The Queen smiled, that sudden touch of irrepressible humour. ‘No, Matthew, you cannot lead me this far up the path and then abandon me. Tell me everything, and I shall judge what is to be done.’
So I told her the story of my discovery at Hoyland, and Emma’s attack on David, though I minimized the extent of David’s injuries and did not say that he had killed Abigail. I told of Emma’s flight to Portsmouth, my bargain with Rich and the journey to the Mary Rose, my imprisonment by West. And the ship rolling over beneath me and sinking. At that my voice faltered again.
After I finished the Queen was silent a full minute. Her shoulders slumped, then rose again with resolution. She asked quietly, ‘Have you no idea what has become of Emma Curteys?’
‘No. Though she has no money, and left Portsmouth in nothing but a shirt.’
‘Rogues!’ she burst out, in a fury such as I had never seen before, her colour rising. ‘Rogues and villains, to do that to a young girl for money. And as for what Richard Rich did, that is even worse. Well, the girl Emma may be gone but Rich shall not imperil the safety of that poor woman in the Bedlam!’
‘What will you do, your majesty?’ Warner asked anxiously. ‘The King – ’
The Queen shook her head. ‘I will deal with this.’ She stood. ‘Sir Richard Rich, I think, is here at Portchester. Have him fetched.’
‘But your majesty—’
‘Have him fetched,’ she repeated, steel in her voice. She turned to the ladies. ‘Leave us, this is a privy matter.’
Warner hesitated, then bowed and left, the maids-in-waiting following. The Queen and I were alone. The anger in her brown eyes had changed to concern. I felt tears come to my eyes again.
‘The Mary Rose – it must have been terrible. The King saw her go down – he was stricken by it. Lady Carew was with him, he comforted her.’
‘The soldiers on the aftercastle, it was because of me they were brought there. Barak says if it had not been them it would have been another company, and he is right, but – I keep seeing them, thinking I caused their deaths.’
‘That is natural, if wrong.’ She smiled again, sadly. ‘But words do not help, do they? Only time and prayer can do that.’
‘Prayer, your majesty?’ I repeated hollowly.
‘Yes, prayer.’
‘I have lost the art.’
She reached out her hand and laid it on mine. A soft, shapely hand, scented. Then she lifted it abruptly as a knock sounded on the door. She called, ‘Enter,’ and Warner ushered in Richard Rich, his sharp little head buried in the thick fur collar of his grey robe, gold chain of office round his neck. His hard little eyes swept the room. Then he saw me, his eyes widened and he stepped back. I thought, so Barak was right, you thought me dead. Rich staggered and might have fallen had Warner not grasped his thin little shoulders. Rich looked at the Queen, remembered where he was, and bowed deeply. The Queen stared at him with eyes as hard as his own.
‘Sir Richard,’ she said grimly, ‘I see you believed Master Shardlake dead.’
Rich brought himself under control. ‘I heard he was on the Mary Rose, your majesty. They said only a few sailors and soldiers survived.’
The Queen spoke quietly, her eyes never leaving Rich’s face. ‘I know you sent him on board the Mary Rose, to be killed by the man West, who is dead now, and who for all his grievous faults at least tried to protect the life of the woman whose life you helped him ravage.’
Rich gave me a wolfish look. ‘I do not know what this man has told you, your majesty, but he is my enemy. He will say aught—’
‘I believe what he has said, Sir Richard. It makes sense, given the things I know you are capable of. The killing of the clerk Mylling—’
‘He shut himself in that chamber—’
She continued as though he had not spoken. ‘Your conspiracy with West to murder Master Shardlake, your allowing Emma Curteys to go on the Mary Rose, knowing who she was, I know everything, all the way back to the time you stole the King’s letter to Anne Boleyn and took it to Catherine of Aragon – ’
Rich licked his thin lips. He pointed at me. ‘Nothing of this can be proved. West is dead—’
‘His mother lives. She could testify that letter was stolen; there are not many left who were at court nineteen years ago, but there may be some who will remember you going with West. I could soon start an enquiry. And the King will certainly remember that letter—’
Rich’s eye began twitching. ‘Bring me a bible, your majesty. I will swear on it before you—’