The queen's man : a medieval mystery (27 page)

"So why wait for the roof to fall in on you?"

"I already told you why we cannot run away together, Nora! Or are you one of those fools who think people can live on love?"

Nora laughed. "When it rains pea soup! It seems to me that Abel is your problem. Get rid of him and your problem is solved, as simple as that."

Nell drew her mantle more closely around her shoulders, for she suddenly felt chilled to the bone. She thought she'd taken Nora's measure, but she still hadn't expected the other woman to suggest murder as casually as if she were ordering more wine. "And how do I do that, Nora?" she said, with all the sarcasm she could muster. "Smother him with a pillow whilst he sleeps?"

Nora reached for her wine cup. "I think we can do better than that."

Nell's pulse was racing. "Nora . . . you're not serious?"

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Nora sipped her wine, smiling. " I hat depends. Do you want me to be?"

"I ... I might. If I did, eould you help me?"

"No. But I know someone who can. Giles is very good at solving problems like Abel. But you'd have to make it worth his while. Can you do that, Bella?"

Nell cast her eyes down hastily, lest Nora see their exultant gleam. Giles, w 7 as it? Just as she'd deliberately chosen a name very like her own, so had Nora. Snatching at her napkin, she brought it up to conceal her smile. "I think I could," she said slowly. "As I told you, Abel does a profitable trade, and hoards nigh on every penny he earns. But this is happening too fast for me. I need to know more."

Nora's smile was cold enough to cause frostbite. "All you need to know," she said, "is that Giles can do for you what you dare not do yourself—if you're willing to pay his price. Are you, Bella?"

Nell drew a deep breath. "Yes," she said, "I am."

"She took the bait!" Nell flung her arms around Justin's neck, hugging him joyfully. "She proposed murder, right over the eel pie!"

Although Justin had waited until Nora was long out of sight before approaching Nell, he was still uneasy about her acknowledging him so openly in public. Catching her arm, he drew her into the shelter of a nearby alley. "She mentioned Gilbert by name?"

"She called him 'Giles,' but who else could it be? How many killers on the run is the woman sharing her bed with, after all!"

"She knows where he is, then?"

Some of Nell's elation faded. "Alas, she does not. She explained that he has been 'lying low, waiting for the storm to blow over,' and so she has not seen him for several weeks. But he got word to her that he thought 'the pot was no longer on the boil,' so she expects he'll soon be seeking her out."

Nell paused for breath. "So it would indeed have been a mis-

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take for Jonas and Luke to arrest her. I'll try to resist the temptation to say I told them so, but I can make no promises!"

"Did she reveal how he got a message to her, Nell?"

"No, she did not, and I thought it would've seemed suspicious had I asked. I suspect that he sent a man to the bawdy-house. But she'd not be likely to tell me that, for she's led me to believe she is Giles's kept woman. I daresay that is why she's never invited me home. You said she shares it with three other whores, hardly the lavish love nest she's been bragging about. But I think that prideful lie of hers worked to our advantage. Since she had something to hide, too, mayhap that's why she did not question my excuse for not inviting her to my own home: that my husband is so jealous he begrudges me even women friends and sets his servants to spying on me."

"What happens now?"

"She says she'll talk to Giles on my behalf, see if he is willing to 'help' me. We agreed to meet again on Sunday at that same tavern. If he is still in hiding, all we can do is set up another meeting. After that . . ." She shrugged, and Justin finished the thought for her.

"We wait," he said. "God help us, we wait."

Nell's Sunday meeting with Nora proved to be an exercise in futility, for Nora had not been contacted by her fugitive lover. They fumed in vain, and Luke sent a second letter to Winchester, putting off his departure from London, hoping that he'd convinced the sheriff and Aldith of the need for another delay. Nora and Nell agreed to meet again on Wednesday afternoon, this time at Paul's Cross in the churchyard of the great cathedral.

That Wednesday morning, Justin rode to the Tower, welcoming Eleanor back from the Great Council meeting at Oxford and luring Claudine into the keep stairwell for some sweet, stolen kisses. He'd missed her much more than he'd expected—or wanted. His clandestine love affair with Claudine had given him greater pleasure—in bed and out—than he'd experienced with

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any other woman. But he never let himself forget that tor lovers with no future, time was the enemy.

After leaving the Tower, Justin headed for the alehouse. Jonas had drawn Nell's bodyguard duty, so he passed the time with Luke, playing tables and draughts and arm wrestling, growing more and more restless as the hours dragged by. Luke was in a pessimistic mood, and he wagered Justin an extravagant sum that this, too, would prove to be a dry well. The deputy had never been so happy, though, to lose a bet as when Nell and Jonas returned at dusk, triumphant.

Steering Nell toward an empty table, they hovered over her so eagerly that she complained they put her in mind of hungry vultures ready to pounce. "Sit," she insisted, so adamantly that Shadow^ promptly did. "I promise to tell you all, to leave nothing out. The Fleming has emerged from his burrow. Nora found him in her house when she got home yesterday from the market."

She quickly held up her hand, fending off any interruptions. '1 just want to say that I know Aldred botched it, for he was supposed to be watching Nora's house. But I hope you'll help me convince Jonas that it was not entirely his fault. Gilbert had a key and—"

"The Devil take Aldred!" Luke leaned across the table. "What did Gilbert say?"

Nell sighed, abandoning Aldred to his fate. "Nora says she told him about my 'problem,' and he thinks he can help me out—his words, not mine." She glanced covertly at Justin, knowing he'd not like what would be coming next. "He has agreed to meet with me on Friday, at the Smithfield horse fair."

"No! That was never part of the deal. I'll not let you get within range of the Fleming's knife!"

To Justin's surprise, he got some unexpected support now from Luke. "I'd have misgivings about that, too," the deputy confessed. "The risk is too great, Nell. There has to be another way."

"There is not," Jonas said flatly. "Nell can lure him out into the open. This may be our only chance. Nell understands that and is willing to take the risk."

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Nell had been secretly hoping that Justin or Luke could come up with another plan, one that would keep her far away from the Fleming and his well-honed blade. But her pride prevented her from backing out, and when Jonas looked toward her for confirmation, she nodded slowly. "I do not see what choice we have."

Neither did the men. Justin was not yet ready to acknowledge that, though. "Why does Nell have to be the one to meet him? What if we could find someone else to play the role of Bella? Jonas, do you not know a youth small enough to pass for a woman?"

"I might, but you're forgetting how wary the Fleming is. Nora is to accompany Nell to Smithfield. So unless you can suggest a way to fool Nora, too, with this substitute Bella, I say we have to go with the genuine article."

Justin's silence was a concession of defeat. Luke turned sideways and hit him on the arm. "Well stay closer to the lass than her own shadow," he vowed. "Between us and Jonas, I daresay we could keep her safe from the Devil himself!"

Justin reached across the table and caught hold of Nell's hand. "Are you sure you want to do this, lass?"

"Yes," she lied, "very sure."

"We'd best start making plans, then," Luke pointed out, "for Friday is just a day away. That hellspawn would pick the horse market. Half of London is likely to be there. Where exactly are you to meet him, Nell?"

"By the horse pool, whilst the races are being run. He'll be leading a bay gelding and I'm to pretend I want to buy ..." Nell stopped, for she'd caught the look of dismay that flashed between Justin and Luke. "What is it? I've a right to know!"

"You do," Justin agreed, "and we'll keep nothing from you. That crafty whoreson is as slick as a greased pig and about as hard to corner. The crowds will have thinned out by then, with most people watching the races. And there he'll be at the horse pool, holding the reins of a fast horse, ready to bolt if he sees anything at all suspicious. Damn him to Hell and back!"

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Nell bit her lower lip. "Will you be able to get close enough to seize him?"

"It we cannot," Justin said, "we're not letting you anywhere near the horse pool."

Luke nodded, his eyes meeting Justin's across the table. They had one day and two nights to come up with a strategy to outwit a man who'd so far seemed blessed with the Devil's own luck, or once again, he'd slip through their snare.

Justin awoke with a start. The room was unfamiliar and it took him a moment to remember where he was. Beside him, Claudine slept peacefully, her hair cascading over them both like a sable mantle. This was the first full night they'd had together, all Clau-dine's doing. She'd fabricated an excuse to explain her absence to the queen, then engaged a room in a secluded riverside inn on the outskirts of London. With their trap for the Fleming to be sprung on the morrow, Justin had tried to beg off. But she had persisted and when she confided that she wanted to be able to fall asleep in his arms at least once, he could think only of how much he wanted that, too.

Although he'd taken care not to disturb Claudine, when he lay back, her eyes opened, dark and drowsy. Stifling a yawn, she snuggled closer. "You're having a very restless night, love."

"Sorry," he murmured, kissing the corner of her mouth. "It probably would have been better for us to do this on another night. For certes, you'd have gotten more sleep."

"I'm not complaining. But it would have been easier if we'd been able to spend the night at your cottage. Will that friend of yours be staying with you much longer?"

"That depends," he said, "on what happens tomorrow."

She rolled over in his arms, looking up searchingly into his face. "What was it you said the other day, Justin—that my curiosity would put a cat to shame? And you were right. I am too inquisitive for my own good, I love to discover secrets, and I like to gossip. Wfhereas you, my darling, are as closemouthed as a clam!"

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"I'm not as bad as all that/' he protested, and she reached up, tracing the curve of his mouth with the tip of her finger.

"Oh, indeed you are. There is much I would like to know about you. Where you were born. If you have brothers or sisters. How you got this scar on your shoulder. Your favorite food, your favorite color. Why you are so evasive about your past. But I have never asked you—not once—how you came to be the queen's man or what you've been doing on her behalf. Have I?"

"No . . . you have not."

"Nor am I going to ask now. But I know you are involved in something dangerous. Justin, I fear for you. I cannot help myself, I do."

He'd never had someone to worry about him before, and his arms tightened, drawing her into a more intimate embrace. "On the morrow," he said, "we are going to catch a killer. I cannot tell you more than that, Claudine, not yet. But the danger will not be all that great, at least not for me."

"I hope you are telling me the truth," she said, and never had he heard her sound so serious. "But if you will not be at risk tomorrow, what is stealing your sleep tonight? Whom are you fretting about, if not yourself?"

"A woman."

"A woman?" she echoed. "Justin de Quincy, are you cheating on me so soon? You're not supposed to develop a roving eye until much later in the love affair!"

"You need not worry, lass. Whatever the game, I always abide by the rules."

His heart was not in his banter, though, and it showed. Turning her head, she kissed his chest. "I ought not to have been teasing you," she said contritely, "not when you're so troubled. Tell me about this woman, love. Why are you afraid for her?"

"She is a friend," he said softly, "who wanted to help us trap a killer. But to do that, she must be the bait. And if harm comes to her, Claudine, I'll never forgive myself."

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the way. Now that their deal had been struck, Nora was utterly single minded, brisk and businesslike. Nell had begun to wonder if the Fleming's whore had seen her as prey from the very first. She had talked freely of her unhappy home life, after all. Long ere they had that candid talk over eel pie, had Nora concluded it might be profitable to befriend her? The bored young wife of a respectable merchant might well be a promising target for extortion. That would explain why Nora had responded so warmly to her overtures; usually friendships did not flower so fast.

The more she thought about it, the more sense it made to Nell, for she was convinced by now that the Fleming and the Irishwoman were partners as well as bedmates, linked as much by greed as lust. Glancing uneasily at Nora's delicately drawn profile, Nell marveled anew that a woman could have such an innocent, lovely face and such an ugly soul.

The horse market was in full swing, would-be buyers mingling with browsers and those who'd come out to gamble on the afternoon races. Nora paid no heed to the activities going on around them, ignoring the admiring and lascivious comments hurled her way. Nell followed mutely behind. Now that she was so close to confronting Gilbert the Fleming, she felt as if she'd swallowed a butterfly, an entire flock of butterflies, so unsettled was her stomach. Sweet Lucy, what has your mama gotten herself into?

By the time they reached the horse pool, they'd left the crowds behind. Nell understood now how perfectly Gilbert had chosen his ground; midst all this open space, no one could take him unaware. The slightest shadow falling across his path and he'd be in the saddle, spurring his mount for the open fields and freedom. He was waiting by the water's edge, holding the reins of a rangy bay horse, watching intently as the women approached. From a distance, he seemed quite ordinary—no tail, no cloven hooves. But Nell knew better; she did not doubt that she was about to double-cross one of Lucifer's own.