Day of Wrath (13 page)

‘Then I am mistaken. This isn't England. Master Cromwell, there's no doubt you make a brilliant administrator, but I wouldn't be in your shoes when the day comes that you can no longer please the King. And when you face your Maker, there will be no monks to pray for your soul.'

‘I'll take the risk, my Lord. I'll take the risk.'

Chapter Nine

Early on Monday morning, Nicholas picked up Harry at the Three Horseshoes in Petworth and rode the last lap of the journey. Harry had been well fed and well treated at the inn where Nicholas was a regular visitor, and took the steep climb up Duncton Hill with nonchalant ease. At the top, Nicholas reined him in and paused to look across the flat coastal plain towards the sea, which shimmered on the horizon like a silver girdle. The early morning mist had cleared and he could see the spire of Marchester Cathedral and the five inlets of Marchester harbour stretched out like a giant's hand. This was his county, the county which his ancestors had settled in and served for four hundred years. The soil was fertile, the climate temperate, the sea teeming with fish and its people easy-going and prosperous. It was difficult to believe that anyone should contemplate treason here, but two men had been arrested and he felt sure others would follow.

Harry took the last few miles in his stride, and Nicholas was home by mid-morning. This time Geoffrey Lowe was ready for him and opened the main gate as soon as he heard him arrive. Simon led Harry away and Nicholas walked across the courtyard towards the house with Geoffrey, who looked very worried.

‘What's up, Geoffrey? You look like a man going to a funeral. Cheer up and get me some ale, and a cut of beef, if you please. I've had a long night and only a couple of hours' sleep.'

‘It's ready and waiting, my Lord. We were expecting you. Have you heard the dreadful news? Sir Roger's been arrested and carted off to London, him and his wife. We've all been knocked for six. Prior Thomas is hopping mad and says they've all made a horrible mistake. Fitzroy's come over from Arundel and put one of his stewards in Sir Roger's house, and the cook's going raving mad up there trying to please them all. Are you all right, sir? No chance of them coming to arrest you?'

‘Not if I can help it. Yes, I know all about Mortimer. I'll get over to the Lodge as soon as I've sorted things out here. What's happened to his children?'

‘They've gone off to Lady Margot's relations. Such a shrieking and a yelling, it was awful to see and I hope I never have to see it again. It's a terrible thing, sir, when children are torn away from their parents like that.'

A corner of the table in the main hall had been laid with a plate and a knife and Geoffrey filled the pewter tankard with ale and fetched cold beef and bread from the kitchen. Nicholas ate and drank quickly. Then he pushed his plate away and looked round the room. Despite the fire burning in the massive fireplace, the room felt chill and looked dark and gloomy. Why was it that, since Mary died, his house felt like a prison and not like a comfortable home? There was work to be done and not long to do it in.

‘You've done well, Geoffrey, whilst I've been away. Keeping house isn't bailiff's work, is it?'

‘I've tried to keep things ticking over now that Matthew's gone to God.'

‘We'll have to get extra hands, Geoffrey. This place needs cleaning up, those windows are filthy. We've got to get beds aired, cellars stocked up, food brought in and lambs selected for the table.'

‘Are you expecting guests, sir?' said Geoffrey, staring at Nicholas in horror.

‘Yes, and soon. There's a lot to do.'

‘May I ask who's coming, sir?'

‘Let us just say some very important guests. They'll only be staying for a couple of nights, with any luck, but they'll expect a feast, and God help us, they'll probably want to go hunting.'

‘Sir, we haven't the servants, we haven't a steward…'

‘Don't worry, they'll be sending their own steward to give us a hand. You'll only have to hire servants, scullions, chambermaids, a cook, that sort of thing.'

‘Lord help us,' said Geoffrey aghast. ‘How many people are coming?'

‘I don't know. About fifty, I suppose. Most of them can sleep up in the attic. We'll need extra beds brought in. The Prior'll help us out, I'm sure. Now, Geoffrey, one serious word. I don't want all this spread around the county, do you hear? Complete secrecy.'

‘I'll do my best, sir, but when it gets to hiring servants and all the comings and goings up here, word's bound to get around. I'll not say a word, but I can't stop folk noticing.'

‘Get servants you can trust. Start with people you know. Your own family for a start. They live in Marchester, isn't that right? Tell them it's vital they say nothing.'

‘I'll certainly go and see them. But I can't guarantee they won't talk. How long have we got, sir, to get this place sorted out?'

‘Two weeks. Maybe less.'

‘God help us, sir.'

‘Amen to that. Now let's get started. How many servants have we got at this moment?'

‘I don't rightly know, sir. My job's with the field workers.'

‘Well, you'll have to muster them together and allocate jobs until the steward comes and takes over. Cleaning first. Provisioning later.'

‘Does this steward come from London, sir?'

‘I've no idea. I suppose so. Don't worry, he'll know what's wanted.'

‘I'm sure he will, but I'm not sure that I can take orders from a Londoner.'

‘Oh get away with you, man, what does it matter where he comes from?'

At that moment, Simon, one of the grooms, came in, and came over to Nicholas.

‘Mistress Warrener's here, sir. She says she wants to see you urgently, and she'll be waiting for you in the herb garden.'

‘Now how did she know I'm here? I've only been back less than an hour.'

Simon looked astonished. ‘Word gets round, sir. They all know you're back.'

*   *   *

She was standing by the wild rosebush and he watched as she leaned forward and buried her face in the delicate blooms. Suddenly she noticed him, her face flushed, and she studied the rose even more closely.

‘So the King's dismissed you,' she said, without looking at him.

‘For the moment, yes. And I can't tell you how pleased I am to be home. There's no joy being at Court. It's a place of intrigue, everyone out for what he can get. No one has friends at Court. Everyone's a rival. My heart is here, Jane, and at this moment it's in this garden. How well you look and how beautifully you set off my roses.'

‘This isn't the time for compliments, Lord Nicholas. So much has happened since you went away. You've no doubt heard of Sir Roger's arrest?'

‘The King himself told me.'

‘Is it really true, then what they say? Is he a traitor?'

‘Come over here and sit beside me on this bench, Jane. Do you remember once, not so long ago, you called me Nicholas? And that's how I like it. There's so much to tell you. But first, I must have your solemn word that whatever I tell you will go no further. Pretend we are now standing in a court of law and you are asked to swear on the Holy Bible that you will never repeat our conversations to anyone. We live in desperate times. Mortimer's gone. Anyone could be next. Last week you said you wanted to be my ears and eyes. Do you still mean that? Can I count on your absolute discretion and your complete loyalty to the King? Swear to it, Jane, because I shall need your loyal partnership.'

They walked over to the wooden bench set beside a bed of lavender, and sat down. The scent filled the air with its relaxing fragrance and the endless drone of the bees was soothing. So peaceful, he thought, but he must not be lulled into a false sense of security. This house, this garden, could all be swept away if once the King's suspicions were aroused. It had happened to Wolsey, to Mortimer; it could certainly happen to him.

He waited for Jane's answer. It felt strange talking to a woman like this. Mary, his wife, had never once asked about affairs of state. Other women, like Lady Frances Bonville, cared only about dalliance and ensnaring a wealthy man to provide her with a great household. But Jane was different. She was intelligent, quick to learn, and compassionate, as her devotion to that old devil of a father proved.

Suddenly Jane swung round and faced him. ‘Yes, I swear that I am loyal to the King and I will never repeat any of our conversations. The King is not infallible, but he keeps this country safe from the civil wars that so plagued us only fifty years ago. And if you remember it was I who told you about the conspiracy called Day of Wrath. You didn't believe me then, but I think you do now. Would I have reported all this if I wasn't loyal?'

‘I see now that I should never have doubted you. The King knew all along about Mortimer's correspondence with Reginald Pole. His letters were intercepted by the Earl of Southampton, the King's Admiral of the Fleet. The King and Cromwell are ahead in the game; and they have to be. They have a network of spies throughout the country, and as long as there are any descendants of the Yorkist King Edward IV alive and people think they have a better claim to the throne than the Tudors, there will always be conspiracies. The evidence against Sir Roger is overwhelming. Now we have to wait for him to name names, which he will do after interrogation, unless he's a man of superhuman courage.'

She shuddered and he longed to put his arms round her, but if she was to be his ally then there had to be a professional distance between them.

‘Are you sure you want to be involved in all this, Jane? Treason is a nasty business. The penalties, if someone is found guilty, are unspeakable. Just say you don't want to go on with this, and I'll stop and then I can listen to your sweet voice and gaze at your beauty and enjoy your company.'

‘We made an agreement, Nicholas, and I'm not going back now. But tell me one thing, why did they take away Lady Margot?'

‘She comes from a Yorkist family, and they will use her to try and persuade her husband to give the names of his accomplices.'

She didn't flinch. ‘And his children?'

‘They will be safe with Lady Margot's relations.'

‘And his house?'

‘Confiscated. Fitzroy will put in one of his own stewards to keep the place running until the King decides what to do with it. It's not impossible that Lady Margot and her children will be reinstated. The King is not a monster. Once he's satisfied that the Day of Wrath is well and truly stamped out, he could be amenable to persuasion.'

‘And was I right about Matthew? Was he murdered because he heard too much?'

‘Mortimer ordered his death. Giles Yelman was under orders to open my gate to the murderers and showed them where to find Matthew. It had all been arranged.'

‘How did you find out about Giles?'

‘From the King, of course. The Sheriff picked him up on the Portsmouth road last Thursday night and he confessed before he was interrogated at Lewes.'

‘Why do people get involved in conspiracy? Giles had everything going for him.'

‘Giles was tempted by money and the promise of advancement. Mortimer believed he was doing the right thing. He wanted someone on the throne of England who was loyal to the Pope. He wanted to turn the clock back and the Pole family are the nearest Yorkist claimants and devoted to the traditional faith. But this is all over now, Jane. The conspiracy is broken. We can all sleep safely in our beds.'

‘Then why did Bess Knowles die? You didn't know that, Nicholas, did you? She died on Saturday morning after Mortimer was arrested. She lies now in St John's chapel at the Priory, waiting to join Matthew tomorrow.'

Nicholas stared at her in horror. ‘Jane, what are you saying? Bess dead? How? Why?'

‘We don't know, that's the long and short of it. The Coroner thinks she died from natural causes. She was carrying Matthew's child and they say that the shock of Matthew's death badly affected the unborn child, and Bess's heart gave up. But I don't believe this. Bess was young and strong, and wanted this child. Yet slowly, over the last few days she slipped away from us. She wouldn't eat a thing, and we thought she was grieving for Matthew, but people don't usually die of grief. Finally, she was too weak to get out of bed and we found her dead on Saturday morning. I think that whoever wanted Matthew out of the way wanted Bess out of the way too. But they took longer about killing her.'

‘But why should anyone want to kill her? She's a woman.'

Jane gave him a withering look. ‘Women can see and hear and talk, Lord Nicholas. We're human beings.'

‘Jane, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Only that to kill a woman seems unbelievably wicked. Let me make this quite clear. I have a high regard for women, I love them, they think clearly, but I don't think they're interested in politics, and I hardly imagine Bess would talk to all and sundry about what she overheard with Matthew.'

‘You mean she wouldn't have understood what she heard?'

‘No, of course not. Don't twist my words. Not all women are as sharp as you, Jane. You're a one-off.'

‘Thanks. That makes me a freak. I must say, Lord Nicholas, diplomacy's hardly your strong point. But the fact is, Bess is dead. She took a long time to die.'

‘That suggests she was poisoned, or her body wasn't strong enough to bear the child. Some women don't take kindly to carrying children,' he said, thinking of Mary's troubled pregnancy.

‘Nicholas,' said Jane, suddenly serious, ‘Bess was as strong as a horse, and wanted that child. I think she could have been poisoned, but she didn't eat anything for days, and there were no symptoms of poisoning. I've checked with Mary the cook, who loved her as if she were her own daughter, but she says she couldn't persuade her to eat anything, not even the smallest drop of soup. The only things that passed her lips were sips of water, which she gave her from the big jug in the kitchen which the whole household used, and a few drops of the nourishing tonic which Brother Martin brought her from the monks' infirmary.'