A Symphony of Echoes (The Chronicles of St Mary's, #2)

Shit. This is what happens if you try to combine two missions. But we weren’t finished yet.

‘Tim, get everyone away. Non-essential personnel to go now. Strip the house and get to the pods. Don’t wait for me. That’s an order.

‘Chief, keep trying Guthrie. Find him. I’m not kidding, guys. If we’re still alive in half an hour, it’ll only be by some miracle. Get out now. I’m on my way back, but don’t wait for me. Maxwell out.’

Right, that was them sorted. Now to get myself out safely. I paused at the head of the stairs and looked back over my shoulder. Silence. Not a sound. What was going on in there? Did she still think she was with Sir Richard Hampton? Had Bothwell knocked her unconscious before raping her? Were they going at it like mink? Was she struggling for her life and the screaming could start any minute now? How long before she was missed? How long before she was discovered?

I can’t tell you how it felt to walk slowly and carefully down the stairs. I had folded my cloak again and carried it carefully in front of me across my arms like some precious relic. Everyone had seen me presented to the queen. I hoped to God they would think I was conveying her garment somewhere with all the care and reverence such a task warranted. They had to. It was going to be my way out.

But not if I ran. Not if I gave way to the all-consuming urge to run. To run like hell. To pick up my skirts and bolt along corridors and down stairways, past groups of chattering courtiers, past stony-faced guards, to erupt into the cool evening air and run for my life to Canongate, friends, and safety.

I made myself walk even more slowly, my face calm and pleasant, telling myself that each step took me further away from that chamber and nearer to escape. Every passageway seemed endless. Every dark corner held some nameless danger. Every shadow concealed a threat. The afternoon had darkened as the weather worsened. To me, the palace had taken on an air of menace and I was wandering an enormous labyrinth. Ariadne without her thread.

A door slammed behind me and a voice was raised in reproof. I stopped dead and waited for my heart to catch up with me. It had leapt from my chest and was over by the wall somewhere.

I took a precious moment to slow my breathing, lifted my chin and continued the slow, self-important walk of a lady carrying out an important task for the queen. I threaded my way carefully through the groups of people. I looked down my nose, careful not to catch anyone’s eye but not avoiding eye contact either. It was taking a long time to get out. In fact, it seemed to be taking for ever, but I’d taken the long route, through more private areas of the palace, and hoped to come out somewhere quiet, from where I could easily slip away.

It seemed to be working. I could feel cool, damp air in my face. I was nearly there. I shook out the cloak, swung it around my shoulders and walked slowly towards the open doors.

At last, I was outside. Where my luck immediately ran out. The storm was upon us. It was hurling down rain; great sheets of it plummeting out of the darkness, slanting through weak beams of light and bouncing off the cobbles to knee height. The noise was deafening. I looked around the packed and heaving courtyard. Steaming horses were being led away. Anxious, drenched, impatient messengers ran back and forth, shouting as they went. It seemed chaotic but there was order when you observed closely. Bad weather notwithstanding, enormous numbers of people were being shunted to where they needed to be.

Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, I stood back, swallowed down my anxiety and considered. I was almost the only woman there and certainly the only one not a maidservant. Soon, I would be drawing attention and even if I managed to get away, people would remember me. I needed to be gone as soon as possible and every instinct I possessed was shrieking to get out of there, but it was vital I did not draw attention to myself. There were whole platoons of guards around the place whose sole responsibility was the safety of the queen and one false move from me would set them off.

I was looking out at the courtyard, but all my attention was behind me. I couldn’t believe the screaming hadn’t started yet. At every second, I expected to hear voices raised in urgent command, clattering feet, slamming doors. I had to go. Rain or no rain, I had to go now. Running would attract attention. Even going out in this downpour would attract attention, but I had no choice. The alarm could be raised any minute now and I must not be trapped here.