Keeper of the King's Secrets (28 page)

“Aye.” Parker did not see the point in denying it. “To me and mine.”

“You will not go unrewarded.”

Parker shrugged. He would take what was given to him and he would use it, but he had never pushed for any favor from
the King, save one—Susanna Horenbout’s hand. And he had been given it.

Henry laughed. “You inspire me always to surprise you with my generosity, given how lightly you take it, and how little you seem to want it.”

“I do what I do out of loyalty, not out of greed.” Parker saw no leverage in pretending otherwise.

“Aye. And because of that, although it pains me, I believe you about Wolsey. But I have use for him yet, and no good will come of my turning on him with so little evidence. The nobles will squabble with each other and petition me for his offices and his wealth, and in return, they will not give me half as much as he does in terms of work. No matter what Wolsey may have done now, he can work from sunrise until long after sunset on my business, and I will always be in his debt for that.”

Parker knew he spoke true. But if the Cardinal was going to get away with this in the short term, perhaps a more personal visit was in order.

“Any other trouble?” the King asked.

“One favor I will ask of you.” Parker thought of Norfolk, lurking in his corner outside.

“Aye?” Henry waited for him, arms crossed over his chest.

“Do not pay heed to any rumors or whispers from Norfolk about your painter. My betrothed is as loyal as I am.”

“I know it, but what is the story here?” Parker had seen that gleam in Henry’s eyes before. The monarch was insatiably curious.

“Norfolk could have alerted you to the Mirror’s disappearance some weeks ago, but he held back, trying to find a way to ensnare Wolsey and ruin him. The French almost laid hands on the jewel because of it.

“Norfolk threatened my betrothed with the Tower if she retrieved the Mirror before he could find some evidence against Wolsey. It is she you have to thank for the return of this jewel. She worked out where it was hidden.”

Henry’s lips thinned. Parker knew the King did nothing to stop the vicious rivalry in his court, thinking it provided him with a self-sustaining system of checks and balances, but sometimes the bitterness between the power factions was not to his advantage. “So noted. There will be no Tower in your lady’s future.”

“Good.” Parker bowed, and Henry sat again at his desk.

“Call that damnable secretary back as you leave.”

Parker stepped into the Privy Chamber and caught Norfolk’s eye. The Duke was watching the door, a fox hunkered down outside the chicken roost.

Parker sent him a long, slow smile, and watched Norfolk take a step back.

Turnabout was fair play.

And here it must be noted that such—like deaths, which are deliberately inflicted with a resolved and desperate courage—cannot be avoided by princes.

—Machiavelli
, The Prince,
chapter 25

H
ampton Court Palace was magnificent.

Parker had not been to see the progress of Wolsey’s project for a long time, and he was astonished at the beauty and elegance of the building.

It was a palace for a monarch, not a priest; for a king, not his administrator. Given the relatively cramped conditions of Bridewell, Wolsey had succeeded in upstaging his master in this.

Workmen were still busy around the back. Parker heard the clang of iron on stone, and the calls of men to each other. He wondered what Wolsey thought to do once the place was finished. How could he entertain here, do business here, without showing up his monarch?

It was madness.

He walked around the side of the building, and stepped through a door muddy with the tracks of workmen.

As he moved toward the front of the palace, the rooms became finer and more finished. No expense had been spared, and the detail was remarkable.

Wolsey had turned his considerable talents of organization to creating perfection, and had almost achieved it.

Parker heard the murmur of voices ahead and moved toward the sound, turning a corner to see two servants walking away with trays of used plates.

Large double doors sat closed to his right, and he knew whom he would find behind them. A laugh came, light and feminine, and Parker stepped back as the door opened.

A woman slipped out, her face smoothing to neutral as she closed the door and followed the servants.

Alone at last.

His knife neatly in his grip, Parker eased the door open and stepped inside. The light outside was fading, and the lantern on Wolsey’s desk and the fireplace provided a gentle glow that threw the rest of the room in shadow.

Wolsey stood before the fire, his back to the door, and Parker stood quietly, waiting for Wolsey to sense him.

The moment he did, Wolsey spun, staggering a little as he put himself off balance. “Parker!” He moved to his desk, gripping the edge for support. “Why are you here?”

“You know why. And my stay under the Fleet is only a part of it.”

Parker leaned back against the door.

Wolsey’s gaze flicked to him and away. “You have no proof against me.”

Parker tilted his head. “I don’t need proof. Just as you don’t seem to need a court for the Fleet.”

Wolsey felt behind him, knocking stacks of paper on his desk as he blindly fumbled for something. “The King will not countenance an injury to me.”

“I think the King will not so much as raise an eyebrow.”

Wolsey’s skin was suddenly stark against the dark color of his robes. “You pointed the finger at me?”

“I told the King all I know, and you were most certainly mentioned.” Parker fingered the hilt of his knife. “Having possession of the Mirror when I told the tale added no little weight to my words.”

Wolsey gave up trying to find whatever it was he sought, and lifted a hand to his mouth. “You found the Mirror?”

Parker smiled.

“The King did not believe you, or it would not be you here, but some sheriff to take me to the Tower.” Wolsey spoke slowly, weighing each word and finding them to his liking. He smiled back, his hands shaking with relief.

“The King did not want to believe me. Whether he did or not, I will leave to you to discover.” Parker stepped forward. “In fact, I think your punishment can be wondering when the King will no longer find you useful enough to forget you put your own ambition before his. One day, his temper will fray too far. The day he sees this palace of yours, perhaps?”

Wolsey frowned. “You could be lying. What is to say you even spoke with the King at all?”

“Come to Bridewell tonight.” Parker turned and put his hand on the door. “The King will be wearing the Mirror, and you can see how well he likes you.”

“Perhaps I will.” Wolsey spoke boldly, but Parker could hear the fear beneath.

“If you ever touch or speak with my betrothed again,” Parker said as he opened the door, “if you ever send thugs after me, or attempt any harm to any of my servants or family, I will kill you.”

“You insolent dock rat.” Wolsey drew himself tall. “I have more power than you will ever have.”

“All your power is worth nothing with a knife between your ribs. And if you come near me or mine again, that is exactly what you will have.”

S
usanna watched the Venetian emissaries watch the pageant. Or rather, pretend to watch it while their gaze was drawn elsewhere.

To the King.

He was always a striking presence, but tonight, in his dark blue velvet doublet embroidered with gold thread and picked out with jewels, he looked magnificent. And from his shoulder hung the Mirror of Naples.

In the glow of a thousand candles, it took her breath away, and she understood why it was at the center of the last few days’ madness.

She noticed someone else looking at the Mirror, with an intensity and focus that spoke of obsession.

As if he felt her gaze, he turned to her, and for a terrible moment she and the Comte stared into each other’s eyes. There was hatred there; a pure, cold fury.

Parker put a hand on her shoulder, and she cast a quick glance up at him. When she turned back to the Comte, he was gone.

“He would like to kill me,” she said. She couldn’t help the shiver that slithered through her.

“I have Harry and Peter Jack asking questions along the river to see if Jean drowned in the Thames this morning or not.” Parker kept looking for the Comte, but from his expression, Susanna guessed the French nobleman had disappeared.

“The Comte will kill me himself if he can. He would not go running to Jean.”

Parker lifted the back of his hand to her cheek and stroked it. “You are becoming too like me, my lady. There are those all about you who wish you harm.”

Susanna laughed, a weary sound. It had been a long day. “Can we take our leave?”

Parker gave a nod, and took her with him to say his farewells to the King.

Norfolk was standing with Henry, and Susanna went cold, the conversation she had had with Norfolk in his house clear in her mind. The Duke was out to ruin her.

“Your Majesty, it has been a busy day. We will depart.” Parker bowed low to the King and dipped his head in Norfolk’s direction.

“I have been busy since our meeting earlier, Parker. You will find you are no longer my Yeoman of the Crossbows.” Henry paused and looked sidelong at Norfolk.

Susanna squeezed Parker’s hand, but he did not look shocked or even concerned.

“You are now my Yeoman of the King’s Robes.”

Norfolk hissed, the sound as loud and enraged as a boiling kettle. “That is an elevation indeed.”

Parker had been powerful before, but this further responsibility elevated him among his peers in the Privy Chamber. It was an honor from the king.

“You are most generous, Your Majesty.” There was amusement in Parker’s voice, and Henry let out a deep laugh.

Norfolk stood beside them, white-lipped.

“Take your leave with my blessing. I know this has been a busy day.” Henry fingered the glittering jewel at his shoulder. “I gather some thanks are owed you, Mistress Horenbout, for the day’s work.”

Susanna curtsied.

“As it happens, I have a question for Mistress Horenbout.” Norfolk stared at her and Parker, his eyes narrowed.

“Be very careful which questions you ask Mistress Horenbout, lest some questions be leveled at you.” Henry spoke softly, his full attention on Norfolk, and Norfolk took a step back.

“Norfolk.” Parker gave a curt nod of his head, and Susanna did not even dip.

The Duke bowed to the King and withdrew, his steps unsteady.

Parker drew her away, taking her trembling hands in his.

“Will that hold him?” she whispered.

“For a while.”

Susanna came to a dead stop, her eyes on the door. Cardinal Wolsey stood in the entrance, his official robes on and a parchment in his hands.

“Your Majesty.” His call cut through the talk and laughter, and the company went quiet.

Henry stepped into the space that had opened up on the floor between him and his chancellor.

“My lord chancellor.”

“This is my plan of completion for Hampton Court Palace.” He held the parchment up. “If all goes well, it will be finished shortly.” He paused. “Today, as I surveyed the work, I realized that in my enthusiasm to build a fine place to which I could invite my monarch, I have created more than a humble servant needs. When the last brick is laid, and the last room furnished, I will cede ownership to you.”

It was done more publicly than the King would like, Susanna guessed. But for a man facing possible imprisonment, a man who knew not his standing with the King, it was necessary for as many to witness his massive act of generosity as possible.

“It was merely a matter of time,” Parker breathed in her ear. “I saw Hampton Court today, and if Wolsey hadn’t given it to him, Henry would have taken it. Wolsey knows it. And after all his cards tumbled down today, this was quick thinking on his part. I cannot begin to imagine what it has ripped out of him to give up Hampton Court.”

“If he loved it, this is perhaps an apt reckoning for what he has done.”

Parker shook his head. “Henry will never forgive him for a betrayal. There will be an accounting, but Henry will let Wolsey work himself to the bone before he brings down the ax.”