Lamentation (The Shardlake Series Book 6) (54 page)

I looked them over, remembering what Paget and the Queen had said about the jewels ordered for her, the new clothes for the Queen’s ladies. Even so, my eyes widened at the scale of what was planned. The admiral was to sail up the Thames on the 20th of August with a dozen galleys. The King’s ships, which had met those galleys in battle exactly a year before, were to be lined up along the Thames from Gravesend to Deptford to welcome him. He would be received by the King at Greenwich, then next day go upriver to the Tower of London, before riding through the streets of the city. During this procession the London aldermen and guildsmen – and others including senior lawyers from the Inns of Court – would line the streets to cheer him, all in their best robes. I closed my eyes for a moment and remembered standing on the deck of the
Mary Rose
a year before, watching as those same French galleys fired at our fleet.

‘Quite something, is it not?’ Rowland said. Even he sounded a little awed.

‘It is, Master Treasurer.’

I read on. The admiral would stay in London two days, riding to Hampton Court on the 23rd. On the way to Hampton Court he would be welcomed by Prince Edward, lords and gentlemen and a thousand horses. Next day he would dine with the King and Queen and there would be enormous festivities at Hampton Court. Again my presence would be required, as one of the hundreds in the background.

I put down the papers. ‘It is all about impressing him, I see.’

‘Great ceremonial was ever the King’s way. All you will be required to do is stand around like scenery, richly garbed. Have you a gold chain for such ceremonies?’

‘No.’

‘Then get one, before they are all sold out.’

‘I will be ready.’

‘Good,’ Rowland said. ‘And I will write to Mistress Slanning.’ He made a note, then looked up at me and spoke wearily. ‘Try to keep out of trouble, Serjeant Shardlake.’

D
ESPITE
R
OWLAND
’
S WARNING
, that afternoon I fetched Genesis from my house, rode up to Gray’s Inn and asked for Philip Coleswyn’s chambers. His outer office, which he shared with another barrister, was neatly organized – it made me realize that my own chambers were starting to look a mess. I was shown into Coleswyn’s office, which again was immaculate, all the papers filed neatly in pigeonholes. He laid down his quill and stood to greet me.

‘Brother Shardlake. This is an unexpected pleasure. So Mistress Slanning has dismissed you. I had a note this morning from her new representative, Brother Vincent Dyrick.’

‘Yes.’ I raised my eyebrows. ‘I know Dyrick.’

‘So do I, by repute.’ He sighed. ‘His letter said Mistress Slanning plans to raise in court the nonsense about us and her brother conspiring with Master Adam, because we are all heretics. He said she has also made a complaint about you to Lincoln’s Inn.’

‘I had a meeting with the Treasurer this morning about that. I came to reassure you he recognizes the complaint for the foolery it is. But also to warn you about Dyrick: he is persistent, and unscrupulous.’

‘I think perhaps Brother Dyrick hopes that by airing these allegations of a heretic conspiracy he will frighten me, and perhaps Master Cotterstoke, into coming to a settlement.’ Philip shook his head. ‘But we both know nothing on this earth will bring those two to settle.’

‘Treasurer Rowland ordered me to steer clear of the business, particularly since I am to play a small part in the ceremonial welcoming the French admiral next month.’

‘Then I thank you all the more for coming to see me. I spoke to Edward Cotterstoke about these latest allegations yesterday. He will not shift an inch. In fact he lost his temper when I told him of his sister’s latest ploy. He said a strange thing: that if the worst came to the worst, he knew things that could destroy her.’

‘What did he mean?’

‘Heaven knows. He said it in anger, and refused to elaborate. Insisted it was nothing to do with the case and quickly changed the subject.’

‘And Isabel once said her brother had done terrible things. What is it with those two, that they hate each other so?’

‘I do not know,’ Coleswyn said. He shook his head again.

‘You remember the old family servant, Vowell, who became upset by their behaviour at the inspection. Is he still taking care of the house?’

‘Yes. But Master Shardlake, you should do as your Treasurer advises, and leave the matter alone now.’

‘But I will still be involved, if this conspiracy allegation comes up in court. I am named.’

‘You are not a radical reformer. You have nothing to fear.’

‘Do you?’ I asked bluntly.

He did not answer, and I continued. ‘Isabel Slanning will make whatever trouble she can. What if she asks you, through Dyrick, to swear in court that the Mass transforms the bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ?’

‘I doubt the court would allow it.’

‘But if they do?’

Coleswyn bit his lip. ‘I am not sure I could do that.’

‘That is what I feared,’ I said quietly. ‘I beg you to think carefully, Philip. That would be an admission of heresy. Think what could happen not just to you, but to your wife and children. To all those associated with you. Even me.’

His face worked. ‘Do you think I have not already considered that, agonized over it? I pray constantly, trying to seek out God’s will for me.’

I looked at his honest, troubled face. I realized that Philip Coleswyn was a man who, despite his qualities, might put others at risk to save – as he saw it – his soul. I spoke quietly, ‘Think what God’s will may be for the rest of us as well.’

I
HEARD NOTHING FURTHER
from Stice that day, nor the one following. Little George’s party was early that evening. The weather had changed; it was cooler and clouds were coming slowly in from the west. The farmers could do with the rain as harvest approached, but I knew Tamasin hoped to have the party in her garden.

I arrived shortly after four. It was still dry, but the sky was growing slowly darker. The little house was spotless, the table in the parlour covered in a white linen cloth on which stood flagons of beer and, I saw, some wine. Pewter mugs had been laid out. Outside in the tidy little garden another table was set with sweetmeats. About fifteen men and women, mostly in their thirties, stood there talking, all in their best finery; neighbours and clerks and solicitors from Lincoln’s Inn and their wives. Sadly, no family was present, for Tamasin’s father had abandoned her as a child and her mother was dead. And I remembered what Barak had told me about meeting his own mother in the street; he had not mentioned it again. I saw Guy, standing a little apart nursing a mug of beer.

Barak and Jane Marris were waiting on the guests, taking flagons to and fro to ensure mugs were kept full, Barak looking a little uneasy in this unfamiliar role. Nicholas was there in his best bright doublet, his fading bruises attracting looks from some of the guests. Tamasin stood with George in her arms, the baby in a white robe and bonnet, holding him out for guests to come and admire. They congratulated her, too, on her pregnancy, which had evidently been already announced. She herself wore her best dress of yellow silk. I filled a mug with beer and went outside. Tamasin smiled at me and held out a welcoming hand.

‘Master Shardlake.’ She addressed me formally. ‘My friends,’ she said proudly, ‘this is my husband’s master, a serjeant of the King’s courts.’ I reddened as everyone looked at me. Fond as I was of Tamasin, the touch of snobbery in her nature could be embarrassing. Behind her I saw Barak nudge Nicholas and wink. I bent low over George, who stared at me with blank eyes. ‘A happy birthday, little fellow.’ I touched his plump cheek.

‘Thank you for coming,’ Tamasin said quietly. ‘And for all you have done for us over the years.’

‘How are you now?’ I asked. ‘Feeling better?’

‘Yes. In good health and spirits.’ She looked round, smiling contentedly. ‘Our little party goes well.’ My conscience pricked at the thought of how Barak and I were deceiving her. I said, ‘I should go and speak to Guy, he is on his own.’

‘A good idea.’

I went over to my old friend. ‘Well, Matthew.’ I noted the neutrality of his tone.

‘Tamasin says she is feeling better.’

‘Yes, everything is going as it should. And how are things with you?’ His look was sharp.

‘Well enough.’

‘Jack’s hand is healed. And the boy’s chest wound. As well they did not get infected.’

‘I know.’

He asked quietly, ‘That business which led to their injuries. Is it settled?’ I hesitated. I did not want to lie to him. ‘I guessed as much,’ he said quietly. ‘Something in Jack’s manner. I have been observing people carefully for forty years, it is part of my trade. I think Tamasin suspected something when he was hurt, though she appears settled now. But she is expecting a child, Matthew, and lost one before. If anything should happen to Jack—’

‘Guy,’ I spoke with sudden heat, ‘sometimes one takes on duties, swears oaths, and sometimes, to do what one is sworn to, one needs – help.’

‘Matthew, I know of only one loyalty you have which would let you place yourself – and others – in danger. I thought the Queen had manoeuvred herself out of the trouble she got herself into earlier, but perhaps I am wrong. Well, hers is not my cause. I agree, one must fulfil a debt of honour. But when others are dragged in, one should think also of them.’

‘Guy– ’

‘I worry for my patient.’

I felt something on my hand, and looked down to see a fat splash of water. More heavy drops were falling from the grey sky. Barak said, ‘Indoors, everybody. Come, wife, get George inside.’

We all went in as the rain turned to a downpour, some of the women helping Jane rescue the sweetmeats before they got soaked. When we were in the parlour I looked around for Guy, but he had gone.

Chapter Thirty-two

I
STAYED ONLY A LITTLE LONGER
. Outside, the rain pattered down relentlessly, then the thunder came. Guy’s departure had been noted. I told Tamasin he had said he was feeling unwell. I left myself a short while later. The thunderstorm had ended, and as I walked home the air smelt damp and oddly fresh, though a nasty brown sludge of sewage and offal squelched under my feet.

When I got home I heard a woman weeping in the kitchen. Josephine’s young man, Edward Brown, stood in the hall. He looked embarrassed, twisting his cap in his hands.

‘What’s going on?’ I asked sharply. I had thought him a decent young man. If he had done something to upset her –

‘It is Goodwife Brocket, sir,’ Brown said hastily. ‘I came back with Josephine and we found her distraught in the kitchen. Forgive me waiting in your hallway, sir, but Josephine sent me out.’

‘Very well.’ I went to join the women. Agnes Brocket sat at the table, her coif removed, her head in her hands. Josephine sat beside her. Agnes looked up as I entered, wisps of nut-brown hair falling over her face.

‘What is amiss?’ I asked.

Josephine answered. ‘Mistress Brocket has had some upsetting family news, sir. I found her crying when Edward and I got back. She will be all right, I will take care of her.’

Agnes looked up. ‘Forgive me, I am but a silly woman – ’

‘Where is Martin?’

‘Gone into town, sir.’ Agnes made an effort to pull herself together, taking out a handkerchief and dabbing her eyes. ‘He’s not happy with the bread delivered by Master Dove, he has gone to complain. Please don’t tell him you saw me thus, Master Shardlake.’

‘I would like to know what is amiss, Agnes.’

She took a deep breath and turned to Josephine, who looked uncertain. Then she answered me quietly, ‘We have a son, sir. John. Our only child, and he is in deep trouble. Some business matters went wrong, and he is in the debtors’ prison in Leicester.’

‘I am sorry to hear that.’

She shook her head. ‘He was such a handsome, charming boy. He had such plans to rise in the world.’

I sat down opposite her. ‘Nothing so wrong in that.’

For the first time since I had known her, Agnes frowned. ‘Martin does not think so. He believes everyone should keep to their appointed place in the social order. He was always severe with John; I think that was why the boy left home early.’ She looked up quickly. ‘But I do not mean to speak ill of my husband, sir. Despite his severity he has always doted on John.’