Doctor Who_ The Roundheads - Mark Gatiss [55]
Frances felt her heart begin to pound. She watched the older man reading for a while, then he looked up and stared at her. His eyes were cold, malicious.
‘Mistress Kemp,’ he said at last, ‘you know a man named Thomas Culpeper?’
The name went like a dagger to Frances’s heart. She felt a cold sweat spring out on her forehead.
‘Tom? Yes, of course. He was the baker’s lad. I used to see him often. When I was a girl. I’ve been running errands there for years.’
She glanced up at her father, seeking confirmation, but Kemp’s blank expression didn’t alter.
Christopher Whyte took his turn. ‘He left his father’s service and went to war.’
Frances frowned. ‘He did? I hope he is well.’
Whyte smiled, charmed by her play-acting. ‘He is. In fact, he’s done rather well for himself. He’s been appointed to General Cromwell’s lifeguard.’
‘Really?’ said Frances, stifling a yawn.
Copper tossed a square of paper across the table. ‘Did you write this?’
Frances did not have to look at the letter to know. A wave of cold terror washed over her. Was everything discovered?
Her relationship with Thomas? Their secret trysts?
‘Well?’ hissed Kemp, looming over his daughter like a vengeful giant.
Frances clasped her hands together. ‘What am I accused of? Is this a star chamber that I am brought to –’
Kemp lashed out with his big hand and slapped her across the cheek. She yelled as she felt the impact sting her soft skin.
‘Slut!’ barked Kemp. ‘I have toiled to save my King’s life whilst my own daughter ruts with his enemies!’
He raised his hand to strike her again but Whyte shot to his feet and grabbed Kemp’s arm.
‘Enough, Kemp! This is no time for recriminations.
There’s too much to be done.’
Kemp swung away, his back ramrod straight, boiling with fury. Copper regarded Frances steadily as tears rolled down her cheeks.
‘My dear,’ he said quietly, ‘we don’t seek to blame you.
Heaven only knows where the heart may lead us. But what we ask of you now is to help us.’
Frances could hardly think straight. ‘What do you mean?’
Copper looked up at the ceiling and stroked his beard.
‘You are in an invaluable position, lady. You have the heart and, therefore, the ear of one of Cromwell’s closest aides. We only ask that you acquire a little... information for us.’
Frances was aghast. ‘And betray Thomas? Never!’
Kemp swung back and raised his hand threateningly.
‘You’ll do as you’re instructed, girl or –’
This time Whyte’s sword flashed from its scabbard and he pointed it menacingly towards the landlord’s throat.
‘I’ve warned you, Kemp. I’ll not tolerate such behaviour.
Your daughter may be of use to us, but you are eminently dispensable. Is that understood?’ Kemp glowered, his hand still raised. ‘Is it?’ hissed Whyte.
Kemp nodded slowly and lowered his arm. Whyte sheathed his sword and resumed his place, huffing with repressed fury.
Sir John Copper gave a small sigh and continued, as though the incident had been a minor distraction.
‘It is not a question of betrayal, Frances. We merely wish to know certain dates and times. How we put this information to use is our own business. Besides –’ he arched an eyebrow mockingly – ‘have you not betrayed your father and your King already?’
Frances set her jaw determinedly. ‘I will not do it.’
Copper returned to his examination of the papers. ‘You’ll find that you will, my dear. In the morning.’
He waved her away. Kemp put his brawny arms around Frances and dragged her to her feet. Kicking and protesting, she was hustled out of the room.
Copper turned at once to Whyte. ‘This is heaven-sent, Chris,’ he smiled. ‘Through Culpeper we might find out the duty times of the King’s guards. It will make the whole operation much easier.’
Whyte nodded. ‘It would still be better if we had someone on the inside.’
Copper considered this. ‘What of the serving girl? At Hurst Castle?’
Whyte grimaced. ‘Unreliable. I would hate to stake my life on her cooperation. No, better that we substitute another.’
Copper’s face contracted into a smile. ‘You have someone in