The Tudor Secret - C. W. Gortner [48]
I made myself sheathe my dagger. I didn’t trust him. He had an air of immorality about him, a corruption he wore like a second skin. He was probably capable of doing anything to suit his purpose, without thinking about it twice. But he still had to answer to Cecil, and in my current straits, I had to oblige him. To a point.
With my other hand still clenched about Robert’s note, I said: “I only just arrived. I have nothing to report.”
“You’re lying.” His stare bore into me. “I do not relish the antics of callow boys, nor am I in favor of employing them. But I will accommodate our employer’s misguided trust in you, for now. Therefore, I’ll ask once more. What do you have to report?”
I debated, prolonging the moment just enough to see his jaw edge. Then, with deliberate reluctance, I opened my hand to reveal the crushed missive. “Well, there is this.”
He took it from me. He had peculiarly feminine hands, soft and white and no doubt icy to the touch. He slid a long nail under the seal. With expert precision, he unglued it from the paper. After reading the missive he refolded it, pressing the damp seal back in place.
“An ideal place for a rendezvous,” he said, handing the paper to me. “Secluded, unfrequented, yet close to a postern gate. Her Grace plays this game well.”
The note of chill admiration in his otherwise passionless voice surprised me. “You approve? But I thought…” I paused. I didn’t know what I thought. I had been instructed to retain Robert’s confidence, to listen and report, and to facilitate, if instructed, the princess’s escape. I suddenly realized no one had hired me to think, and I felt exactly like what he had called me—a callow fool, my strings yanked by some unseen puppeteer.
Walsingham regarded me. “Did you think we had days in which to fine-tune our plan? Proof enough of how unsuitable you are. In matters such as these, success depends on initiative. It is something an experienced intelligencer would understand.”
“Look here,” I replied, and I couldn’t ease an infuriating tremor from my voice. “I didn’t ask to get involved in this. You forced me into it, remember? Neither you nor Cecil gave me a choice. If I hadn’t agreed to help, no doubt I’d be at the bottom of the river by now.”
“We always have a choice. You just took the one that you think will give you the most advantage, as does every man. Anything else you care to remonstrate about?”
Again, he took me off guard. I couldn’t think of anyone I’d less prefer to give my information to. But withholding wouldn’t help Elizabeth.
“I overheard Lady Dudley and Lord Robert talking.” I kept my tone impersonal. “His lordship will send Lord Robert to capture the Lady Mary. He also refused Robert’s request to see Her Grace and present what my master calls his ‘proposal.’ You should tell Cecil the duke may have another purpose in mind for her than the one we think.”
I paused. Walsingham remained expressionless.
“It stands to reason it must be something he doesn’t want his son to know about,” I added. “Why else would he send Robert away?”
Walsingham did not speak.
“Did you hear me? Whatever the duke plans, it can’t be good for the princess. You just said success depends on initiative. Here’s our chance. We should get Her Grace as far from here, and from the Dudleys, as soon as we can.”
Had I not known better, I’d have thought he couldn’t have cared less. Then I detected a surreptitious gleam in his hooded eyes, a near indiscernible tightening of his mouth. What I had relayed was important. He didn’t want me to know it.
“I’ll convey your concerns,” he said at length. “In the meanwhile, this note must be delivered, lest your master suspect our interference. After you do, return to Lord Robert. If your services are required again, you’ll be advised.”
I stared at him. “What about Her Grace? Aren’t you going to warn her?”
“That is not something you need concern yourself with. You were told to follow