The Tudor Secret - C. W. Gortner [70]
Mistress Alice’s misshapen hand tugged at my jerkin. I looked into her eyes. The lump in my chest turned molten. Barnaby acknowledged my warning glance as I turned to where Elizabeth stood. “She’d never do this to any living being, much less to a man—not unless she was forced to,” I said. “She has been hurt, tortured. The duke ordered this done.”
“Why?” Elizabeth’s voice caught. “Dear God in heaven, why do this to him?”
“To keep him alive. To gain time,” was my grim reply.
Elizabeth stared at me. “I can’t leave him here. We must get him out of that bed.”
“We can’t,” I said, and she took one look at my face and stiffened. “We must go. Now.”
She glanced at Barnaby. “I don’t hear anything,” she said.
I answered, “Neither do I. But Mistress Alice does. Look at her.”
Elizabeth did. Mistress Alice had shuffled to the secret door and was motioning to us with unmistakable agitation. Her hands were unbearably twisted, those of a hundred-year-old crone. What they had done to her had stolen years from her life. She was not yet fifty.
I had to fight back my rage, and returned to Elizabeth. She met my stare defiantly and then turned away and made for the door without a backward glance.
Barnaby followed. Sidney bolted to a coffer, flung open the lid. He yanked out a jewel-hilted sword sheathed in leather and tossed it to me. “Edward has no need of it anymore. It’s of Toledo steel, a gift from the imperial ambassador. I’ll try and delay them while you get away.”
I knew instantly from the feel that it had been fashioned for someone light of build, like me. Only I could never have afforded such a sword on my own.
Mistress Alice shuffled purposefully to the bed. “See that Her Grace gets out safely,” I ordered Barnaby, and I kicked the secret door shut in his face. Sidney was at the main door. He froze, gaping at me. “Where are you going? They’re almost here!”
I moved to where Mistress Alice stood at the bedside table, rummaging through a wooden chest—her medicine chest, which she’d stashed on the kitchen shelf, out of my reach. I felt a cold shock as I realized I’d never even noticed it was missing, though she never took it with her when she traveled. Whenever I’d tried to peek inside it, she’d said,
Nothing in there for a big-eyed curious lad; no secrets for him to see.…
She turned, gazing at me as if she saw me for the first time. Tears leapt in my eyes as she took my hand. With quivering gnarled fingers, she set something wrapped in oiled cloth in my palm. She folded my fingers over it. I was captivated by the look that came over her face then, as if she had finally found redemption.
Then the door opened. Sidney was thrust back.
With her gift in one fist and the sword in the other, I pivoted to meet my past.
Chapter Nineteen
She wore a gown the color of armor. Of all those who might have entered through that door, she was the last person I expected to see—though it made perfect sense it should be her. Behind her was Archie Shelton, his scarred face impassive. At the sight of him, I had to stop myself from vaulting forward in fury.
I heard voices in the antechamber. “Wait until I call for you,” she said over her shoulder, and Master Shelton came in and closed the door. I registered Sidney’s retreat out of the corner of my eye. At my back I felt Mistress Alice go still. I outstretched an arm to shield her, even as I recognized the futility of it. Though she must have been surprised to see me, Lady Dudley’s expression was imperturbable.
“I see you’ve failed to heed the one unbreakable rule of every loyal servant,” she said. “You failed to recognize your proper place.” She glanced at the panel in the wainscoting concealing the secret door. “But, I do give you credit for finding that entrance.” Her voice hardened. “Where is she?”
Knowing Barnaby and Kate must be rushing Elizabeth to the gate where Peregrine waited with the horses at that very moment, I said, “I am alone. I wanted to find out for myself.”
“You’re not a very good liar,” she replied. “She’ll never get away,