The Tudor Secret - C. W. Gortner [106]
I likened his voice to a siren song—soothing, melodic, and all too convincing. A few days ago, I would have been lulled.
“You’re lying. Mary is the last person you want on the throne. You’ve worked against her almost as avidly as you’ve worked against the duke. You wanted her taken on the road or, better yet, killed as she fled. It’s what you planned. Fortunately for her, she proved less gullible than you thought.”
“I’ve never hidden where my ultimate allegiance rests.” He eyed my hand as it tightened on my dagger. “You should know that regardless of what you may think, Her Grace will have more need of me than ever before. She and Mary are not close, not as sisters should be.”
He reached again for his valise. I snapped, “Stay away from that.”
He paused. “I shall need my spectacles and cipher wheel. I assume the letter you bring is written in her usual code? You must have impressed her. She never entrusts her private missives to strangers.”
He knew I brought a letter. I had the unsettling sensation that I was dueling with someone who exceeded any ability I had to thwart him. I struggled to make sense of what I felt, of what I saw and heard; to pry it apart and examine it for unspoken meaning. When I finally did, I nearly laughed aloud at my own naïveté: that I ever could have believed I’d found out everything there was to know about this subtle, lethal man!
“It was you. I overheard Lady Dudley telling Robert someone at court was feeding Mary information; Walsingham implied the same. You warned Mary away. You let Robert go after her, but you protected yourself first by sending her advance notice. She told me at Framlingham that you would know what must be done. I thought it was a threat, but it’s not, is it? She will spare you because she thinks you helped save her from the duke.”
Amusement laced Cecil’s voice. “I can hardly take all the credit. I understand her cousin the duchess of Suffolk also sent her a communiqué, detailing all types of sordid goings-on at court. It seems Madame Suffolk had her own ax to grind against the Dudleys.”
I was not surprised to hear of the duchess’s involvement. She had vowed vengeance. What better way to achieve it than to feign compliance with the Dudleys while secretly inciting her royal cousin to action?
But there was of course the other matter involving her, the primary reason for my being here. I watched Cecil closely as he added, “As I’ve said, I’m not entirely her enemy. Oh, and she always uses the same cipher. I’ve advised her numerous times to devise a new one, but she never listens. One of the few qualities she does share with her sister.”
He reached again to his valise and drew out a pair of silver-framed glasses. He held out his hand. “The missive, please?”
I gave it to him. Cold certainty began to seep through my veins. He was indeed a master of opportunism, an expert in games of deceit. Whatever I thought he had done or was about to do only revealed another layer underneath.
He read Mary’s letter in silence, glancing now and then at the key wheel in his other hand. When he was done, he removed his glasses, set the paper and wheel aside.
“Well?” I said. I felt a subtle shift in the air.
“She too stays true to character.” He raised weary eyes. “She orders that before the council even thinks of asking for her clemency, they must see that she’s proclaimed queen to the exclusion of all other claimants. She also warns that those who failed to offer her support should remove themselves at once. Those who stay must show proof of their constancy by taking the duke and his sons into custody, as well as Jane Grey. She promises the usual array of punishments if she is disobeyed. Not that she will be; everyone knows the die is cast.”
“You’ll be safe enough,” I said, but I had no satisfaction in the barb. There was an awful tingle in my belly, a growing awareness