"I'm afraid I don't understand," I said.

"No. Why would you?" He had a stack of ledgers to his left, an inkwell rimmed in jewels to his right. "I, on the other hand, am in a position to know a great many things. And what I don't know, my intelligencers find out for me. You'd be astonished at what can be bought for the price of a meal these days." He met my stare. "Does my candor surprise you?"

Play the fool. Play it for all it is worth.

"I'm wondering what any of this has to do with me."

He chuckled. "I should think a clever boy like you will figure it out. It's not every day you gain Elizabeth Tudor's notice. Indeed, I look for those with your unique talents."

I absorbed this in silence. Just when I thought matters couldn't get any worse, here I was about to get another offer of employment. No use acting the bewildered rube now.

"What exactly are you saying?"

"Put simply? I wish to hire you. It's a lucrative offer, I can a.s.sure you. I require someone fresh, outwardly ingenuous, and somewhat forgettable, at least to the undiscerning eye, yet capable of engendering trust even in those as skeptical as the princess. You did offer to help her last night? She told me so herself. If you agree to work for me, then you will be helping her, in more ways than you can imagine."

The tightening in my stomach forewarned me not to show my sudden, burning interest. However I proceeded, I'd best do it very carefully. This could be a trick. It probably was a trick. How could it be anything else? As talented as I might be, I was certainly no spy.

"Why me? I don't have any training as an... intelligencer."

"No. But what you don't know, you can learn. It's your instinct that cannot be taught. I should know. I possess it myself. Believe me, it's more valuable than you realize."

"And on a more practical note, I serve Robert Dudley," I said. "Who trusted me enough to give me a private message for the princess, yes?"

"Indeed. I need to know what he wants from her. Her life may depend on it."

"Her life?"

"Yes. I have reason to think the duke plots against her, and that Lord Robert, your master, is a part of his scheme. It wouldn't be the first time they've pretended to be at odds while secretly working in conjunction to bring down an opponent."

It was was a trick. I wasn't here for my hidden talents: I was here because I served Lord Robert. Elizabeth had not revealed my message. That was why Cecil had me dragged here with a sack over my head. He wanted my message, and the moment I confessed it I would be silenced. a trick. I wasn't here for my hidden talents: I was here because I served Lord Robert. Elizabeth had not revealed my message. That was why Cecil had me dragged here with a sack over my head. He wanted my message, and the moment I confessed it I would be silenced.

Forever.

"I regret to hear that," I managed to say, resisting the urge to start shouting, thinking it would be better to die fighting than accept whatever demise Cecil prepared for me. "But as my lord secretary must know, a servant who betrays his master risks having his ears and tongue cut off." I forced out a weak laugh. "And I'm fond of mine."

"You've already betrayed him. You just don't know it."

It was a statement, brisk and impersonal. Though nothing overt changed in his manner, he abruptly exuded a calm menace. "Regardless of how you choose to act, your days as a Dudley servant are numbered. Or do you think they'll keep you after they obtain what they want? Lord Robert used you as his errand boy, and his father and mother despise loose ends."

He bears the mark of the rose.

I saw again the d.u.c.h.ess of Suffolk, her metallic eyes staring through me, into me.

"Are you saying they'll kill me?" I asked.

"I am, though of course I have no concrete proof of it."

"And you can offer me a.s.surance that if I leave their service for yours, I'll be safe?"

"Not exactly." He folded his hands at his bearded chin. "Are you interested?"

I met his regard. "You certainly have my attention."

He inclined his head. "Let me start by saying that the duke and his family are in a precarious situation. They were not prepared for Her Grace to appear at court. None of us were, in truth. Yet there she was, determined to see her brother, and so she must be dealt with. She took precautions by letting news of her presence leak out to the people, which will provide her some measure of protection, at least in the short term. But she makes a grave mistake in a.s.suming the duke will do her no harm. She's so incensed by what she sees as his refusal to let her speak with her brother the king, now she insists on proceeding to Greenwich and ascertaining His Majesty's recovery for herself."

Cecil gave a regretful smile. It looked unsettling on his face, as if he didn't quite ever feel surprised by anything Elizabeth Tudor did. "She's not easily dissuaded once she sets her mind to something, and Northumberland has been thorough. Edward's absence last night roused her deepest suspicions and her anger, as he no doubt hoped it would. She is a devoted sister. Too devoted, some might say. She will never stop until she finds out the truth. And that is what I fear: You see, though we may seek it, the truth is rarely what we hope for."

I found myself perched on the edge of my chair. "You think the duke has...?" I couldn't say the rest aloud. I saw in my mind the inscrutable look in Northumberland's eyes and heard his strange murmur, which suddenly adopted a more sinister overtone.

We won't forget those who betray us.

"I wish I knew," said Cecil. "When Edward suffered a relapse, the duke ordered him sequestered, with all access to his person denied. Who can say what has happened? At the very least, I do suspect he is far more ill than any of us know. Why else would Northumberland have taken such pains to announce his recovery, even as he sent Lord Robert to oversee the munitions in the Tower and the manning of every gate in and out of London? Even if Her Grace could be persuaded to return to Hatfield, she'd find her way barred. Not that she will. She believes the duke is holding her brother against his will. If that is true, there is, I fear, very little we can do for the king. My main concern is that she not be lured into the same trap."

It was the first time since Mistress Alice's death that someone had spoken to me as an equal, and the trust it implied went a long way to easing my doubts. I had to remind myself that duplicity at court was endemic. Not even Cecil could be immune.

"Have you told her of your concerns?" I asked, and as I spoke I recalled her stinging admonishments last night. Clearly, Elizabeth wasn't one to take his caution to heart.

He sighed. "Repeatedly, to no avail. She must see Edward, she says, if it's the last thing she does. That's why I need you. I must have irrefutable proof the Dudleys work against her."

My hands tightened in my lap. All of a sudden I didn't want to hear anymore. I didn't want to be forced across a threshold that only last night, in her presence, I'd willingly have crossed. The danger he described was beyond anything I felt I could contend with. To risk myself like this would be to ensure my own death.

Yet even as I prepared my defense and refusal, a part of me could no longer be denied. I felt a transformation taking place, quite against my better nature. I was no longer an anonymous squire, determined to better my lot. I wanted more, to be a part of something bigger than my own self. It was inexplicable, disconcerting, even terrifying, but there was no escaping it.

"Her Grace means everything to me," Cecil added, and I heard in his voice that he, too, had felt her power. "But more importantly, she means everything to England. She is our last hope. Edward became a king too young and has been under the thrall of his so-called protectors ever since. Now, he might be dying. Should Her Grace fall into the duke's hands, it will destroy what those of us who love England have strived for-a united nation, invincible against the depredations of France and Spain. The duke knows this; he knows how important she is. And if he is to survive, he must have her under his control. But what can he offer her that will guarantee her partic.i.p.ation in whatever he plans?"

He paused, his pale blue eyes focused on me.

I had to stop my hand from moving to my doublet. The ring. Robert had given me his ring. He said he would have what he'd been promised.

"It's... it is not possible," I said in a whisper. "Lord Robert already has a wife."

Cecil smiled. "My dear boy, one need only look to Henry the Eighth to see how easily wives can be disposed of. Robert's marriage to Amy Robsart was a mistake he must have come to regret almost as much as his father did. She's a country squire's daughter, and the duke would have higher rewards for his sons. If he could persuade the council to approve Guilford's union with Jane Grey, why not Robert's to the princess? It would be the ultimate coup, the feather in the collective Dudley cap, not to mention the means to secure his rule. For, make no mistake, the duke rules England. He has ever since he saw the Lord Protector beheaded and gained control of Edward's person."

The ring in my pocket felt twice its weight. The very thought was insane, and yet it fit with everything I'd expect of the Dudleys. What had Robert said? Give her this. She will understand Give her this. She will understand. Had she understood? Was that why she refused to take it? Because she knew what it represented? Or did she, in a secret place in her heart not even she dared admit, fear fear it? I had seen the look on her face; she had said she was no stranger to longing. She had a depth of pa.s.sion no one had yet plumbed. Maybe she wanted Robert Dudley as much as he wanted her. it? I had seen the look on her face; she had said she was no stranger to longing. She had a depth of pa.s.sion no one had yet plumbed. Maybe she wanted Robert Dudley as much as he wanted her.

I made myself breathe. This was happening too quickly. I had to concentrate on what I knew and what I had heard. "But Her Grace and the king-they have an elder half sister, the Lady Mary. She is heir to the throne. If Her Grace were to wed Lord Robert, she still couldn't be queen unless..."

My voice faded into silence. I heard a fly buzzing over the platter of neglected fruit on the sideboard. I could barely contemplate where my own words had led.

"Now, do you see?" said Cecil softly. "You can learn, and quickly. Yes, the Lady Mary is next in line to the throne. But she is also an avowed Catholic, who has resisted every attempt to persuade her to convert, and England will never stomach Rome in our business again. Her Grace, on the other hand, was born and raised in the Reformed Faith. She is also seventeen years younger than Mary and can most certainly produce a male heir. The people would rather see her on the throne than her papist sister. And that, my boy, is what the duke can offer her: England itself. It's a temptation very few can resist."

I reached for my goblet, took a long draught. Religion. The eternal bone of contention. People died for it. I'd seen their heads displayed on the gates of London at the duke's command.

Was he capable of doing the same to a princess? For that was what Cecil implied. In order for Elizabeth to inherit, Mary must be dead. I couldn't pretend to know the inner workings of a man I'd seen a half dozen times at most, whose values were far removed from my own. Was he capable of it? I wouldn't think he'd shy away, if it came to his own survival. Still, something here troubled me, an a.s.sumption it took me a few seconds to disentangle and put into words. Once I did, I stated it bluntly, with conviction.

"Her Grace would never condone it, not if it meant the murder of her own sister."

"No," said Cecil, to my relief. "She and Mary have never been close, but you are right. She'd never let herself become embroiled in treason, at least not willingly. It is, I hope, the one fatal flaw in the duke's plan. He underestimates her. He always has. She would have the throne, but only when, or if, her time comes."

So, it was treason. The Dudleys plotted treason-against the king and his two sisters. I heard Elizabeth as though her lips were at my ear.

I'd not wish to be a.s.sociated with their name, then, not when men have lost their heads for far less.

She had warned me. She wasn't leaving London to return to her country manor, because she had divined what the duke intended and she didn't want lives endangered for her sake. She'd come to court fully aware of what she risked.

I took out the ring. "Robert wanted me to deliver this. She wouldn't take it. He doesn't know yet."

Cecil let out a long breath. "Thank G.o.d." His smile had no warmth in it. "Your master has overstepped himself. I'm quite sure his father would not have wanted quite so blatant a gesture. This must be in part why Her Grace has insisted on staying. Now that she knows Robert's ploy, she will try to exploit it to reach her brother." He regarded me. "I wish you had more time to consider, but as you can surmise, time is the one commodity we lack. We may have only a few days remaining in which to save her."

I glanced toward the window. I saw a woman enter the garden, leading a limping child by the hand. She smiled as the boy pointed to something I couldn't see on the river, perhaps a pa.s.sing boat or flock of swans. She bent over to kiss his cheek, tucking a stray curl under his cap.

Desolation opened in me. I was reminded in that moment of Mistress Alice and, less tenderly, of Master Shelton. The steward would never forgive me for what he could only deem as a betrayal of the family that had kept me alive. But Alice would have understood. Of all the lessons she had instilled in me, the one closest to my heart was being true to one's self.

But I'd never had the opportunity to exercise that truth. A foundling and probable b.a.s.t.a.r.d, a servant with nothing to my name, I had spent my life struggling to survive. I had never looked beyond the demands of the day, except when it came to studying, and that was just so I could get better at surviving. Still, I couldn't deny that I craved the freedom to make my own destiny, to become the man I wanted to be, not the one my birth condemned me to.

I returned my gaze to Cecil. "What is it you want of me?"

He smiled. "Perhaps the question should be: What do you want? I should think that at the least you'll expect to be paid."

I knew what I wanted. What I didn't know was whether I should trust him with it, even if the situation told me I couldn't trust anyone else. The question burned inside me unspoken, demanding an answer I wasn't sure I should seek. What had he said?

The truth is rarely what we hope for....

I wondered if he was right.

"You needn't decide right now," Cecil said. "For now, I can promise you freedom from drudgery for the rest of your days, as well as a permanent post in my service." He reached for a ledger. A brief silence ensued. Then he said with uncanny insight, "In my experience, however, men usually hunger for more than material appeas.e.m.e.nt. Do you? Hunger, that is?"

He looked up. I wondered if he saw my hesitation. I recalled again the words that had pa.s.sed between Lady Dudley and the d.u.c.h.ess of Suffolk. There was a truth there, tangled and twisted. But I found I couldn't speak of it. I couldn't entrust everything to this man. In the final say, he was still a stranger to me.

When he next spoke, his voice was low. "I make it my duty to study those who cross my path, and you are someone who carries a secret. You hide it well, but I can see it. And if I can, so will others. Take care to guard yourself, lest one day it's used against you when you least expect it."

He paused. "I should also tell you that my role in this matter must remain anonymous," he added. "The princess's safety must come first, above all else. It goes without saying that you must also follow my orders without deviation or question. Do you understand? Any change you make could put you, and consequently our plan, in danger. You are not the only one working to save her. You will have to learn to trust even those whom you do not like or know."

I took a deep breath. "I understand."

"Good. For now, you will continue to attend Lord Robert. Watch everything he says and does. You will be advised of how to report your information when the time comes, as well as any changes in our plans." From his stack of ledgers he took a folder. He opened it before me. "Herein is a scaled map of Greenwich. Memorize it. I'm not certain when, but I believe that at some time during the festivities for Guilford and Lady Jane's wedding, the duke will make his move. Before he does, we must get the princess away."

I nodded and leaned in, surveying the map as Cecil explained my a.s.signment.

Chapter Eleven.

I left the Thames-side manor in a daze. The sounds and sights of the city a.s.saulted me, reminding me I was late for my appointment with Robert. I quickened my pace. Cecil had a.s.sured me the palace wasn't too far away. He even offered an escort, which I politely refused. The less I saw of Walsingham and his rough men, the better.

The sun drew random fingers of light over the river. An oppressive humidity hung in the air. The day promised to be sweltering, once the freshness of the morning dissipated, and merchants and vendors were already hurrying about their business.

No one seemed to mark me as I pa.s.sed, and still I pulled my cap lower on my brow. I was all too aware of the badge on my sleeve, announcing my affiliation, and it required strength of will not to rip it off. I'd have to learn to conceal my revulsion for the Dudleys if I was to convince Robert of my continuing devotion.

A spy: I was going to spy for Master Cecil, to help Princess Elizabeth. It wasn't a role I could ever have envisioned for myself, even in my wildest moments. Only yesterday I had been riding into London, a callow lad pondering how best to adapt to my new post. One day later, I was returning to my master with treachery in my heart. I found it difficult to sort out my feelings about my own duplicity, until I thought of that frightened young woman standing alone in a corridor in her wine-spattered gown.

What is it you want of me, my gallant squire?

I had traversed several crowded, noisy blocks when I realized I was being followed. Once or twice, I caught a glimpse of the shadow behind me and had to resist the impulse to wheel about to confront it. I set my hand on my dagger, now at my hip. With a taut smile I continued, avoiding the dense undergrowth and trees of the hunting park. Rounding into King Street, which pa.s.sed under a gateway through Whitehall, I paused to adjust my cap. When I felt the shadow draw close, I said, "Some fool courts a knife in his belly."

A stricken pause followed. I glanced over my shoulder. "Why are you dodging me?" I asked, and flush-faced Peregrine replied, "You... because you needed my protection."

"I see. So you witnessed the attack." I hooked my hands in my belt. "You might have called for help. Or, better yet, gone and fetched some. Or didn't I pay you enough?"

"I was going to, at first," he said in a rush, "but I decided to follow you instead, in case they hit you over the head and threw you in the river. I used to fish out corpses for a living. You're lucky I did, too, because I wasn't alone."

"Oh?" I raised my eyes to scan the vicinity. "Someone fished out corpses with you?"

"No." He sidled up to me, his voice lowering to an urgent whisper. "Someone else is following you. I saw him come out of the trees in the park after you were taken. He crept around the manor while you were inside, peeking in windows and-Ouch!" Peregrine yelped as I grabbed him by his jerkin, thrusting him into a side alley.

He struggled. I clamped a hand to his mouth. "Be still, c.o.xcomb. Whoever you saw back there could be watching at this very moment. Do you want us both to end up in the river?"

His eyes widened. Removing my hand, keeping one eye on the alley's entrance, I said, "Do you know who he is?"

He nodded, and wormed out from inside his jerkin a pocket dagger. I had to grin. I'd had one just like it when I was a boy, good for slicing apples and hunting squirrel. "Does he know you?"

"No. Or, at least, not by name. He came to the stables a few days ago, but I didn't attend him. He had two horses stalled. He's wearing a hood and cloak today, but I recognized him. When he left the stables, he kicked one of the yard mutts. It was just wagging its tail, hoping to be petted, and he kicked it." Peregrine grimaced. "I hate anyone who kicks a dog."

"Me, too." I took off my cap, wiped cold sweat from my brow. Our mystery man hadn't accosted us, though the alleyway, snaking as it did to a dead end littered with refuse, presented the ideal spot for an ambush. Either he wasn't willing to reveal himself or he wasn't yet ready to risk a confrontation. Neither offered consolation.

I opened my pouch to ladle coins into Peregrine's palm. "Listen closely. I can't afford to play right now, much as I'd like to. I a.s.sume your work can be neglected, seeing as you followed me here, so can you find out where he goes without getting into trouble?"

"I've been tiptoeing around him all morning. I'll find out everything you need to know. Trust me. I can be sly as a snake when I want to."

"Oh, I'm sure. Here's what we'll do." I explained quickly, then clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder and hauled him back to the street, where I threw him from my side.

"And don't let me see the likes of you again! Next time, I'll feed you to my pigs, you thieving knave!"

Peregrine scampered off. Several pa.s.sersby paused to wag their heads at this evidence of roguery in their midst. I searched my doublet in visible anger, slapped on my cap, and tramped onward, scowling like a man who's narrowly escaped having his hard-earned wages filched.

I was relieved to reach Whitehall. The main courtyard was full of servants and chamberlains, and I discreetly asked one for directions to the Dudley chamber.

Despite my determination to help the princess and despite Cecil's explicit trust, I hadn't been convinced I could look Lord Robert in the face and not give myself away. It was one thing to despise him for using me, quite another to know I had to show an impenetrable front to keep him from achieving his ends. And knowing I was being followed had only added fear to my already extreme case of nerves. If whoever it was had discovered my meeting with Cecil, I thought it safe to a.s.sume the intent was not benevolent. Not only was Elizabeth's safety and that of her sister, Princess Mary, at stake, but my own life could hinge on my ability to complete this task. All I needed to do for the moment, I kept telling myself, was to convince Robert his cause was not lost, only delayed by feminine caprice. As for what came after, given recent events, I thought it best not to look too far ahead.

Inhaling a deep breath, I threw open the chamber door, my excuse ready on my lips.

The room was empty. Only the stripped bed frame and scarred central table remained. On this table were thrown my saddlebag and cloak.

"Finally," a voice said from behind me. I spun about.