The Other Countess (3 page)

His lips curved upwards again. ‘And he is?’

‘I think you might know him.’ Ellie prayed for rescue. A sudden storm. The arrival of the Queen of Sheba – anything. ‘He is a companion to Lord Mountjoy –’

‘’Swounds, Will, what’s keeping you?’ bellowed James from the far end of the yew walk. ‘We’ll be late.’

Will took a step away, but not before his thumb ran lightly over her jaw, touching the little dip in her chin. He gave his brother a long-suffering look.

‘Ah, my apologies, mistress.’ James swept off his now restored cap and bowed. ‘I now understand completely what’s kept him from his appointment.’

‘The Lady Eleanor,’ Will said by way of introduction.

‘Sir.’ Ellie took advantage of her good fortune. ‘I will not delay you any longer.’

‘Then I’ll look forward to seeing you again when we both have time to linger.’ He kissed her fingers, his eyes holding her gaze.

‘Oh, um, well then, good day to you both.’ Flustered by his gallantry, she dipped a curtsy and hurried back to the safe haven of her room. How on earth, she wondered, could she avoid the flirtatious earl for the duration of her stay at court? She had not forgotten his temper and did not want to be near when the fuse was lit by unpleasant memories of her father.

2

Will watched her go with regret. His attraction to the dark-haired lady with her execrable embroidery had taken him by surprise. She’d been laughing at his brothers – that was what had done it. Her eyes had sparkled with humour, her smiling lips just begging for a kiss.

Will sighed. He was here on serious business and could not afford to be distracted.

James scratched his chest and yawned. ‘Who was she, Will?’

‘I’m not entirely sure. A connection of Mountjoy’s.’

‘Money?’

Will shrugged.

‘Oh well, with our luck she’ll either be already taken or penniless,’ James said philosophically.

‘She’s lovely, like a spring morning.’

James gave a mock shudder. ‘Spare us – write her the sonnet, but don’t try it out on me.’

Will rubbed his close-trimmed beard. He was rather proud that he was now of an age where he could sport one. ‘I think she might like a poem. She had ink on her fingers.’

‘An educated female – the good lord defend us from that unnatural tribe.’

‘Careful, James. Remember whose court this is.’

James was not so reckless as to dig a deeper hole for himself. They might not think they were overheard but, as the lady had just proved, they could take nothing for granted. One whisper in the Queen’s ear against them and they would be out in the cold. ‘So if she’s not eligible, what are you going to do about the lovely little lady?’

‘I’ve just this moment met her, Jamie. Your thoughts are running away with you as usual.’ Will handed over the feather and continued walking.

‘You could set her up as your mistress. A prime piece like that won’t stay unclaimed for long: if you don’t, someone else will.’

‘I’m here to find a wife, not a leman.’

‘Then you don’t mind if I try for her?’ James expertly ducked the blow he knew he had coming.

‘You don’t go near her.’

‘Like that is it?’

‘Oh, shog off, Jamie.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

Tobias was waiting for them by the steps to Lord Burghley’s private apartments. All three Laceys were intrigued to know why Elizabeth’s most trusted adviser sought this meeting. Among his many responsibilities, Burghley was Master of the Court of Wards, which meant he administered the Lacey estate until Will reached his majority at twenty-one. He doubtless enriched himself by creaming off some of the profits from his ward’s income, as was the accepted practice for a placeholder at court. Burghley was a man to keep happy as to be on the wrong side of him was tantamount to losing the Queen’s favour.

A clerk ushered Will into the inner sanctum, bidding his brothers remain outside. Will entered the brightly lit room, finding Burghley standing in a commanding position by the window, dressed in rich black velvet robes trimmed with gold buttons. A small ruff fitted snugly under his mink brown beard. A cluster of white hairs sprouted at each corner of his mouth, reminding Will of cat’s whiskers, alert and twitching for the presence of vermin nibbling away at the fabric of the kingdom. Dark eyes surveyed the young earl, weighing, judging and, fortunately, not dismissing him.

‘My Lord Burghley.’

‘Dorset. Good to see you at court.’ Burghley gestured to a chair, taking his position behind his desk. Behind him on the wall was Saxton’s new map of England and Wales, the first ever to show accurately the Queen’s domains. Will’s eye was drawn briefly to the spot on the Thames occupied by his own lands, lying just south of the centre of the chart and not that many miles from Windsor. ‘How did you leave your lovely mother?’

‘The countess is well, sir.’

‘But she’s not come with you?’

They hadn’t been able to afford the clothing for more than himself and his brothers. As Burghley probably knew, his mother and sister would have to wait until the family fortunes improved. But still the polite dance had to be performed.

‘Not this year, sir. She prefers the quiet of the country.’

Amusement flickered in Burghley’s eyes. ‘That’s not the lady I knew in her youth.’

‘Age mellows us all.’

Burghley smiled at that. ‘Not all, young man, not all. I do
not believe the Lady Dorset would ever mellow.’ He picked up a decanter standing on the desk and poured two small glasses of red wine, pushing one towards Will. A good sign. If he had fallen foul of canny Lord Burghley, he surely would not be offered refreshment?

Unless it was poisoned.

Will dismissed that wild thought. He’d been watching too many plays.

‘I expect you are wondering why I requested that you call on me.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Will sipped, relieved to find no suspicious aftertaste.

‘I’m always on the hunt for good men, Dorset, and reports about you have been favourable.’ He waved negligently to the pile of papers on his left-hand side. ‘Steady, making sensible steps to restore your family’s wealth, loyal. In short, a fine young man. Your father would’ve been proud of you.’

Will swallowed the bitterness that he always felt when the last earl was mentioned.

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘The Queen is, as you well know, the fount of all favour at her court, and doubtless you are here to win her regard, but I do have some discretion to employ people under my own aegis.’

Will’s ears pricked up. ‘Sir?’

‘How is the land around Lacey Hall at this time? Quiet? No sign of Catholic agents?’

‘No, sir.’

‘The families of the old persuasion not brewing trouble?’

This was trickier. Will did not like to be put in the position of telling tales on his neighbours.

‘None that I am aware of, sir.’ Which was true. Old Dame
Holton’s adamant rejection of the new ways in the parish church was a matter of local interest only, and no threat to any but the vicar’s peace of mind.

‘Good, good, that chimes with the other reports I have received. What would you say if I asked you to be my eyes and ears in Berkshire?’

Will swallowed. ‘I … er … would count it an honour to serve the Queen in any capacity Her Majesty wishes.’

‘This is my wish, Dorset. And I’m not asking you to betray the foibles of your friends and neighbours; I have no time to police everyone’s conscience. I am requesting that you keep any questionable characters under surveillance and report any treasonous behaviour to me.’

Put like that, Will could hardly refuse. ‘Well, of course, sir.’

Burghley held his wine up to the window where it shone the colour of newly spilled blood. ‘We continue to walk the knife’s edge, Dorset. Spain and the Pope look on us with ravenous appetites. It is no easy matter to be charged with the defence of the realm. The threat and the plots are all too real, as Campion proved.’

Will was well aware that the Jesuit had been executed in December with two other Catholic missionaries; their crime to try to upset the delicate religious balance in the country that Elizabeth and her advisers were adamant had to be maintained. No sensible person wanted to return to the bloodletting of Queen Mary’s reign. Peace was an aspiration Will could fully support.

‘I will do as you ask, sir. I would have reported any worrying signs to you without this request.’

Burghley smiled. ‘I know, Dorset, but there’s more. I’d like
to do something for you. Climbing out of the debt your father saw fit to leave you will take a great deal of luck and persistence. This position working for me comes with a small reward – three hundred pounds a year. For that, I expect you to think as my man and act as my man.’

Will shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the offer. He knew Burghley to be an honest politician, as far as that was possible, but it sounded like selling his soul to him.

‘My first loyalty is to the Queen, sir.’

‘And so is mine, so there should be no conflict, should there?’

Will tasted his wine to give him a moment to consider the offer. He couldn’t refuse as to do so would mean he was out of court even before he had a chance to make his entry.

‘I’m honoured, sir, that you have decided to place your trust in me.’

‘Humph!’ Burghley grimaced. ‘Don’t lie, young man, you are annoyed at the necessity – just as I would be in your shoes. But you need have no fear. You will find my favour a boon rather than a hindrance in your affairs. I’m minded to like you – I even think better of you for the reluctance to give away some of your independence. But do not mistake the matter: you would have to give it to one or other of the factions at court if you wished to get anywhere near Her Majesty. You may think later that it was better me than any other.’

Will warmed to the man’s plain dealing. ‘I believe I’m of that mind already, sir.’

‘Good. Ah, here’s my son. Have you met Cecil, Dorset?’

‘I have not had that pleasure.’ Will rose to his feet as a youth of around his age entered. Dressed in the same black robes as his father, Robert Cecil was something of a pale
shadow, crook-backed and thin, but his hooded eyes were astute.

Not someone to be dismissed
, Will thought.

They exchanged bows.

‘Has my father been putting you on the rack for information?’ Cecil asked, passing his father a letter.

‘And turning the screws. But I think he has exhausted my knowledge now,’ replied Will in kind.

‘Young Dorset will be working with us, Robert,’ Lord Burghley said, cracking the seal. ‘Take him to Benton and ensure he receives his stipend.’

‘At once, sir.’

Cecil led the way out of the chamber. ‘He must value you, my lord, if you’ve got the old man to part with some money. You should be flattered.’

‘Or terrified.’

Cecil gave a darkly cynical laugh. ‘That as well. First time at court since becoming earl, I hear.’

‘Yes.’ Will tried to quash the surge of self-doubt at his lack of knowledge. He had a fleeting impression of himself as a mariner wandering an ocean without a chart.

‘Then I hope I can be of assistance. The place is full of vain Devonshire peacocks; it will be a refreshing change to have someone of my own age who is worth talking to.’

Will could guess who the peacocks were that had made Cecil’s life a misery. Walter Ralegh, a renowned son of Devon, fresh from the Irish campaign, had been cutting a dash recently. More fool him if he had spurned Cecil, for he had the ear of one of the most powerful men in the country. Will would not make the same mistake.

‘I’ve never had many feathers to flaunt, Master Cecil, so I hope my conversation will not disappoint.’

‘You won’t have to try too hard to beat the fools who fill the court with their galliards, capers and odes to their mistress’s eyebrow.’

‘I can promise you I have never composed a line.’

‘Excellent. Leave that to Sidney and those who can rhyme.’ Cecil paused to bow to a sharp-faced nobleman dressed in severe black, a close-fitting cap covering his hair. ‘On your way to see my father, sir?’

‘Indeed, Master Cecil. Is he within?’ The gentleman’s voice was soft but chilling.

‘Yes, sir, and he is expecting you.’

The man swept on with a swish of fur-trimmed robes around booted ankles.

‘That was Sir Francis Walsingham,’ Cecil said aside to Will. ‘A useful gentleman for you to know. They’re calling him England’s Spy Master.’ He quirked a wry smile. ‘Not a man to cross.’

‘I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, Cecil, but I pray I have no need to call on him. I intend to keep my lands free of plots and stratagems.’

‘Quite so, but the threat to the Queen’s person is regrettably very real, else my father would not be paying you to keep Berkshire safe. Ah, here’s Benton.’

The clerk had Will’s first pay ready in a pouch – three hundred gold coins. There had clearly never been any question in Benton’s mind that the earl would be along to fetch it.

‘Your brothers await you in the fountain courtyard, my lord,’ Benton said, marking receipt of the money in his ledger.

Robert Cecil bowed a farewell. ‘Until later, my lord.’

Will tucked the heavy purse into his doublet and bounded down the stairs, wondering just what he had sold to Burghley.

‘Well?’ asked James, pouncing on him as he emerged.

‘I’ll tell you when we are alone,’ Will said swiftly, toppling Tobias from the fountain ledge to hurry him away. As they reached a quiet corner of the castle, he briefly recounted the interview.

‘Three hundred! Gads, that’s a fair purse!’ Tobias exclaimed. ‘Can I have a new horse?’

‘No!’ Will and James replied in unison.

‘I have to spend it on my appearance at the joust. As it was, I was going in our father’s old armour on a broke-backed warhorse; at least now I can show myself to some advantage,’ continued Will.

‘Give me the purse and I’ll go see the armourer,’ offered James.

His brother’s interest in all things military had already endeared him to the castle smith so Will knew James stood the best chance of stretching their money a long way.

‘I’m in your debt.’ He passed him the purse.