Honor in the Dust (37 page)

Heather had not slept well since Stuart had returned. She had seen him only the one time when he came disguised as a leper, but her thoughts were constantly with him. There was a sadness in her, and those close to her saw it, but she would not reveal the reason to anyone.

It was three weeks after his return. There was a knock at the door. It was early morning, and she was making breakfast. Opening the door, she gasped, “Stuart, you're here!”

“Yes, I am.”

“Not in disguise?”

“No need for it. Not now, anyway. May I come in?”

“Why, of course. Can I make you something to eat?”

Ignoring her question, he seemed to be tongue-tied. “I—I must say something and you'll probably think I'm mad.”

“What is it? Are you in trouble?”

“I've been in trouble for a long time.” He hesitated and then
blurted out, “For years I thought I was in love with Nell Fenton.”

“You made it plain enough.”

“I did, didn't I? Well, I was a fool, Heather.”

“What's happened?”

“Oh, she married an old man for his money two years ago now.”

“I'm so sorry, Stuart.”

Suddenly Stuart straightened up, took her hand, and drew her to sit down on a small couch. “I've been delivering some Bibles, and I'm so pleased to be doing the Lord's work. But something else has come to me. It's about you, Heather.”

Heather's heart beat faster. “What is it?”

Stuart got up, came around, and pulled her to her feet. “For three weeks I've been wandering around, and do you know what's been on my heart?”

“Figuring out how to distribute your texts?”

“Well, yes, but more oft than nought, it's been you, dear girl! I thought about the first time I ever came here and you gave me cider. You were just a little girl then. As I grew up, I always thought of you as a little girl. Oh, I knew better, for I have eyes, haven't I? But I've been praying that God would give me wisdom, and I'm going to ask you one thing. Tell me the truth. Have you ever thought of me as a man you might marry?”

Heather's heart seemed to stop, and she cried out, “Oh, Stuart, of course I have—for years!”

“You have? Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because a woman can't tell a man that. She has to wait until he comes to his senses, and I thought you never would.”

He took her in his arms then, and she came to him. She was a woman in every respect, fully rounded, wise, sweet, and when his lips touched hers, he had a sense of coming into a harbor after a stormy voyage. When he lifted his head, he whispered, “You'll have me, then?”

“I would have had you years ago, Stuart. I've loved you since I was a child.”

He saw that tears were in her eyes. “I'll have to spend a lot of years making it right with you, but I love you as I love life. You understand I can't give up my work with Mr. Tyndale.”

“I know that. Perhaps I can help you.”

“Why, yes! Together we'll serve God, and we'll listen to him as he blesses us. Won't it be fun being married and having children! I'd like to have about eight myself.”

Heather laughed and blushed prettily. “Well, we're getting a bit of a late start, Master Winslow. I suppose that will be up to God.”

“You haven't done your job, Ives,” Wolsey said.

“I know. It's been difficult, Eminence, but I have an answer.”

“You'd better,” Wolsey said. “The king is in a mood to hang us all or chop our heads off. What's your scheme?”

“I have found out that Stuart Winslow's parents have been sending money to help Tyndale. I think they've been receiving Bibles too, though I haven't caught them at it.”

“Edmund Winslow doesn't care about Bibles.”

“No, he doesn't, but his brother does. I think we could smoke the Winslows out, and it won't be too hard to trace the books back to wherever Tyndale is hiding out.”

“What's your scheme?” Wolsey listened as Ives outlined his plan and nodded with grim satisfaction. “That's just wicked enough to suit me. See to it, Ives.”

Ives at once began to lay a trap. It was designed not just to catch William Tyndale. He was determined to incriminate Edmund Winslow. A smile came to his thin lips. “When he's out of the way, than I shall be the master of Stoneybrook!”

Edmund Winslow looked up as Ives walked into the room, accompanied by a man he had not met.

“Ives, welcome home,” he said, rising.

“There's your man, Snyder.”

“What are you talking about?” Edmund said. “Who is this?”

“My name is Aaron Snyder. You may have heard of me.” Snyder was a thin man with a hatchetlike face and a colorless smile. “I am chief investigator for the king.”

Edmund stared, and a shiver went through him. “State your business.”

“I've come to arrest you, sir.”

“Arrest me!” Edmund exclaimed. “What are you talking about?”

“Do your duty, Snyder,” Ives snapped. “Arrest him.”

“You're charged with treason. You and your brother have been receiving Bibles at Stoneybrook and distributing them.”

“That's—that's not so!”

“We have found them in your house.” Snyder held up a Bible and said, “This was found in your very chamber. It's one of William Tyndale's Bibles. It's treason to assist that man.”

Edmund moved his doleful gaze to his stepson. “Ives, tell him I could have nothing to do with this.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

Edmund's head went back, and his mouth dropped open. “Why, you planned this!”

“Certainly not. I merely reported what I saw. You, Claiborn, and Stuart will pay for your crimes. Arrest your man, Snyder.”

Snyder summoned two men. “Take him to the prisoners' wagon.” He said, “Shall we get his brother?”

“Oh, yes, that would be next in order.” Ives accompanied Snyder and was pleased to see that the same trap had been laid
for Claiborn Winslow. Bibles had been hidden in two corners by one of the servants, happy to accept his bribe.

Claiborn stared at Ives, his eyes burning. “So you're determined to have Stoneybrook.” Grace stood behind him, hand to her mouth. Her son Quentin stood beside her, his eyes watchful. Ives considered having her arrested as well but decided that she would be driven out of Stoneybrook easily when the time came. She could return to her aunt's land in Ireland. Or she could beg on the streets of London for all he cared. She was no threat.

“There'll be no accusations, Winslow. All will come to light at your trial. Come along,” Snyder said. “Join your brother. I'm sure you'll enjoy it in the Tower.”

The two men were led away in chains.

Ives went at once to his mother's apartment, where she was waiting.

“Is it over?”

“They'll be found guilty. The evidence is plain. All we need do now is catch Stuart in the act of smuggling and all three Winslows will be sacked.” He lifted his hands and laughed. “How does it feel to be the lady of Stoneybrook with no lord to watch your every move?”

“How does it feel to be the master of Stoneybrook?”

The two smiled at each other, and he said, “Does it pain you that they'll both be executed?”

“Let us not dwell on the past but review our future. Let's look over this new kingdom of ours!”

Vell, how do you like your husband, hah?”

Heather suddenly giggled. Ever since she had joined Stuart in Germany, she had blossomed. Stuart was carefully disguised as a fat Dutch merchant. He wore heavily puffed-out hose and a doublet that was swollen with padding. “You look awful!” Heather cried. “I'm glad you don't look like that all the time.”

“You don't understand my art,” Stuart said. His face was stiff with makeup. He had glued paper onto his cheeks to swell them out. He had donned a wig, which covered his auburn hair, and his face seemed to be older. He paraded up and down the room now, practicing the proper waddling walk for his character.

Heather took his hands. “I'm not going to kiss you good-bye, not with that mess on your face.” Suddenly a line of worry appeared over her eyebrows. “I wish you didn't have to go, Stuart.”

“Well, it may be the last shipment for some time.” Tyndale had had to flee to a nearby town and was in search of a new printer. “I'm taking all William has on hand here, clearing the decks. I promise you that when I return we'll have a lot of time together. I'll be the handsome fellow you married.”

“The handsome fellow I married certainly does not run over with humility!”

Stuart grinned, reached out, and grabbed her. He held her tight against the padding and teased her, saying, “You wouldn't really turn away from me if I was this fat, would you?”

Heather suddenly smiled. “Nay. And you'd love me, even if I were fat or ugly.”

“You're right, woman. We're stuck with each other.” He held her for a time, enjoying their last moments. “I must be off,” he whispered. He kissed her on the cheek.

Heather grasped his arm. “Return soon. There are two of us counting on it.”

Stuart blinked with surprise. “Two of us?”

Heather suddenly smiled a beatific smile that seemed to start somewhere in the depth of her spirit and shine out through her eyes. “Well, one of us won't be exactly present for at least six more months.”

Stuart blinked in confusion. “Six months—” He broke off and peered at her. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Yes. We're going to have a child. A boy, I trust, just like his father.”

Stuart picked Heather up and swung her around the room in a wild dance. “A son! What a wonderful present!”

“Put me down!”

“Oh, I'm sorry. I'll have to be careful with you from now on.”

“Yes, you will. You have to give me everything I want and stay with me constantly as soon as you return.”

“Is that customary with new fathers?”

“It is for my baby's father.” She touched his cheek and said, “I'm so glad you're pleased, Stuart.”

“Well, of course I am. Let's just hope he's as happy and witty and charming as his father.”

“Oh, you're impossible, but I hope so too.”

“I'll have something to think about on my journey.”