Lamentation (The Shardlake series)

‘The Lady Elizabeth is far from the throne. In due time no doubt she will marry into the senior nobility. For now, she is but thirteen, and under my guidance. A council must be appointed to deal with her estates, and in the nature of things there will be much legal business to be done. To begin with, her new properties must be conveyed into her name.’ She took a deep breath, smiled again. ‘I would like you to take on all the legal work connected with her properties. It will be regular employment. You would report not to me but to her Treasurer, Sir Thomas Parry. He will instruct you when legal advice is needed. He will be based near the law courts rather than here.’ She added, ‘I have spoken to the Lady Elizabeth. She remembers her meetings with you, and readily agreed to my suggestion.’


I stood, thinking hard. Elizabeth might be the least important of the King’s children, but an assured place working for her household would provide ample protection against unwarranted persecution by Rich. And my official appointment to the Court of Requests was indeed all too likely to go. This new appointment would bring a steady flow of legal work, in the field of property law too, my specialist area.

The Queen Dowager said, ‘A new start, Matthew, for us both.’ She gave a hesitant smile, with something of apology in it.

I looked at her and thought again, how could this sophisticated, beautiful and profoundly moral woman marry a creature like Thomas Seymour? But perhaps Catherine Parr, after so many years of duty, felt the right to her own choice. And Seymour had good looks, if nothing else.

‘You will take the post?’ she asked.

I looked at her, and nodded. ‘I will.’

‘The Lady Elizabeth is not here at present, she is down at Richmond Palace. I would like you to go there now, take your oath to her. I sent a message you might come today. My barge is ready.’

I said, smiling, ‘You knew I would accept.’

‘I knew you would let me do this for you.’

I nodded, slowly, in acknowledgement. ‘Thank you.’

She regarded me seriously. ‘Elizabeth is not yet fourteen, yet already she has the will and intelligence of an adult. There is one thing she asked me to say to all those appointed to work for her. From another girl her age it might be childish boasting, but not Elizabeth.’

‘What is that?’

The Queen Dowager smiled ruefully. ‘My dogs will wear my collars.’

‘Yes,’ I answered quietly. ‘I can imagine her saying that, and meaning it.’

She stepped forward, and now she did take my hand and pressed it tightly. ‘Goodbye, Matthew. I shall never forget all you have done. Or the true regard in which you hold me. Believe me, I understand that, and value it.’

She looked me in the eyes, then stepped away. I was too choked with emotion to reply, as I think she saw, for she rang a bell for the steward to come and take me down to her barge. There were tears in my eyes, which I tried to hide with the depth of my bow.

Outside the steward said, respectfully, that he would ensure Genesis was taken safely back to Chancery Lane for me. He led me outdoors, and I huddled into my coat as we walked down the path between the snow-covered lawns to the river. He helped me into the barge waiting at the landing stage, where two liveried oarsmen sat. They pulled slowly out into the slate-grey Thames. I glanced back once at Chelsea Palace, then turned to face the oarsmen. They carried me downriver, to Elizabeth.





ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS


As well as my friends in the writing group, many thanks to Maria Rejt, Liz Cowen, Sophie Orme, Antony Topping, Chris Wellbelove and Wes Miller. Thanks once again to Graham Brown of Fullerton’s for meeting my ceaseless stationery demands.

I would also like to thank Dr Stephen Parish for advice on Henry VIII’s medical symptoms. My interpretation of what happened to Henry during the last months of his life is of course entirely my own.

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