The Tudor Conspiracy

I knew all too well about the dangers the princesses had endured. Like Elizabeth, Mary had been targeted by John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, who ruled in Edward’s name. While the young king lay dying, Northumberland had schemed to capture the Tudor sisters and set his youngest son Guilford and daughter-in-law Jane Grey on the throne instead. He might have succeeded, too, had I not found myself thrust into the midst of his plans, unwittingly becoming one of the architects of his demise. It was how I’d first met Kate and come to serve Elizabeth; now, with Northumberland dead, his five sons imprisoned, and England celebrating Mary’s accession, Elizabeth had had no choice but to obey her sister’s summons, though, to my disconcertion, she insisted on returning to court without us.
“No, my friends,” she said. “This is hardly the time for me to appear with an entourage. I’ll attend the coronation as a loyal subject and be back here before you know it. It’s not as if Mary wants me to stay. She has enough on her platter. I’d only be a burden.”
Elizabeth had chosen only her trusted matron, Blanche Parry, to accompany her. I didn’t like it. The night before she left, I asked her again, in vain, to let me go with her, citing my fears for her safety in the cesspool of intrigue at court.
She laughed. “You forget I’ve breathed the airs of that cesspool my entire life! If I could survive Northumberland, surely there isn’t much to fear. However, I promise you that if I find need of protection, you’ll be the first person I send for.”
She left Hatfield as autumn gilded the land. With her gone, the household settled into a quiet routine. As I fought off my disquiet over her safety by dedicating myself to my studies, my sword practice, and other chores, I came to realize it wasn’t that Elizabeth had not wanted me with her, but rather that she’d known me better than I knew myself and acted in my best interests.
The truth was I wasn’t ready to return to court. I still needed time to heal.
Remembering this, I regretted my tone with Peregrine, who had helped me through so much. Keeping an arm about Kate’s waist, I motioned to him. “Come here,” I said.
He sidled forth. He had become my shadow, following me everywhere-“like an adoring pup,” Kate had remarked-as evidenced now by the appeal in his wide-eyed gaze.
“I ought to send you off to empty the bilge pit or something equally unappetizing,” I grumbled. “Haven’t you learned it’s never wise to trust a woman?”
Kate jabbed me in the rib.
“Yes,” said Peregrine. “I mean, no.”
“Well?” I arched a brow. “Which is it: yes or no?”
Kate let out a laugh. “You are impossible! Let the lad be. He has years yet to learn about the wiles of the fairer sex.” Stepping away from me, she undid the snood at her nape, releasing her auburn hair. I ruffled Peregrine’s curls. “I am indeed a brute,” I said to him. “Please, forgive me.”
Peregrine was opening his mouth to reply when Kate exclaimed, “Papa, what a surprise!” and I froze where I stood, staring toward the gallery entrance in disbelief.
Coming toward us was the last person I’d expected to see-a dapper figure in a black cloak, a satchel strapped to his shoulder. As he removed his flat black cap from his balding pate, I thought William Cecil looked younger than his thirty-three years and healthier than the last time I’d seen him. Even his russet-colored beard was free of any telltale white, and his bronzed face was a sure sign that, like me, he’d been spending much-needed time outdoors, tending to a garden or herb patch or whatever it was he did when not manipulating other people’s lives.
“I trust I do not intrude?” he said in his smooth tone. “Mistress Ashley told me I would find you here, taking your exercise.”
“You always intrude,” I heard Peregrine mutter, and I set a hand on his shoulder. Cecil’s light blue eyes glinted in amusement as he looked in the boy’s direction before he turned to Kate, who appeared uncharacteristically flustered. Though she feigned surprise, I had the distinct impression Cecil’s arrival here was not unexpected.
“My sweet Kate, it’s been too long.” Cecil embraced her. “My wife, Lady Mildred, was most concerned you might have taken ill. We were relieved to get your note.”
Note? I shot a sharp look at Kate as she hugged Cecil in return. She had every right to, after all. She had become his ward upon her mother’s death, raised in the Cecil household by him and his wife. Why shouldn’t she have written to him? Only, she had not mentioned it to me, though she knew how I felt about this man. She had not contended with him as I had, when he had served Northumberland as his private secretary and lured me to spy against the Dudley family. She had not learned that her beloved guardian had several faces, none of which could be fully trusted.
“I’m so sorry to have worried you and Lady Mildred,” Kate now said. “I’ve wanted to visit, but-” She turned to me, taking my hand in hers. Cecil glanced down with apparent indifference at our clasped fingers, though he could hardly have missed the inference. “Time just got away from us,” Kate went on. “Didn’t it, Brendan?” She smiled at me. “Lately it seems we haven’t enough hours in the day. The house always need so much work.”
“I can imagine it,” Cecil said. “And I don’t wish to be an imposition, though I was hoping to stay for supper. I brought a meat pie and jar of honey. I left them with Mistress Ashley.” He smiled warmly at Kate. “I remembered how you used to love honey from our hives when you were a girl.”
“Oh, how kind of you! Yes, I’ll see to it at once.” Kate glanced again at me; my stomach knotted. It took all I could muster to say dryly, “Indeed. How could we refuse?”
Cecil met my gaze. He hadn’t missed the undertone in my voice. I already knew there was more to his visit than mere worry over Kate’s health.
“A moment, if you will,” I said to him, and I guided Kate a short distance away, leaving Peregrine to glare at Cecil. In a taut voice, I asked her, “What is this about? Why is he here? And why didn’t you tell me he was coming?”
“Just heed him,” Kate said. “It’s important.”
I went still. “Is it about…?”
“Yes.” She put a finger to my lips, preempting my eruption. “You can berate me later, but for now I’ll leave you two alone so I can see to supper. Try not to hit him, yes?” She turned about with a bright smile, gesturing to Peregrine. As she herded him out, Peregrine glared over his shoulder at Cecil.
“Judging by the look on your face, and your little friend’s reaction, I assume you’d rather I wasn’t here,” he remarked.
“And I see you haven’t lost your acuity. What do you want?”
He smiled, moving to the window seat. “You’re looking fit,” he said. “You’ve put on weight. The air here at Hatfield suits you, it seems.”
“Better than the court,” I replied. I concentrated on keeping an impassive stance. Cecil was an expert dissimulator; he knew how to get under my skin. I could already sense him gauging me, assessing how this time of seclusion, of early mornings and earlier nights, had transformed me so that I no longer resembled the callow youth he’d lured into informing against the Dudleys. “You haven’t answered my question,” I said.
“I came to see you.” He sat. “Kate sent me a note, but I wrote to her first. I told her I had important news to impart. She returned word that I should present myself.”
“You could have written to me.”
“Yes, I could have. But would you have replied?”
“Depends.” I eyed him. “You still haven’t answered my question.”
To his credit, Cecil looked discomfited. “I would not have come were it not a matter of urgency, I assure you. I’ve no desire to cause you any more trouble than I already have.”
“Is that so?” I asked, and as we faced each other for the first time since the tumultuous events that had first brought us together, I reflected on the irony that two such antithetical men could hide such powerful secrets about each other. For only I knew how ruthlessly Cecil had acted to destroy his former master, Northumberland, and protect Elizabeth, just as only Cecil knew the truth of who I was.