The Tudor Secret - C. W. Gortner [47]
He scrawled his reply, sanding it and sealing the paper with his signet. “Deliver this to her. She arrived hours ago, demanding apartments overlooking the garden. Take the corridor to the ward, cross to the stairs, and climb them to the gallery. You won’t see her in person. She has a penchant for afternoon naps. Her women should be about, though, including that morsel Kate Stafford, who has her trust.” He guffawed. “Whatever you do, don’t give it to the dragon Ashley. She hates me as if I were Lucifer himself.”
I slid the paper into my jerkin. “I’ll do my best, my lord.”
He gave me a cruel smile. “See that you do. For if all goes as planned, you could soon be squire to the next king of England.”
Chapter Fourteen
As soon as I got out of the room and ran down the hallway, I turned a corner and stopped to examine the seal on Lord Robert’s reply. I cursed. The wax was still wet. I’d destroy the paper if I tried to undo it. Thinking I could tarry until it dried sufficiently, I moved into the ward.
I reminded myself not to act precipitously. Anything I did could turn against me. Still, I couldn’t deliver Robert’s reply and simply wait for whatever happened next. The hunt had begun. If I was right, Elizabeth would become the first of the two royal sisters to end up in the Tower, especially when Robert learned she’d never consent to a plot that hinged on both her siblings’ deaths. I desperately wanted to see Cecil, but I had no idea of how to reach the secretary, nor had he offered, which didn’t say much for my fledgling skills as a spy.
I would have to warn Elizabeth myself, while I delivered the letter.
Which meant I had to somehow see her in person.
I crossed the ward and entered a short passage leading to the stairs Robert had mentioned. I turned my attention back to the seal, about to worry it a bit when a sudden movement caught my eye. For a second I couldn’t move. Then I bent to my boot and took my dagger from its sheath. I shifted toward a nearby doorway. The door was ajar. I’d seen a figure slip past it.
I inched forth, my dagger in my fist. I drew short stifled breaths through my nose, but even this sounded too loud to my ears. Whoever waited for me could at this moment be drawing a far more lethal weapon than the blade I brandished, readying to cleave my skull the moment I inched over the threshold. Or perhaps it wasn’t my death he sought. He had stalked me through the streets of London and not taken me when he’d had the chance. He had come to Greenwich, presumably after me. Now he was lurking in this room.
I came to a halt. Cold sweat beaded my brow; as a drop slid down my temple I found to my horror that I couldn’t take the final step that would bring me inside. I couldn’t reach out and throw the door open, announcing my presence.
Coward. Get in there. Face the bastard and be done with it.
I reached out, every finger stretched taut. I grazed wood. With a simultaneous uplifting of my blade and savage push at the door, I leapt into the room, a half cry on my lips.
A skeletal man stood there, dressed in black.
I exhaled in fury. “Christ. I could have killed you.”
Walsingham returned my stare. “I doubt it. Shut that door. I’d rather we weren’t seen.”
I closed the door with a kick of my heel. He was the last person I’d expected to see.
The slight tilt to his lips might have passed for a smile. “I’m here for your report.”
“Report? What report?”
“For our mutual employer, of course. Unless you’ve returned your dubious loyalties to that pack of scheming traitors who reared you.”
I returned his stare. “I don’t answer to you.”
“Oh? I believe you do. Indeed, our employer has entrusted me with your welfare. Henceforth, you take your instructions from me.” He paused, with marked intent. “That means that whatever you have to report, you will report directly to me.”
In the starkness of the chamber he looked taller and so gaunt the light seemed to pierce his skin and