‘I repeated what you said. He spoke of you admiringly.’
She looked relieved. ‘Yes, they all like coming to my banquets, Lord Cromwell and the duke and all the courtiers. But in these times - well, I know each side wonders if my sympathies lie with the other. When in truth—’ she gave a little laugh—‘I am with neither. I know if the duke learned I was helping Lord Cromwell in connection with secret enquiries, he would not be pleased.’ She smiled sadly. ‘You see how I am trapped. Yet I only ever wanted good conversation round my table.’
I grimaced. ‘In these times it is hard to avoid getting caught in the tangles of the great. Often I think I would like to retire to the country.’
‘I am thinking of escaping to Lincolnshire, to my family estates. Though I love London, unlike my nephew. But I suppose the earl would want me to stay while this business is on.’
‘Yes. I think he would, my lady.’ I hesitated. ‘I spoke with Serjeant Marchamount in the boat coming over.’
‘I saw your heads together.’ Her eyes were suddenly watchful. ‘Were you checking what I had told you?’
‘Yes, I had to. You must understand that.’
Her face reddened. ‘And I thought we might relax today, have a pleasant day out.’
‘Come, Lady Honor, you know better than that.’
Her lips set. ‘Do I? Is it so strange I should hope for a little converse with a congenial companion, having answered all his enquiries?’
I was not to be distracted. ‘Marchamount appeared surprised when I said the Duke of Norfolk was after your lands.’ I hesitated. ‘My impression was that that was not the subject the two of them were discussing at the banquet, when he spoke of getting Marchamount to press you.’
‘Am I to have no peace?’ she asked softly. She closed her eyes a moment, then met mine again, fiercely. ‘Matthew, I swore on the Bible that Norfolk has asked me no questions about Greek Fire and I swore truly. And it is true that he is after my lands. That is how it started.’
‘How what started?’
‘Something that became more complicated. A family matter that is none of your business. It has no connection with your wretched papers and formulae.’
‘Can you be sure of that?’
‘Yes.’ She sighed wearily. ‘I am going to say no more, Matthew.’ She raised a hand. ‘If you want you can tell Cromwell and he can have me brought before him. He will get the same answer. Some matters are private.’
‘The days of private matters among aristocratic families are gone, my lady. Such matters led to the wars of Lancaster and York.’
She turned a face to me that was utterly weary. ‘Yes, all power is with the House of Tudor now. Yet is it not hard to take seriously, the king as head of the Church deciding how his people should relate to God, when his policy is ruled by his fickle passions?’
She spoke softly, but nonetheless I glanced back nervously at her servants. She smiled ruefully. ‘I have been accompanied everywhere by servants since I was a baby. I know how to pitch my voice so they cannot hear.’
‘That is still dangerous talk, Lady Honor.’
‘It’s the talk of the streets. But you are right, these days we have to be careful what we say.’
We walked on for a little in silence. ‘It is not easy always having servants around one,’ she said suddenly. ‘Often I wish them far away. I remember once when I was a little girl my mother took me to the roof of our house. She showed me all the fields and woods, stretching away in every direction. She said, “They are ours, Honor, as far as you can see, and once our family owned the country all the way to Nottingham.” It was a windy spring day, she held my hand as we stood on the flat leads. Her ladies and my governess were there with their dresses billowing in the wind and all at once I wished I could fly away over those woods and fields, alone, like a bird.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘But we are bound to the earth, are we not? We are not birds. We have responsibilities. Mine is my family.’
‘I am sorry I pressed you again, but—’
‘No more, Matthew, I am weary.’
‘Perhaps we should return to the baiting—’
She shook her head. ‘No, I cannot face it. Would you walk with me a little further, to the next river stairs? I will send a servant back to say I have been taken faint.’ She screwed up her eyes as the cloud passed and the hot sun appeared again, bringing sparkling waves of silver to the brown Thames water.
We walked on slowly. I felt a boor for constantly pressing her thus. But I had to; my feelings, and hers, were unimportant. A large barge, full of building materials, passed us on the way to Whitehall and for a moment I imagined it ablaze from end to end, the water around it on fire.
‘Perhaps you think my devotion to family foolish,’ she said, interrupting my grim thoughts.