The Tudor Secret

Chapter Four





Though Guilford had been at court for over three years, presumably engaged in more than the satiation of his vices, he got us lost within a matter of seconds. I imagined being discovered centuries later, two skeletons with my hands locked about his throat, and took it upon myself to ask directions. With the aid of a gold coin secured from a grumbling Guilford, a page brought us to the hall’s south entrance, where the duke’s sons waited in their ostentatious finery. Only the eldest, Jack, was absent.

“Finally,” declared Ambrose Dudley, the second eldest. “We’d begun to think Brendan had hog-tied you to the bed to get you dressed.”

Guilford curled his lip. “Not bloody likely.”

The brothers laughed. I noticed Robert’s laughter didn’t reach his eyes, which kept shifting to the hall, as though in anticipation of something.

Henry Dudley, the shortest and least comely of the brothers, and therefore the meanest tempered, clapped my shoulder as if we were the best of friends. I was pleased to discover that I now stood a head taller than he.

“How fare you, orphan?” he jibed. “You look as if you haven’t grown an inch.”

“Not where you can see,” I said, with a tight smile. Matters could be worse. I could be serving Henry Dudley, who as a boy had enjoyed drowning kittens just to hear them mewl.

“No,” spat Henry. “But even a dog can tell who its mother was. Can you?”

He eyed me, eager for a tussle. His attacks on me had always been edged with more than derision, but he wasn’t saying anything I hadn’t been subjected to before, or indeed even contemplated myself, in the loneliness of the night. I refused to rise to his bait.

“Given the chance, I rather hope I could.”

“No doubt,” sneered Guilford. “I’d say the same if I were you. Thank God I’m not.”

Robert glared at his brothers as they again burst into raucous laughter. “God’s teeth, you sound like a gaggle of women. Who cares about him? If I were you, I’d be more concerned about what’s happening around us. Just look at the council, hovering about the dais like crows.”

I followed his stare to where a group of somber men stood close together, the black of their robes blending together like ink. They were indeed gathered before a dais draped in cloth of gold. Upon it sat a large velvet-upholstered throne; overhead, hung a canopy embroidered with the Tudor Rose. It suddenly occurred to me that I might see the king himself tonight, and I felt excitement bubble up in me as I looked into the hall itself.

It was luminescent, its painted ceiling offset by a black-and-white tile floor over which nobles moved as though on an immense chessboard. In the gallery, minstrels strummed a refrain, while lesser courtiers streamed through the open doors, some moving to trestle tables laden with victuals, subtleties, and decanters; others assembled in small groups to whisper, preen, and stare.

If intrigue had a smell, Whitehall would reek of it.

I heard a footstep behind us. Turning about, I had a fleeting glance of a tall, lean figure in iron-colored satin before I bowed as low as I could.

John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, said in a quiet voice, “Ah, I see you are all here. Good. Ambrose, Henry, go attend to the council. They look in dire need of drink. Robert, I’ve just received word there is need for someone of authority to see to an urgent matter at the Tower. Pray, go and attend to it.”

Even with my head bowed I heard incredulity in Robert’s reply. “The Tower? But, I was there only this afternoon and all seemed well in order. There must be a mistake. Begging your leave, my lord father, but might I see to it later?”

“I’m afraid not,” said the duke. “As I said, the matter is urgent. We’ve imposed an early curfew tonight, and nothing can occur that might unsettle the populace.”

I could almost feel the fury emanating from Robert. With a curt bow, he said tersely, “My lord,” before he strode off.

The duke addressed his remaining son. “Guilford, find a chair by the hearth and stay there. When Their Graces of Suffolk arrive, attend to them as befits your rank. And may I suggest you be a little more circumspect tonight with your intake of wine?”

Guilford skulked off. With a pensive sigh, the duke turned his passionless black eyes to me. “Squire Prescott, rise. It’s been some time since I last saw you. How was your trip?”

I had to crane my head to meet Northumberland’s gaze.

I had been in his presence only a handful of times, his service to the king having kept him at court for most of my life, and I was struck by his imposing figure. John Dudley had retained the lean build instilled by a lifetime of military discipline, his height complimented by his knee-length brocade surcoat and tailored doublet. A thick gold chain slung across his shoulders bore testament to his wealth and success. No one would have mistaken this man for anyone other than a man of great power; few in fact would have looked beyond that to the hint of insomnia under his deep-set eyes, or the careworn lines wiring his mouth in its cropped goatee.

Recalling what Master Shelton had said about the price of absolute power, I said carefully, “My trip was uneventful, my lord. I thank you for the opportunity to be of service.”

Northumberland was looking distractedly toward the hall, as if he barely registered my words. “Well, it is not me you should thank,” he said. “I did not bring you to court. That was my lady wife’s doing, though I hardly think Robert merits the luxury of a private body servant.” He sighed, returning his gaze to me. “How old are you again?”

“I believe twenty, my lord. Or, it’s been twenty years since I came to live in your house.”

“Indeed.” His cold smile barely creased his mouth. “Perhaps that explains my wife’s persistence. You are a man now and should be allowed to prove yourself in our service.” He motioned. “Go. Attend to my son and do as he says. These are perilous times. Those who demonstrate their loyalty to us will not go unrewarded.”

I bowed low again, about to slip away when I heard the duke murmur, “We won’t forget those who betray us, either.” He didn’t look at me as he spoke. Turning away he stepped into the hall, where a palpable hush greeted his entrance.

Unnerved by his words, I moved in the direction Robert had taken, my mind in a tumult. Master Shelton had also said the Dudleys would reward my loyalty. At the time I had thought he meant they’d accept me as Shelton’s eventual successor. Now I could not shake the sudden sense that I’d been plunged into a nest of serpents, where one false step could spell my ruin. The more I considered it, the more I began to question the true reason for my summons. Unlike her husband the duke, Lady Dudley had been part of my childhood—an aloof presence I’d avoided at any cost. She’d always treated me with disdain, when she deigned to notice me at all. She never interfered even when her sons tormented me, and I always suspected she only allowed Mistress Alice to care for me because she did not want it said she’d let a founding child perish on her grounds. So why did she want me at court now, serving her son, in the midst of what seemed to be an exacting time for her family?

I was so distracted by my thoughts I did not heed my surroundings. Halfway through a corridor, an arm shot out and grabbed me about the throat. I was hauled into a closed, fetid room. The fecal-spattered hole and stomach-churning smell demonstrated the room’s function. As I staggered against a wall, I thrust out a hand to avoid fouling my clothes, reaching with my other hand to the dagger I’d stashed under my doublet.

“I could cut off your hand with my sword before you release that paltry blade.”

I turned about. A shadow stepped forth. Lord Robert seemed overwhelmingly large in the confined space. “Well?” he said. “What did my father say to you?”

I kept my voice calm. “He said I should attend to you, and do as you bid.”

He took another step forward. “And?”

“That’s all.”

Robert stepped so close, the smell of his expensive musk filled my nostrils. “You’d best be telling me the truth. If you’re not, then you’d best pray I don’t find out.” He regarded me intently. “He made no mention of Elizabeth?”

“No.” I said immediately, and then I paused as I realized whom he spoke of.

He snorted, “I don’t know why Mother bothers with you. What would you know, a simple fool from the country brought here to clean my boots?” He stepped away. I heard a flint being struck. Moments later, a taper flared in his hand. He set it on the floor. “I’ll give you this much: You haven’t learned to lie yet.” He looked at me over the wavering flame, as misshapen shadows splashed across his face. “So, my father said nothing about her?”

I recalled what I heard as we entered London, and as if a bell went off inside me I decided to feign ignorance. Looking down to my feet, I murmured, “If he had, I would tell you.”

He guffawed. “Aren’t you the meek one? I’d forgotten how good you were at fading into the background, never seeing or hearing what didn’t concern you. I understand now why Mother was so set on bringing you here. You’re truly someone who doesn’t exist.”

His sharp burst of laughter ended as abruptly as it had appeared. “Yes,” he breathed, as if to himself, “the squire who doesn’t exist. It’s perfect.”

I stayed very still. I did not like the look creeping over his face, the slow calculated malice. He rocked back on his heels. “So, tell me, what would you say if I asked you to do an errand for me tonight that could earn you your fortune?”

The thick air in the room felt like a noose about my throat, cutting off my breath.

“What?” Robert’s smile showed a hint of perfect white teeth. “Have you nothing to say? How odd—a weasel like you. I’m offering you the opportunity of a lifetime, the chance to earn your way out of service and become your own man. It is what you dream of, is it not? You don’t want to be nobody forever? Not you, not the clever little foundling. Why, I think you must be fully literate by now, what with that old monk Shelton hired. I bet he taught you Latin with one hand while buggering you with the other. Well, am I right? Can you read and write?”

I met his eyes. I nodded.

His smile turned cruel. “I thought as much. I always knew you weren’t as stupid as you’d have us think.” His tone lowered, adopting a sinister intimacy. “And I know our proud Bess will come here tonight, though my lord father pretends to know nothing.”

At these words, I could not stop the rush of excitement that went through me. So, it was true. Elizabeth Tudor was here, in London. I had witnessed her arrival.

Then I saw Robert’s expression darken. When he next spoke, his voice was tainted by a furious heat, as if I had in fact faded to nothing, an invisible being before who he needn’t measure his words. “My father promised me that when the time came, I would not be neglected. He said none was more worthy than I. But now it seems he prefers to heap honors on Guilford, and put me to do his dirty work instead. By God, I’ve done everything he asked; I even married that insipid sheep Amy Robsart because he thought it best. What more can he want from me? When will it be my turn to take what I deserve?”

I’d never heard any of the Dudley boys express anything other than conformity with their father’s wishes. It was the way of the nobility: Fathers sent their sons away to serve in influential posts and assist the family. Dudley’s sons had no will other than his, and in turn, they would reap his fortune. As far as I was concerned, Robert had no cause for complaint. He’d never known a day of hunger or want in his life; he probably never would. I had no reason to pity him; but in that moment I saw that like so many sons who feel helpless, Robert Dudley had begun to chafe against the paternal tether binding him.

“Enough!” He hit his fist into his palm. “It’s time I showed my mettle. And you, you worm—you are going to help me.” He thrust his face at me. “Unless you’d rather I sent you back to the stables for the rest of your miserable days?”

I did not speak. I knew I should prefer the stables, where life was at least predictable, but I did not. I met Robert’s stare and said, “Perhaps my lord should explain what he expects of me.”

He seemed taken aback. He glanced over his shoulder before he looked back at me. He gnawed at his lower lip, as if he had sudden doubt. Then he menaced, “If you fail me or do me wrong, I swear there isn’t a place in all England where you can hide. Do you understand me? I will find you, Prescott. And I will kill you with my bare hands.”

I did not react. Such a threat was to be expected. He had to intimidate me, ensure that I feared him enough to not betray his trust. It made me all the more curious. What did he want so desperately?

“Very well,” he said at length. “The first thing you need to know is that she’s apt to surprise you when you least expect it. I’ve known her since she was a girl, and I tell you, she likes nothing more than to set everyone around her to wondering. She delights in confusion.”

The guarded note that crept into his voice alerted me to an unspoken undercurrent. This sounded more than just a son’s bravura against his father.

“Take her arrival today, for example,” he continued. “She steals into the city without prior warning, and only once she’s reached her manor does she send word requesting leave as to when she may visit her brother, as her sister, the Lady Mary, did a few months past.” He let out a staccato laugh. “Now, there’s pure connivance, if ever I saw it. God forbid she should put herself at our mercy or that her papist sister should outdo her. And she knows we dare not refuse her, for just as she planned, rumors of her arrival run like wildfire through the city. She wants us to know no Dudley is more powerful than her.”

He spoke as if it were an elaborate game, when it was clear Elizabeth must have come to London because she’d heard rumors of her brother’s impending death. Once again I fought back the near-overwhelming sensation that I should be doing everything possible to escape this errand. Why put myself in harm’s way? Why risk becoming Lord Robert’s victim again? Inviting as it was, freedom from servitude seemed a rather remote possibility at this particular moment.

I drew in a steadying breath. “Why would she even heed me? We’ve never met.”

“She’ll heed you because I am her friend, whom she’s never had cause to doubt. She knows I am not my father. I will not play her false.” He fished under his gauntlet, tossed a ring at me. “Give her this. She will understand. But do it in private; I don’t want that busybody matron of hers, that Mistress Ashley, knowing my business. Tell her I’ve been delayed but I will send word soon, by the usual route, so we can meet alone. Tell her I will have what I was promised.”

He took a menacing step toward me. “And don’t let her out of your sight, not even if she dismisses you. I want a full accounting of her actions, from the time she enters the palace until she leaves.” He unhooked a pouch from his belt and dropped it by the taper, which was melting onto the floor. “There’ll be more if you succeed. Who knows? You could end up a rich man, Prescott. The water gate lies straight ahead. After you’ve done as I ask, feel free to enjoy yourself. Elizabeth always retires early. Find yourself a cunt. Drink. Eat till you puke. Only don’t breathe a word to anyone, and be in my chamber by the stroke of nine tomorrow.”

He unlatched the door. When I heard his footsteps fade away, I grabbed the pouch and fled from the room. As I stood gulping air in the corridor, I untied the pouch with quivering fingers. It contained more than I could imagine. A few more like this and I could buy my way to the New World, if need be.

All I had to do was deliver Lord Robert’s ring.