Tangled Hearts (16 page)

Charissa gave a bow. She didn’t say anything but her smile had returned.

“Ye need to get her fed and clean,” Ewan said. “What am I going to do with two naked pirates while ye do that?”

…

As if Searc’s square room wasn’t already cramped, now there were two naked swaggering pirates bumping into the table and knocking over the hearth shovel.

“I think I’ll make sure Boswell hasn’t wandered off,” Searc said and slipped out. Aye, the rancid aroma of rotting flesh was preferable to dodging these two bulls in the pen while they dressed.

“These blasted trews are too tight,” Will complained.

“There is another pair to try.” Captain Bart pointed to the small pile on the bed. Tilly had done a full morning’s work feeding these two, and finding them cast-offs that would make them somewhat presentable at court.

“So,” Ewan said as he leaned against the wall near the glass paned window. “The
Queen Siren
is a pirate ship, then.”

Captain Bart eyed him as he fastened the long jacket down the front. “Is that what Panda’s been telling you?”

Ewan tilted his head. “Actually, no, she’s not told me one way or the other, though she seems quite tense when I bring up the subject.”

Captain Bart shrugged and smiled wide. “Aye, we’re pirates. Of the most notorious kind.”

Will snorted and Ewan considered them. “I wouldn’t flaunt that here at court. Dory’s done a lot to get ye out of the Tower. Don’t do anything to get her thrown back in there with ye.”

“About that.” Captain Bart took a step closer, which brought him halfway to Ewan. “If things turn bad—”

“They always turn bad,” Will said as he shimmied into another pair of trews.

“If things turn bad, you have to get Panda out of here.” His hand jutted out toward the window. “Somewhere free where she won’t be locked up by these buffoons or burned for witchery.”

“King Henry’s arm is rather far reaching,” Ewan said.

“Then get her on a ship. A ship can outrun any fat old king,” Will said. “And Dory will be captain of it within the year.” He laughed, but it was a fond, boastful laugh that told Ewan he meant every word.

“Speaking of ships,” Ewan said.

“I haven’t heard your promise,” Captain Bart interrupted.

Ewan nodded. “I will see Dory safely away from here, even if I have to stuff her in the hull of an outgoing ship.”

Will laughed, but Captain Bart seemed somewhat satisfied.

Ewan leveled him with a serious look. “There’s a ship in the harbor near the Tower. The girl Dory’s taken in says that it’s picking up strays, children. Would ye know anything about it?”

Captain Bart’s face hardened.

“O’Neil,” Will said as if the name was curse.

“Did the girl say what colors it flies?” Captain Bart asked.

Ewan shook his head. “She wasn’t up to being questioned, but Dory may have gotten more out of her by now. Who is O’Neil?”

Will sat on the bed to yank on some borrowed boots. “The devil.”

“He’s a slave trader,” Captain Bart answered. “One of the worst.”

“He sells children?” Ewan asked, his gut turning sour.

“Steals them, sells them, abuses them,” Will answered. The man’s face was just as hard as his captain’s. “Probably plays with them, too, if you know what I mean.”

“Why is Dory afraid of him?” Ewan asked.

“Dory said she was afraid of him?” Will asked as if he didn’t believe it. “She ain’t afraid of anything.”

Ewan wondered if Will was reliving his lapse in judgment in trying to force himself on her.

“She didn’t say that, but each time his name comes up… the weather changes.”

Captain Bart nodded slowly. “She knows he’s a monster.” He ran a hand through his overly long hair. He leveled a serious look at Ewan, his pale eyes like ice. “And she knows he wants her.”

Chapter Ten

9 March of the Year our Lord God, 1518

Dearest Kat,

My heart is happy to read that you’ve received my letter. Never doubt my love. Are you certain you didn’t receive one throughout the autumn? I sent one each month faithfully.

Be ready as the summer comes to court. When people begin to move away from plague, we will act.

Forever yours,

Rowland

The thought of Dory being abused and sold into slavery boiled Ewan’s blood. “What do you mean, he wants her? How does he know her?”

Captain Bart took Will’s spot on the bed to tug on his new boots. His look spoke much more than words could, and a chill scratched up Ewan’s spine. “The bastard heard I had an English lady’s baby on board. Word had gotten out and he wanted to sell her back to her family here in England.”

“But you didn’t sell her,” Ewan stated.

Captain Bart sniffed as if reliving the ridiculous request. “Nay, I knew what could become of her in O’Neil’s hands. Plus her mama didn’t want her to return to England until she was old enough to protect herself. ’Twas her dying request.”

“Ye honored it,” Ewan said.

“Aye. Our little Pandora was the loveliest angel this side of heaven.” He smiled as if remembering. “And she glowed blue. I knew she was magic.”

“And ye weren’t giving that up to O’Neil,” Ewan said.

“Julian O’Neil was my crewmate on the decks of the
Crimson Rose
years before. He loved the young lasses, sometimes too young, and he met other men who liked them. Sick bastards. When he got his own ship, he found that selling children was more lucrative than pillaging trade ships.”

Captain Bart leaned against the wall. “He didn’t ask just once about Panda. He asks for her every time I get close to him.”

Ewan narrowed his eyes.

“He still hunts her,” Captain Bart explained. “Knows I love her as a daughter, probably wants her more for it.”

“Maybe you should give her to him,” Will said. “She’d kill him on the spot, put an end to the worst kind of slavery.”

“He’s probably not the only slave trader of children out there,” Ewan murmured.

“Not by far,” Captain Bart continued. “But he’s the only one I can’t catch.”

Ewan’s eyebrow rose. “Ye catch slave traders?”

Captain Bart’s large smile showed all his brown teeth. “Aye, that I do.”

“So ye’re not pirates,” Ewan said.

Captain Bart slowly shook his head, his grin solidly in place.

“And ye don’t sell children.”

“Nay, Scot,” Will said. “We save them.”

“Yet ye act like pirates.”

“Got to blend in if we’re going to find out what’s in a ship’s hull and where it’s headed,” the captain said. “Panda knows how important it is for us to be pirates. She’s a good girl, wouldn’t tell you what we do.”

And she didn’t trust him enough to tell him the truth. Ewan studied the two pretend pirates. They certainly acted the part. “So ye don’t steal, rape, and pillage?”

“Rape, no, else a man finds himself off my ship with his tongue cut out. But the others, well a man’s gotta eat, and if we take a ship to free the children, we take whatever else is onboard to pay for our troubles.”

“And no one’s realized your true mission?”

“There ain’t anyone left to talk,” Will said with a lunging motion in the tight space as if he held a long sword. “The little ones go to the mission where Sister Mary finds them good homes.”

“Only O’Neil suspects,” Captain Bart said. “He’s a slithery snake, that one. Almost had him just before the English navy captain took a liking to Panda.” He shook his head. “Whole lotta trouble.”

“Is that what landed ye in the Tower? Saving Dory?”

“Dory was determined to save one particular girl from O’Neil,” Captain Bart said. “O’Neil said she was his daughter but Dory wouldn’t let it go, challenged him right there inside the tavern. I thought the little one was already dead. The English commander who’d been watching Dory from his corner decided he liked Dory’s spunk.”

“Didn’t know he had a bloody platoon outside,” Will added, and looked down at his dirty nails. “Hence, we ended up in the Tower.”

“You idiot,” Captain Bart threw toward him. “He was busy getting furious with me for interceding when you took a swing at him. Brought the whole lot of them down on us.”

“And Dory got away,” Ewan finished. “Did she find the child?”

“No,” Bart said, his word sharp like a nail in the girl’s coffin.

Someone rapped on the door, and Ewan crossed to it. Dory stood there, hair tumbling as usual about her shoulders. He could imagine it tugging in the wind as she stood braced on the deck of a ship. Her dress hid her legs, but he assumed they’d be spread slightly in a sailor’s stance.

“What are you grinning at?” she asked with a full measure of suspicion. Her gaze darted to the two innocent looking pirates standing behind him.

“Where is Charissa?” Ewan asked.

Her frown relaxed. “Bathed, fed, and sleeping.”

“In our bed?”

“Of course, where else can we house her? She’ll sleep in our room.”

Ewan couldn’t help but grit his teeth. So much for Dory’s request to learn why swiving was the best thing in life. And with him, it would be incredible. It will be incredible. He wasn’t giving up.

Someone cleared their throat by the open door, and Ewan turned to find a page waiting to be noticed.

“Aye?” Ewan asked.

“Lord Cromwell has requested your attendance.”

Ewan stepped forward. Better to have this business done with Boswell so they could get the wretched man’s body in the ground or on a pike far from here.

“All of you, sir. The two from the Tower, your wife, Lady Wellington, and you, Lord Brody.”

As they headed out the door, Ewan met Captain Bart’s gaze. The old man gave a slight nod, his eyes wary. Ewan returned it, an oath passed in silence. No matter what, he’d get Captain Bart’s Panda out of here safely.

…

Dory walked on Ewan’s tense arm, and Captain Bart and Will followed. “Who exactly is Cromwell?” she whispered to Ewan. The feel of his strength next to her, as if she walked beside a mountain, helped her smooth the wild thumping of her heart.

“My master,” the page threw back over his shoulder, “is master of the Rolls, chancellor of Cambridge University, and advisor to our majesty the king.”

“Advisor on what?” she asked.

“The law, God’s and the laws of man, as well as foreign and domestic affairs.” The page clipped through the man’s many accomplishments as if he was both happy to expound upon them, and irritated that she didn’t know them.

“Oh,” she said when he finished, and they stopped before an ornate, inlaid door.

Thomas Cromwell sat behind a massive desk. He was a mole-like man with thin lips, squinty black eyes, and a bulbous tip of a nose. His rich robes and hat gave him the appearance of a rodent dressed up as a staunch member of parliament. She recognized him from the supper the other night. The page bowed to him and left with a flip of Cromwell’s hand.

“Be seated,” Cromwell said, though there were only two chairs before his desk. Dory felt Ewan’s hand on the small of her back give a little nudge. Though she’d rather stand, she still played a role of gentlewoman. She stepped around the wooden chair and sat, and Ewan, Will, and Captain Bart stood behind her, leaving the second chair vacant.

“I would know all there is to know about this threat to our glorious King Henry,” he declared, his gaze taking each of their measure.

Ewan’s fingers rested on her shoulders. “Ye’ve read the letters written in Rowland Boswell’s hand?”

“Certainly, but they do not name the third traitor.”

Dory’s spine straightened even more, to the point it could break. “It hasn’t been proven yet, sir, that Katharine Wellington was a traitor.”

“And it hasn’t been proven that she is not,” Cromwell countered with a fierce gaze meant to impale her into silence. He didn’t know her very well.

“The letters—”

“Certainly make her sound compliant, not only in the plot against his majesty and the Princess Mary, but also against all further possible heirs to the throne,” Cromwell said, his voice rising. “Are you aware, Lady Wellington, how many babes our king lost during those early years with Katharine of Aragon?”

She knew better than to guess.

“Five, possibly six. Two before they even quickened, one delivered stillborn, two sons died within weeks of life. And it seems your mother was part of the plot to make certain no heirs survived. Apart from abominable, killing the king’s children is treason.”

“How would she have been able to perform such terrible things?” Dory asked. “She didn’t have training—”

“Katharine Wellington was known as a healer,” Cromwell intoned as if passing judgment.

Dory’s breath hitched in her throat. Her mother, a healer? Like she was a healer? Did her mother possess the blue light she used? Could it be used to… she could barely think it.

Dory shook her head, feeling the burn of angry tears. She stared Cromwell in the eyes. “Exactly. My mother was a healer, not a murderer. She was also a woman with a woman’s instincts to protect life, especially the lives of children.” Her voice shook and she barely noticed Ewan’s hold on her shoulders.

Captain Bart sat in the seat next to her and took her hand. The man she knew as her father squeezed her fingers as he spoke. “Lord Cromwell. Before Katharine Wellington died she spoke of her sins.”

Dory could hardly breathe. Captain Bart very rarely brought up the time when she was born.

“She rambled in her fever about a right number of things: letters, meetings… but never killing or poisoning anyone. She made it clear that she loved her country and her king. She was distraught at the thought of me taking her baby back to London, for she feared Pandora—I mean Rebecca—wouldn’t be safe. I assume from the person you are hunting.”

“Did she give a name?” Cromwell leaned forward, gripping the edge of his desk.

Captain Bart shrugged. “She didn’t mention a name when she confessed except she seemed afraid of her brother by marriage.”

“James Wellington,” Ewan said. “Who is right here at court and quite close, it seems, to your king.”

Cromwell’s eyes narrowed to near slits. “I will speak with him.” He focused on Captain Bart. “You have a ring left by Katharine Wellington on your ship.”

“Aye.”

Cromwell studied him, his eyes shifting between Bart and Will. “What does it look like?”

“A rose.”

“What color is the rose?” Cromwell asked.

“I haven’t seen it for a good many years and only as I spied upon the lady taking it from a hidden pocket and locking it in the box,” her father answered and scrunched his face.

“A box?” Cromwell asked.

Dory sighed quietly, waiting for the usual response.

“Aye, Pandora’s box,” Captain Bart said, and a small snort came from Will. “I knew my little girl was trouble, so I named her Pandora. I knew the ring was trouble, too. So I left it locked up in there.”

“What color is the rose on the ring?” Cromwell asked.

“Gold, I believe.”

“Lancaster ring, like the one Boswell had,” Cromwell mumbled. This information didn’t seem to improve his mood. “Is there an inscription in the ring?” He said the words low and the room held its breath.

Captain Bart stared back. “I never saw it up close. The lady kept it hidden until she locked it up tight. It seemed to worry her.”

“You will retrieve it for me,” Cromwell said. “I must examine it to ensure that there is no further threat to our king.”

“The threat,” Ewan said, “has been dormant for twenty years. It does not mean there is a situation now.”

“A traitor waits for the right opportunity,” Cromwell said. “Queen Anne has also lost sons mysteriously. Perhaps the surviving traitor is still determined to leave England without an heir. The Princess Elizabeth may be in danger now.”

Cromwell grabbed a leaf of vellum and scrawled across it, folded it, and dripped melted wax on it to seal it with his own ring. He handed it to Captain Bart. “This will ensure safe passage within England. Retrieve the ring with him,” Cromwell said glancing at Will. “Rebecca Wellington remains here at court, in place of her mother.”

Ewan stood tall beside Dory. “The lass is not her mother, and should not be abused in her place.”

“No one mentioned abuse, Scotsman,” Cromwell said. “Lady Wellington will remain here, with you, her husband, where she belongs. You two will continue to investigate possible unlawful activities with regard to Boswell’s letters and report any findings to me.”

Dory’s stomach relaxed. When had the thought of leaving England become sickening?

“Has the king accepted the fulfillment of the summons given to Meg Boswell of Druim?” Ewan asked. He still held her shoulder, and she could feel the tension coursing the sinew in his body.

Cromwell fanned the parchment toward Captain Bart until he took it. “Aye, Boswell has been delivered and taken this morning to Tower Hill where his body will be hung as a traitor, in warning to all others who consider treasonous acts.”

Although he didn’t show it, Dory felt the small relaxation in Ewan’s body. “Then my wife and I must remain in London due to the threat of a traitor that King Henry feels is connected to Lady Brody.”