous to get caught in her wake. But never mind that. So she is no longer a suspect. Nor, it seems, are Bealknap and Rich.'
'Not necessarily. We should wait and see what Cromwell says about them. I hope he can make Marchamount talk.'
'He can make anyone talk. He'll show him the rack if he won't cooperate.'
'Marchamount has courage under his pomposity. He's come far from nothing.'
Barak shrugged. 'If he's defiant he'll pay the consequences.'
We stopped talking as footsteps sounded on the stairs. Joan appeared and we went through to the parlour while she prepared supper. It was starting to get dark.
'Are you fit to go to the well after we have eaten?'
'Ay,' I said. 'I don't know what came over me earlier. Heat maybe, the strain of it all.' I looked at him. 'But I shall hold fast. Let us go tonight, then perhaps at least we shall have one thing solved.'
ONCE AGAIN WE WALKED UP Budge Row and down the dark little alley. A new lock had been put on the door to the orchard, but Barak broke it open as casually as before. We slipped through the trees to the Wentworths' wall. Again Barak made a stirrup of his hands and I climbed up, grasping the top of the wall, to take a look. I set my teeth as my back protested.
There was someone in the garden. I could see two dim figures walking there, one holding a lamp. There was a faint murmur of voices. It was Needler and Joseph's mother. I thought an old woman walking with a stick could easily slip in the gloom, then remembered that light or dark made no difference to her. I signed to Barak not to move and stood there uncomfortably, my foot in his hands and my arms on the wall. I lowered my head so that my pale face would be concealed and waited as the pair came closer. My dark hair, I was sure, would be invisible.
'She was screaming at me like the devil,' I caught Needler saying. 'I can't manage her any more. She's terrified under that pert exterior and so's Avice.'
The old woman sighed. 'I must tighten the girls' reins.' They were very close now, but I took the risk of raising my head and peeping at their faces. Needler's heavy features looked worried. The old woman's face, like a demon from a painting of hell in the flickering lamplight, wore a frown.
'We must help them, David-' she said, then stopped suddenly. She seemed to cock her head. I remembered the blind often have remarkable hearing.
'What is it?' Needler asked sharply.
'Nothing. A fox perhaps.' To my relief they turned and walked back to the house. I heard no more of what they said. A door shut in the distance and shortly afterwards lights were extinguished all over the house. I stumbled down again. Barak stood rubbing his hands.
'God's death,' he whispered, 'you've near dislocated my wrists.'
