lords, among whom I espied the tall, white-bearded figure of Lord Howard, exchanged concerned looks. Did they actually fear an impromptu rescue?
Elizabeth was looking directly at us, her eyes like black punctures in her pinched face; she could not acknowledge the greeting. Under suspicion of treason, about to enter the very place from which few ever emerged, she mustn’t risk the accusation that she’d incited the mob. Yet even from a distance I could see how those cries moved her, how she gazed at us with heartrending intensity, as if she sought to engrave this sight in her memory as a talisman to carry with her during the ordeal yet to come. Her fear ebbed away; in its place, for the briefest of moments, like a glimpse of spring on a bare tree, she showed the strength that made her undeniably a Tudor.
I started to push forward, elbowing those around me. The people in front of me grumbled. Shelton chopped his hands at them; they took one look at his mutilated face and quickly shifted aside. All of a sudden, I found myself pressed against the barricade, peering past the row of guards. Howard had urged the princess forward. She took a step away from him, resisting. I yanked off my cap, heedless of the consequences, waving it as high above my head as I could. Everyone around me followed suit, whipping off their headgear-a flotilla of caps and veils and bonnets, swaying in the air like crude flags.
Elizabeth lifted her chin, searching; her gaze found me, wagging my cap as though everything in the world depended on it. For a fleeting second, our eyes met. They held.
She smiled.
* * *
We returned in silence to the Griffin. I couldn’t speak. I had stood there and felt tears slip down my cheeks as they led her under the gateway. Metallic hatred almost choked me; all I could think of was that Robert Dudley had finally won. They were together at last, locked in a web of his making. What his lust for her, and the power she represented, had failed to accomplish, his treachery had.
I wished him the worst. I hoped the queen took his head next.
She wouldn’t, though. She had told me as much. For now at least, the killing was done.
Mary Tudor had a wedding to plan.
Eventually Shelton broke the quiet. “Try not to worry, lad. If anyone can survive the Tower, it’s her. She’s old Henry’s daughter, that one. She won’t break easily.”
I swallowed. It was the height of irony that Elizabeth must now rely on the goodwill of a prince she’d never met, a stranger come to wed her sister-and all because of the revelations of his double agent, a woman of vengeful mystery who would forever haunt my dreams.
“What now?” Shelton asked. I hesitated. I hadn’t considered it. Since my arrival at court, I’d lived day by day, often hour by hour, never looking too far ahead. My future now stretched before me; exiled from court, with Peregrine gone, Elizabeth and Kate imprisoned, and my world in chaos, somehow I had to find a way to live. I had to prepare myself for the day when fate turned again in our favor.
“My horse and hers, and her dog, Urian,” I said. “They’re in the stables at Whitehall. I can’t leave them there. But if I go back, I’ll certainly be arrested. Even if I could get in unnoticed, I’ve nothing to bribe the grooms with.”
“Leave it to me. You forget I was the earl’s jack-of-all-trades. I can’t count the number of times I saw to Courtenay’s horse because he’d passed out in some den. Nan and I have some coin saved, too, enough to rescue the beasts.”
I nodded gratefully. “I promise to repay you, for everything.”
“No need,” he replied. “After all, it is I who owes you the debt.”
* * *
I stayed in the Griffin while Shelton went to Whitehall, after he retrieved a small purse from the parlor. Nan was not pleased, and I tried to make amends by assisting her and the urchin she’d taken in, who slept downstairs, to prepare the tavern for business.
“We’ve been closed days now, since Wyatt came,” she told me. “Time to get back to work.” She indicated a heap of stools. “Set those around the tables, if you please.”
As I proceed to wrestle with the stools, I thought that in Nan, Shelton had found the perfect companion. Her no-nonsense manner suited him, and it was obvious they cared for each other. Again I marveled at the irony of life, that a man I’d always seen as cold and distant, even heartless in his sense of duty, had proved to be anything but.
“You’ll not drag him back into all that court mess?” Nan abruptly asked. “He acts as if he’s a bull, and, compared to most, he is. But he’s had a rough time of it. He has pain still, in his legs. He can’t be running about, looking after naughty earls and the like.”
I managed to extricate the top stools without toppling the rest. “No,” I said. “I don’t expect so. Besides, there’s no court mess anymore, not for me. I’ve been banished.”
“Banished, were you?” She put her hands on her ample hips. “Well, now. What can a mite like you have done to piss off the queen?” She guffawed. “Count yourself fortunate, whatever it was. Court’s no place for a sane man these days. Her Majesty’s gone mad as a hare. She and her Spanish groom will be lighting the Smithfield pyres soon enough.”
She spoke carelessly, turning to blare at the urchin to sweep the ashes out the door, not into the corner, but her words sent a shiver through me. Was this how the common people of London felt about their queen? How had Mary strayed so far, so quickly, from the jubilation she’d earned at her accession? In her zeal to save her people’s souls and produce an heir to rule after her, she had alienated the one thing that no monarch who hoped to rule effectively could do without: the love of her subjects.
I sensed it was a lesson Elizabeth would never forget when her time came.
Chapter Twenty-four
Shelton returned by midafternoon, riding Cinnabar, Urian bounding beside him, spattered with mud from the road and leaping on me in excitement. As I petted him and endured his rapturous licks, Shelton told me he’d had a time of it getting the grooms to release the animals, though the overall chaos in the stables had helped.
“I had to empty my purse,” he said, with an apologetic look at Nan. “They’re getting ready to move to Hampton Court, so a few less animals were not to their disadvantage. But they wouldn’t let me near the princess’s Arabian. He’s well cared for; apparently Her Majesty has decided to give him as a gift to Philip when he arrives.”
“My lady’s not going to like that,” I muttered. I could imagine the roar when Elizabeth heard of it. Her rage would drown out the very lions in the Tower.
“The court leaves tomorrow,” Shelton added. “Whole pack of ’em, headed off to get the palace ready for Philip and his entourage. Have you thought of what you’re going to do next? I’m guessing you’ll not want to stay here and serve quail pie to sailors.”
“And why not?” demanded Nan. “It’s a respectable trade. Not to mention a tad safer, I’ll wager, than whatever it is he’s been up to.”
“Indeed,” I said, repressing my laughter. I felt lighter all of a sudden, witnessing this domestic squabble. It was a relief to see some people could actually be normal. “I’ll wager it would be. But I should leave London. I’m not a problem you need.” I looked at Shelton. “I have only one option.”
“Cecil,” he said.
I nodded. “Yes. He’ll be anxious for news, and he can hide me.”
The flush in Nan’s cheeks faded. “You’re not thinking of…?” she asked Shelton.
He cupped her chin, leaning over to kiss her. “Just for a little while, love. We can’t let the lad go off on his own, now can we? With his luck, he’s liable to end up in a ditch.”
I was about to remind him that I certainly would not. I was one and twenty years old, a man grown, who’d faced more perilous ventures than an expedition to the countryside. Then I sensed his intent and kept quiet.
A trip to Cecil’s manor was an opportunity we might never have again.
* * *
We departed the next day at dawn. It would be easier to evade unwanted inquiries, Shelton suggested,
