There was a soft glow of candlelight from many windows, barristers working late now the law term had started. A hot dusty smell, not unpleasant, rose from the cobblestones and the setting sun gave the brick walls of Gatehouse Court a warm red glow. A group of laughing students passed on their way to some revel in the City, young lusty-gallants in bright slashed doublets.
As I turned towards my chambers, I saw two people sitting on a bench outside the hall and to my surprise recognized Marchamount and Lady Honor. Marchamount was half-leaning over her, speaking in a low, urgent voice. I could not see Lady Honor’s face, but her demeanour looked tense. I sidled behind one of the pillars of the undercroft and watched. After a moment Marchamount rose, bowed and walked rapidly off. His face was set coldly. I hesitated, then walked across to Lady Honor, removed my cap and bowed deeply. She wore a silk gown with wide puffed sleeves and flowers embroidered on the bodice; I felt conscious of the sweaty stubble that covered my face, for I had still not had time to visit the barber. But maybe she would think I was being fashionable and growing a beard.
‘My lady, you are visiting the Inn again.’
She looked up at me, brushing a wisp of hair under the stylish French hood she wore. ‘Yes. Another consultation with good Serjeant Marchamount.’ She smiled softly. ‘Sit beside me a moment. You are coming to my banquet tomorrow?’
I took Marchamount’s place on the bench, catching the faint tang of some exotic scent she wore. ‘I am looking forward to it, Lady Honor.’
She looked around the courtyard. ‘This is a peaceful place,’ she said. ‘My grandfather studied here - oh - seventy years ago. Lord Vaughan of Hartham. He fell at Bosworth.’ There was a burst of raucous laughter as another pair of students crossed the yard. Lady Honor smiled. ‘I fear he must have been like these young fellows, he came to the Inns to gain some law to help in running his estates, but he was probably more interested in the revels of the City.’
I smiled. ‘Some things never change, even in the topsy-turvy world we have now.’
‘Oh, they do,’ she said with sudden emphasis. ‘Nowadays these students will be of mere gentry birth; they will have their fun, but then they will settle down to the business of trying to make a fortune, which is all men care for nowadays.’ She frowned suddenly, making sad dimples at the corners of her mouth. ‘Even those one has time for may turn out not to be the gentlemen one thought.’
‘That is sad.’ I realized she probably meant Marchamount. She had not noticed I had seen them together. I felt guilty for my spying.
‘Yes, it is.’ She smiled again. ‘But you, I think, are more than a mere money grubber. You have a look of inner care that does not go with such preoccupations.’
I laughed. ‘Perhaps. You see much, Lady Honor.’
‘Not always as much as I should.’ She was silent a moment. ‘I hear a friend of yours gave the Duke of Norfolk some hard words yesterday. He must be very brave or very foolish.’
‘How did you hear that?’
She smiled. ‘I have my sources.’ Probably Marchamount, I thought. She liked to be mysterious, it seemed.
‘Perhaps both brave and foolish.’
She laughed. ‘Can one be both?’
‘I think so. Godfrey is a strong evangelical.’
‘And you! If you are Lord Cromwell’s man you must be a reformer.’
I looked out over the darkening courtyard. ‘When I was young I was in thrall to the writings of Erasmus. I loved his picture of a peaceful commonwealth where men worshipped in good fellowship, the abuses of the old Church gone.’
‘I too was much taken with Erasmus once,’ she said. ‘Yet it did not turn out as he hoped, did it? Martin Luther began his violent attacks on the Church and Germany was flooded with anarchy.’
I nodded. ‘Erasmus would never comment on Luther, for or against him. That always puzzled me.’
‘I think he was too shocked at what was happening. Poor Erasmus.’ She laughed sadly. ‘He was much given to quoting St John chapter six, was he not? “The Spirit gives life, but the flesh is of no use.” But men are ruled by their passions and always will be. And will take any chance to overthrow authority. Thus those who think humankind can be perfected by mere reason are always disappointed.’
‘That is a bleak message,’ I replied sombrely.
She turned to me. ‘I am sorry, I am in a melancholy humour tonight. You must excuse me. You have probably come in to work, like those fellows I see hunched over their candles through the windows. I distract you.’
‘A welcome distraction.’ She inclined her head and smiled at the compliment. I hesitated, then went on. ‘Lady Honor, there is something I must ask you—’
She raised a hand. ‘I know. I have been waiting for you to raise the matter. But please, not tonight. I am tired and out of sorts, and due back home.’ She looked at me seriously. ‘I hear he is dead. Michael Gristwood. And his brother. Gabriel told me, he said you would be coming.’
‘Both murdered.’
She raised a hand. ‘I know. But I cannot deal with that tonight.’
‘That is your coach by the gate?’