Murder at Whitehall

PRAISE FOR THE ELIZABETHAN MYSTERIES

Murder at Westminster Abbey

“Carmack once again delves into the Elizabethan Age, in all its drama, treachery, and religious mania, with this richly textured second outing for court musician Kate Haywood . . . deliciously detailed.”

—
Publishers Weekly

“[Carmack's] details on the sights, sounds, and smells of London as well as her descriptions of court attire and typical manner of interactions really serve to bring this period to vivid life. . . .
Murder at Westminster Abbey
is a very intriguing and suspenseful historical mystery that you will not want to miss! Enjoy.”

—Fresh Fiction

“Amanda Carmack's writing is stellar. . . . Flowing descriptions, wonderful historic and fictional characters, and an intriguing mystery make for an exciting story.”

—Open Book Society

“Young Kate is again loyal, clever, and a shrewd detective. The setting and personalities of the time come alive as Carmack weaves a breathtaking mystery with nonstop action and emotional growth for Kate.”

—
RT Book Reviews
(top pick, 4½ stars)

“Kept me turning pages. A great combination of tension and intrigue. The climax was another nail-biting, intoxicating ride and the wrap-up drops a bombshell . . . that had me wanting the next book immediately.
Another stellar book for this series, which is exceeding expectations. Buy two copies: one for you and one for a friend.”

—Mysteries and My Musings

“This is my favorite type of mystery! An intelligent female amateur sleuth solving crimes in the richly detailed setting of Tudor England. Add a dash of romance, a puzzle with a natural yet surprising solution, and pull heavily from historical record, and it's no mystery why this book earns a well-deserved spot on my keeper shelf!”

—Plot Twist Reviews

Murder at Hatfield House

“Meticulously researched and expertly told,
Murder at Hatfield House
paints a vivid picture of Tudor England and a young Princess Elizabeth. Amanda Carmack's talent for creating a richly drawn setting, populating it with fully realized characters, and giving them a tight and engaging narrative is unparalleled. An evocative and intelligent read.”

—
New York Times
bestselling author Tasha Alexander

“Amanda Carmack writes beautifully. . . . I enjoyed
Murder at Hatfield House
and recommend it; it is a cozy excursion into Tudor times with a lively heroine.”

—Historical Novel Society

“An excellent start to a new historical mystery series.”

—
RT Book Reviews

“Historical suspense with a solid murder mystery and very enjoyable heroine. Near perfect.”

—Mysteries and My Musings

“We see the action unfold through Kate the musician's
eyes, but the most exciting revelation is not the unveiling of the mystery, but the unveiling of Elizabeth.”

—Heroes and Heartbreakers

“I enjoyed this novel, with the rich descriptions and the lively and interesting cast of personable characters. I think that this is going to be a great series to follow and I highly recommend it to those who enjoy a bit of history to their mystery!”

—Sharon's Garden of Book Reviews

ALSO BY AMANDA CARMACK

The Elizabethan Mystery Series

Murder at Westminster Abbey

Murder at Hatfield House

Murder in the Queen's Garden

OBSIDIAN

Published by New American Library,

an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014

This book is an original publication of New American Library.

Copyright © Ammanda McCabe, 2015

Penguin Random House supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin Random House to continue to publish books for every reader.

Obsidian and the Obsidian colophon are trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.

For more information about Penguin Random House, visit
penguin.com
.

ISBN 978-0-698-19656-8

PUBLISHER'S NOTE

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely
coincidental.

Summer 1546

“O
h, we shall all be killed! Your Grace, Your Grace, what should we do?”

Matthew Haywood heard the shouts and screams even as he climbed the stairs to Queen Catherine Parr's chamber. The messenger who had summoned him to the queen's side had vanished, and all he saw as he moved closer was a maidservant dashing past with something hidden in her apron, and a footman with an armload of firewood, despite the warm day outside the windows.

Rumors had swept around the palace corridors all day, but he had tried to dismiss them, tried to concentrate on the music lesson he was giving his little daughter, Kate. Rumors were always rife in King Henry's palaces, especially when the king was ill, as he had been of late. When his ulcerous leg pained him, he roared with anger, and everyone around him ducked
and cringed. Everyone except his wife, that is. Queen Catherine was the only one who could soothe him, with her sweet voice and intelligent conversation.

But not lately, they said. Lately the king had become tired of her increasing devotion to the new Protestant learning, impatient with her bookish ways, even envious of her success in writing. And the queen had many enemies, such as the king's conservative Secretary Wriothesley and his Bishop Gardiner. Both were men who did not like to be crossed. Had the queen's good fortune run out today?

Matthew glanced over his shoulder, thinking of his little girl, her dark head bent over her lute. He was devoted to the queen, but how could he protect his Kate if Queen Catherine fell? Her loyal household would certainly fall with her.

Another footman brushed past him, carrying more wood, and Matthew quickly followed him into the queen's rooms. Her chamber, an elegant room draped with fine silks and scattered with soft cushions and carved chairs, was usually a peaceful spot. Normally the queen's ladies read silently or quietly chatted as they sewed and played music. Today chaos reigned. A fire roared in the grate, and the queen's chief lady, her sister, Lady Anne Herbert, fed papers to the flames, her pretty face streaked with tears. Other ladies huddled in the corner, sobbing.

Suddenly Matthew felt an insistent tug on the hem of his robe, and looking down he saw a small dog growling playfully at his feet. He'd been so caught up
in the somber scene he hadn't noticed. He fell back a step, then laughed once he realized it was only a lapdog.

“Gardiner, nay!” The Duchess of Suffolk, one of the queen's best friends and another great scholar of the New Church, cried out as she snatched up her naughty dog. It had seemed so funny when she named the dog after the bishop, admonishing “Gardiner” for growling and making a mess on the queen's fine carpets, but now the duchess's face was grim under her jeweled headdress. “I am sorry, Master Haywood. He is full of agitation today, as are we all.”

“What has happened, duchess?” he asked quietly. “I was sent a message to come at once to the queen, but was not told why.”

The duchess glanced around at the chamber, her arms tight around her dog. “I fear the queen learned that the king issued a bill of articles against her. Her physician, Dr. Wendy, found a copy of the vile document and brought it to her. One of her ladies, Lady Tyrwhit, has already been arrested, and we all fear we'll soon meet the same fate. The queen has ordered us to burn all her foreign books.”

Matthew was appalled. He remembered the other queens who had fallen from favor, Anne Boleyn and Cat Howard, imprisoned in the Tower, executed. How could such a fate befall Queen Catherine, a lady of such gentleness and great learning? “On what charges?”

The duchess shrugged in bewilderment. “Heresy, I would suppose, though we do not yet know. The king
does have a changeable temper, as we all know too well, but his fondness for the queen has always seemed so genuine!”

But Matthew knew fondness with King Henry turned too swiftly to indifference and hatred. He glanced quickly around the room, and at last glimpsed the queen. Catherine sat by the window, sorting through a small box of papers. There were books piled beside her, some of which she handed to her sister to be fed to the fire while she put others in a separate box to be kept. She looked calm, quiet, but her heart-shaped face was pale, her eyes shadowed with purple, as if she had not slept. Her raiment was usually impeccable, bright velvets and satins trimmed with furs and jeweled embroidery, her dark red hair brushed to a silken gleam and swept back into stylish headdresses, but today she wore a loose robe, her hair in a braid over her shoulder. Her hand trembled as she handed Lady Anne another book.

“Ah, Matthew, I am glad to see you,” she called, and he hurried to her side. He gave her a low bow, but she shook her head at such formality. “I fear there is little good news today.”

“So the duchess told me,” he answered. He studied her face, and her eyes darted from lady to lady, as if she could read what was happening in their fearful expressions.

“Shall you desert me, Matthew?” she asked quietly.

“Never, Your Grace,” he answered fiercely. “You have brought elegance and learning to the kingdom. Anyone would be honored to serve you.”

She studied his face carefully, and nodded. “You must send your dear daughter away, though. If you are to stay by my side, she could be in danger. Those against us will do anything to harm someone loyal to me.” She closed the box next to her and held it up to him. “Perhaps you would look after these things for me. I have put a few of my most treasured books and papers in here, and I need someone to keep them safe for me, if—if I must go away.”

Matthew carefully took the box in his hand. It was small and rather light, but the weight of it felt strong in his grasp. He had come to work at the queen's court because it was a great honor for a musician, but also because he believed in what Queen Catherine taught, what she wrote of in her
Prayers or Meditations
. He believed in studying and learning for oneself, and he wanted such a life for his daughter. If all that was snatched away now . . .

He had to help the queen however he could.

“I will keep them safe, Your Grace,” he said.

“I know you will, Matthew. I have great trust in you.” She reached into the sewing box at her feet and took out a folded parchment. “And if you could keep this particularly safe for me . . .”

Matthew carefully unfolded the paper and saw it was a piece of music, the queen's own writings set into a song. Something about the notes did not look quite right, something strange about the arrangement of the bars, but he had no time to examine it closely now. The frantic atmosphere of the chamber had taken hold of him, and he knew as the queen did that time was
growing short. He tucked the paper into his robe, and stepped back with a bow, the box in his hands.

“I will happily give these back into Your Grace's hands very soon,” he said.

Queen Catherine shook her head with a sad smile. “Nay, Matthew, I think you must keep them safe for me for a long while to come. . . .”