He reached for the bottle and refilled her cup. “For they are conspirators, Alys. I went down the tunnel and found a hidden cellar, containing an arsenal large enough to destroy Whitehall and all the people in it. I’m sure the plotters have only been waiting to get the household out of the way by sending you to Norfolk before they move in and transfer the weapons to London. I suspect they’ll be smuggled into the palace to await the queen’s return from her summer progress. I’ve sent a dispatch to Walsingham to find the contacts our friends are using in town, for the blackguards must know the palace well, and may be dangerously close to the queen. Tomorrow, I’ll send another dispatch to tell Walsingham what I’ve found—my action tonight should have bought him some time.”
He took a deep draught from the wine bottle, watching Alys’ expression. He had just trusted her with everything he knew—his life, and the lives of many others now depended on her being the person he thought she was.
“Now you see what I’ve been gambling with. Do you understand that with such high stakes, I must take risks and make hard choices? My only regret is that I’ve brought danger to your door. I dearly wish things were otherwise.”
She took another gulp of wine. He was pleased to see the roses returning to her cheeks. “And are you certain it is only Kate, Kirlham and Avery who know? And can you be sure no one else has used the place without their knowledge?”
“Sweetheart, you saw their faces tonight after I ruined their plans for them. I tell you, all three are deeply implicated. And I must advise you to leave here as soon as you possibly can. I’ll make arrangements for you to be taken to a place of safety until the matter has been resolved. I’ve stirred up the hornet’s nest—they will be eager to sting.”
He felt a tremor run through her body. “Oh, Kit, I confess I’m a little frightened.” Hardly surprising. But he knew she had courage. That, combined with her cleverness, would help her through her troubles. He’d do what he could, of course.
“Come.” He held out an arm, and she shifted around to nestle against his side. He liked the feel of her there—more than he ought under such perilous circumstances. He prayed she’d come to no harm through his actions—it would destroy him.
Rubbing his cheek against the silken cloud of her hair, he said, “On the morrow, keep to your room until late. Complain of a headache or some such thing. In the meantime, pack up anything you value. Take the fastest horse in the stable and ride to the field gate where we stood after you’d spoken to the cunningman. I’ll meet you there at noon. Take no risks. I shall make arrangements to have you out of here before the next sunset.”
“The roads will be difficult after the rain.”
“Then we’ll take to the fields. As soon as you are away and safe, Walsingham can send in the soldiers.” Just as soon as he’d sent him word, which he must do ere cockcrow on the morrow.
He yawned, and leaned back against the wall, bringing Alys with him. “Strange how a man can feel tired enough to sleep, even when his life may be in imminent danger. I wonder how long it will take my clothes to dry enough for me to return to my bed.”
Alys sat silent, and he wondered if she’d drifted off. He took the wine cup from her drooping hand. “No more for you tonight, my little dove. Methinks the weariness has caught up with you, too.”
Nodding sleepily, she snuggled up more, her head lolling against his shoulder. He swept her hair gently back from her face, then leaned down and brushed a feather-soft kiss across her wine-moist lips. She sighed, a soft breath that fanned across his bared chest and made the muscles tense in anticipation. He kissed her again, more slowly, his tongue licking the sweet wine traces from her lips. Oh, she was beautiful to him, her rich, dark hair hanging over her shoulders, and running like silk through his fingers. As he feasted his eyes on her, the blue-grey eyes closed, and her breathing slowed. He felt her grow heavy against him, and smiled ruefully—women didn’t normally fall asleep when he kissed them. But this was no ordinary woman.
He laid her down on the bed and pulled the covers over her, then sat at the foot of the bed. He’d stay while he finished his wine, then get dressed and go.
The rain had settled to a soporific thrumming on the tiles above—the thunder had long since rumbled off into the distance, taking the searing lightning with it. He gazed towards the window and the darkness beyond, listening to the steady drip of water from the eaves.
His shoulders ached from the exertions of the day. It would be so comforting to slide down onto the bed, just for a moment, and relax his back. Slowly, so as not to disturb the sleeping woman, he stretched himself out full-length upon the bed, in the space between her body and the wall.
Idly, he wondered what had become of the key. No matter—it must be amongst the bedclothes somewhere. He’d find it when it was time to go. Resting a hand atop Alys’ slumbering body, he smiled, then closed his eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Alys woke up feeling stifled, a weight across her body. Only half-conscious, she opened her eyes to see the room shrouded in a dim grey light.
