‘When did you sell your soul to the devil?’ the Queen asked quietly.
Rich reddened, opened his mouth, then closed it hard, his pointed little chin jutting but the tic under his eye twitching again. The Queen said, ‘Listen to me, Richard Rich. The woman Ellen Fettiplace, and Master West’s mother, are now under my personal protection. As West is dead, I shall pay Ellen’s fees at the Bedlam myself so long as she chooses to stay there. If anything happens to her, or to Matthew, I promise you on my oath – and my oath is not made lightly – I shall tell the King all you have done, starting with your theft of that letter, which gave Catherine of Aragon notice he intended to divorce her.’
Rich said nothing. The Queen’s face flushed with anger.
‘Do you understand? Answer your Queen, churl!’
He said, very quietly, ‘I understand, your majesty.’
‘One thing more,’ I added. My voice sounded thick from the hatred I felt for Rich. ‘There is a will, that he tricked me into making. He has a copy. It must be destroyed.’
The Queen turned to Warner. ‘Robert, Master Rich will bring the copy to you within the hour. You will personally destroy it.’
Rich looked at the Queen with hunted, twitching eyes. She stared him down. ‘I will bring it,’ he said.
‘Good. Then get out of my sight. And stay out of it.’
Rich bowed, then began walking backwards out of the room. From the doorway he gave me a look. It told me plainly that if ever I found myself at his mercy again, I would die, slowly and painfully, while he watched.
As the door closed behind him I drew a deep breath. Warner, too, visibly relaxed. The Queen alone still stared angrily at the closed door.
WARNER TOOK Barak and me to the gate of Portchester Castle. He had not spoken, but as we parted he said quietly, ‘Regarding Sir Quintin Priddis and his son, the Queen may want to act against them, but I shall argue against it. It would make these matters public and do no good to the Court of Wards. The King much values the profits it brings, and I do not want the Queen arguing with him.’
‘I understand,’ I said.
He took a deep breath. ‘And after this I feel it might be safer if the Queen did not instruct you in any more cases.’
I nodded. ‘Given where this one led?’
He spoke quietly. ‘If you love her, as I do, you will leave her in peace now.’
‘I agree, Master Warner. And I am sorry again that I accused you.’
He nodded, then reached out a hand. ‘Goodbye, Matthew,’ he said.
‘Goodbye, Robert, and thank you.’ I hesitated, ‘Beware of Richard Rich. I fear I have made him into the Queen’s enemy.’
‘I will.’
Barak and I rode across the bridge over the moat. My eyes turned to the sea, then flickered away. I drew a deep breath.
‘To Hoyland,’ I said. ‘Then home.’
We turned and rode away from Portchester Castle, away from the sea.
Chapter Fifty
TWO HOURS LATER we rode again down the narrow lane to Hoyland Priory. We passed through the gate and faced the house. Poor Abigail’s flowers had mostly died and the grass on the once neat lawns was starting to grow high. The windows were shuttered. I saw the butts by the nuns’ graveyard had gone.
I had been relieved to turn inland, but now, as we rode towards the porch, the gentle motion of the horse seemed all at once like a heaving deck. I grasped the reins, pulled Oddleg to a halt, and closed my eyes, breathing heavily.
‘All right?’ Barak asked anxiously.
‘Yes. Just give me a moment.’
‘There’s Dyrick.’
I opened my eyes. Dyrick had come out onto the steps. He stood there in his black robe, frowning at us. The sight restored me; I would not let that man see my weakness. Dyrick called over his shoulder into the hall, and a boy ran out to take the horses.
‘You’re back at last,’ Dyrick said in his grating voice as we approached. ‘It’s been four days. Master Hobbey has been out of his mind with worry. Where is Emma? Did you find her?’
I had to smile at how, even now, he had to be argumentative. Yet I could see he had been mightily worried; fearing no doubt that what the Hobbeys had done to Emma might have been discovered.
‘I found her, Dyrick. But she would not return with me. She ran away again, I do not know where she is.’
‘We heard of the Mary Rose sinking, the attack on the Isle of Wight.’
‘The French failed to take it. Though they are still in the Solent.’ I had already agreed with Barak to say nothing about being on the Mary Rose. There was no point. ‘The lawn is starting to look unkempt,’ I said.
Dyrick grunted. ‘Half the servants have left. Even that old crone Ursula has gone, saying the household’s cursed. They’ve all run back to the village, to try and ingratiate themselves with Ettis. He has been released, by the way. Master Hobbey kept his word.’
‘Where is he?’
‘In his study. He never leaves it now, save to go to his son.’