In a Treacherous Court (21 page)

“Notice how they ran when the lights started coming on?” Simon had reached them, and she saw his surprise at their intimate embrace. He carefully blanked it away as Parker’s hand slid from her neck and gripped her ankle protectively. And did not let go.

“You think they were afraid we would recognize them? I could only see the eyes of my attacker; his face was covered against the cold.”

“Yes,” Simon said. “But there is more than one way to recognize a man.”

“Who was it?” Parker’s nostril’s flared, eager as a wolf with a fresh scent.

“Tom Fielder.” Simon smiled with dark satisfaction. “He didn’t expect me here, or he would not have worn the coat he won off me at one-and-thirty last week.”

“I can see why he would not wish to be recognized.” Parker blew out a cloudy breath in amazement. “This game becomes truly dangerous.”

Susanna couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. “You think it only
now
becomes dangerous?”

“However dangerous it was, that danger has just doubled.” Simon’s words were hushed, and he and Parker stood looking up the hill in the direction the attackers had run.

“Who is Tom Fielder, then?” Susanna asked. Whoever he was, he had given Simon a well-matched fight.

“He is a protégé of the Lord High Treasurer. He holds a high position at court.” Simon rubbed his arms.

“I trained the bastard myself.” Parker’s fists were curled tight. “Keep that ring safe on you, and not far from either Mistress Horenbout or myself. It seems we will need it.”

The Chiefe Conditions and Qualities in a Courtier:
To have the feate of drawing and peincting.

Of the Chief Conditions and Qualityes in a Waytyng Gentylwoman:
To be learned.

S
imon hefted the saddle pack onto the horse, then crouched to adjust the straps.

“Beware of Pettigrew,” Parker said, recalling Susanna’s outrage when they had worked out the physician’s role. Thinking of the hours she’d sat alone with him in the captain’s cabin awaiting Parker’s arrival, he realized the only thing that had kept her alive was Pettigrew’s need to maintain his cover. He would have been the only suspect had she come to harm. “Don’t be fooled by his age and countenance. He must be cold as stone to have done what he did without betraying himself.”

Simon nodded, straightened up. “At least I know my enemy, which is more than you.”

The way he said it made Parker’s gaze sharpen on his face. “What do you mean?”

Simon cast a quick glance at the barn door, and Parker knew he was making sure Susanna was still in the house. He waited a long moment, then shook his head. “Nothing. Just take care.”

“You think Susanna is a danger to me?”

“I only know you are not yourself. And it occurs to me, she had just as much opportunity in this as Pettigrew. More. Everything she has told you may be a lie.”

Parker clenched his fists. “Your theory would hold, had it been Susanna who gave me most of the information, but that is not the case. And she has had not a moment to conspire with anyone since leaving that ship. I have been at her side constantly.”

Simon turned to face him. “Forgive me. But before, you would have considered the possibility of her guilt. You would not have dismissed it out of hand. I say again, you are not yourself.”

“How am I not myself?” Parker spoke each word slowly.

“After the fight just now. You went to her, kissed her. In the street.” Simon shook his head as if he never thought to see such a thing.

Parker remembered the way his heart had pounded when he saw the two ruffians running straight for her, when he saw her face them and move the horse right at them. “When the one scooped something up and threw it …” He had to repress a shudder. “I thought it a rock.”

“I thought it a rock myself,” Simon conceded.

“If she were in league with these forces, would they be trying to kill her? Gripper told me himself she was the main target—I was just an extra bonus.” Parker grimaced.

“You are thinking with your … heart, Parker. Not your brain.”

“That is where you are wrong.” Parker kept his gaze on Simon’s face. “I have lived by my wits since my father died. And they have served me well. Every instinct tells me Susanna Horenbout is a treasure I should not let out of my grasp.”

Simon gave a rueful smile. “In truth, I hope you are right. I like her well. But how will you keep her, Parker? You need permission from the King to marry.”

Parker scowled. “Aye. And when this is done, I think he will concede I have more than earned the right to my own choice in a wife.”

Simon looked away. Parker knew well what he was too polite to voice: that the King was a fickle and volatile man. He could deny on a whim, with no reason.

“You are wrong about another thing.” Parker took the reins and began to lead Gawain from the stable. “I am more myself than I have ever been.”

“You will need to be.” Simon slipped his foot into a stirrup and swung up into the saddle. “If Tom Fielder is involved, it can only mean we are dealing with the head of the most noble family in England, bar the King.”

Y
ou saw Norfolk, yesterday on the steps.” Parker ground down azurite using a mortar and pestle for Susanna while she sat at his desk, finishing the designs on the King’s writs. He had felt the strength in her wrists, the tone of her arms, as
she’d rolled with him in her bed last night. Now he knew how she came by her power.

“The first man?” she asked, looking up. “The one who almost approached the coach?”

He nodded, and saw she shivered. “You did not care for his looks?”

“No. He looked cruel and self-serving.”

“Norfolk is those and more.” He tapped his lips. “Gripper told me that whoever was behind the attacks hated me personally. Offered a bonus for anyone who could kill me, as well as you. Norfolk should have sprung immediately to mind.”

“He hates you?”

“Despises me. Loathes me. I’m one of the King’s new men. I’m not a nobleman, yet I hold posts he thinks only a nobleman should hold. He would spit on me rather than talk to me. But as the Lord High Treasurer, he is forced to deal with me. As the Keeper of the Palace of Westminster, I keep the King’s personal accounts. And the King trusts me.” His relationship with Norfolk was cold and bitter, based on mutual contempt and acrimony. But he found no joy in the prospect of bringing Norfolk down.

“Why would he take such a risk? If the King suspects, surely he is as good as dead?”

Parker leaned back from his work, and realized there was a thin film of sweat on his brow from his efforts. “The King will behead him without mercy. But Norfolk’s method in this is pure genius. Trapping courtiers with letters from de la Pole, isolating them, and then setting them up for the King
to think
they
are the threat against him.” He shook his head in admiration. “It’s bold. Powerful. I had no idea Norfolk had it in him.”

“And we stand in his way.” Susanna’s voice was clear and quiet.

“Aye. He cannot risk the King learning courtiers like Bryan are dupes, not traitors. His plans rest on the King suspecting everyone.”

Parker picked up the pestle and began to grind again, pressing down and twisting as hard as he could. “He knows if the King sees shadows everywhere, the confusion will be incredible. And I have no doubt he’s been careful to have nothing to do with those he has led out like goats to slaughter.”

“But what of de la Pole?” Susanna set down her quill. “No matter whether Norfolk succeeds or not, surely de la Pole is coming with an army? Else why would Norfolk take the risk?”

Parker nodded slowly. “And we have no proof of that, no proof Norfolk is even involved, other than Tom Fielder attacking us. It is a strong reason to suspect, but by no means conclusive.”

“We could let the courtiers dangle in the noose of their own making, and see if Norfolk betrays himself.”

Parker looked up sharply, and saw that her face was set. She was thinking of Boleyn, he realized. Given Boleyn’s relationship with the King, she was most likely right. He’d bet gold Boleyn also had a letter from de la Pole on his conscience.

It was a tempting plan.

“We don’t know how widespread this is,” he said, and tipped the fine-ground blue powder from the mortar into a leather holder Susanna had given him. “Much though I’d love Boleyn to lose his head over this, there may be many caught in this trap. Would you have ten, twenty suffer to get at Boleyn?”

Her face was pensive, and there was no immediate denial on her lips. “If they were in that room last night when Boleyn dragged me out, I would feel little sympathy for them.”

He grinned. “I will never cross you, my lady. You are too fierce.”

She smiled back. Reluctantly at first, but he saw when her heart caught up with her lips. “It is poorly done of me?”

He shook his head. “You were attacked and insulted. You have the right to ill feeling. We could let the greedy bastards fall, but will it be the best course?”

“The King is my benefactor. If he prospers, I prosper. What is best for him?”

Shock straightened his spine. She spoke like a man. Like him. And why not? She was employed by the King. Parker wanted to say she had no need to worry about her own prosperity, that he would see to it himself. But without the King, everything that was his could be taken.

She had never said what she wanted from him. She had told him she would make a bad wife. She had been honest in her reasons for trying to seduce her blacksmith. But Parker wasn’t her blacksmith. And he didn’t think either of them wanted a mere dalliance.

Later. All this could be decided later. He took a deep breath.

“The sooner we bring this madness to an end, the better. Waiting will only give Norfolk more time to wreak his havoc.”

She nodded, stood, and shook out her shoulders. She had finished the intricate designs along the tops of the writs and had designed the complex-patterned first letters.

“Will it take you long to paint these?” he asked.

She looked at the pots of ground pigment he had made for her and smiled. “You have done well, apprentice. It will not take me long to finish.”

“But it must dry before you can return it to the King?” He stepped closer and drew her into his arms.

Her lips curved with sudden understanding, and he stared, fascinated, at her mouth. “It will take several hours to dry, even in a nice warm room like this.”

“Then paint quickly. I have an idea how to pass the drying time.” He couldn’t smile, couldn’t make it lighthearted. He needed her more than he needed food or drink.

She gazed into his eyes, serious, delightful. “Should we not be doing—”

He cut off her words with a kiss. “Our enemies are all around. We take each moment as our last.”

The Chiefe Conditions and Qualities in a Courtier:
To endevour himself to love, please and obey his Prince in honestye.

Of the Chief Conditions and Qualityes in a Waytyng Gentylwoman:
To have a sweetenesse in language and a good uttrance to entertein all kinde of men with communication woorth the hearing, honest, applyed to time and place and to the degree and disposition of the person which is her principall profession.