Kate Sedley: The Dance of Death

‘You’re right,’ I admitted. ‘I’ll come right away if — ’ I forced myself to say it — ‘you’ll give me the pleasure of escorting you down to the hall.’

She put her hand on my arm. ‘I don’t think we need hurry,’ she laughed. ‘It’s probably more of that disgusting brown pottage that we were fed at dinner. I suspect Duchess Cicely of being a thought parsimonious. These religious women very often are. They have little time for the pleasures of the flesh.’ We had arrived at a narrow, twisting staircase and had to descend in single file. Eloise paused two steps down and, turning her head, glanced up at me, a malicious smile lifting her pretty lips. ‘Although I understand it wasn’t always so. Rumour has it that Her Grace of York was far from despising earthly pleasures in her youth.’

‘What exactly do you mean by that?’ I spoke more sharply than I intended and added in a milder tone, ‘I’ve never heard any ill of her.’

Eloise continued her descent, talking over her shoulder as she did so. ‘I daresay you might not. But my lord duke — ’ she meant Albany, of course — ‘let slip odd things now and again. Being of kin, he was probably privy to family secrets.’ We had by now reached the bottom of the staircase and were traversing a passage, where daylight had already given way to torchlight as a fading October sun gave up the unequal struggle to filter through infrequent arrow slits. My companion chuckled. ‘Didn’t Her Grace once offer to prove King Edward a bastard?’

‘Oh, that!’ I shrugged. ‘I recall hearing something of the sort. But if I remember rightly, it was a long time ago, when the king first revealed his secret marriage to the queen. The duchess was apparently so incensed, so furiously angry, that it’s generally reckoned she would have said anything in order to overset it. The marriage, that is. And so far as I know, no such proof was ever forthcoming.’

It was Eloise’s turn to shrug. ‘Well, I suppose it would take more audacity than most women have to admit that she had cuckolded her husband, for whatever reason, or however worthy she considered the cause. But why should she not have been telling the truth and then thought better of it? I believe she was extraordinarily beautiful when she was young. Wasn’t she called the Rose of Raby?’

We descended another flight of stairs and now we could distinctly hear the clatter and chatter of the kitchens and the servants’ hall, a din that would soon engulf us, making rational conversation impossible.

I said quickly, ‘Beauty and immorality don’t necessarily go hand in hand.’

Eloise smiled enigmatically, but, maddeningly, made no answer, moving rapidly ahead of me with a sudden burst of speed that left me behind.

Timothy Plummer was waiting for me when, an hour or so later, I re-entered the little chamber overlooking the water-stairs. So much had happened since I quit it earlier that it seemed like a different room, a different day.

I had not enjoyed my supper. As Eloise had predicted, it had been the same pottage as at dinner with a few more vegetables added, followed — for those who wanted it — by coarse barley bread and goat’s cheese. I had given my portion to my neighbour, a young page who looked as if he were perpetually hungry — as no doubt he was, poor child.

But it wasn’t just the food, unpalatable as it was, that robbed me of my appetite. The memory of my friends’ deaths lay like a bruise on my spirit. Not only was it grief for Jeanne and Philip Lamprey and for Reynold Makepeace, but Eloise’s careless words that I would be sure to hear of a third death within a short space of time had suddenly made me anxious for news of my family. What was happening to them, to Adela, to the children, during my long absence? One of them could have died and I wouldn’t know. I should be on my way home to them by now, but here I was on the verge of being sent even further afield, to France, and not allowed to send a message to enquire after their well-being. The bile rose in my throat and almost choked me. I began to rehearse in my head just what I was going to say to Duke Richard when I at last came face to face with him. As for that little stoat Timothy Plummer. .

‘Why that grim face?’ the little stoat enquired as I took my seat opposite him at the table. ‘You look as if you’ve lost sixpence and picked up a groat. For God’s sake, man, what’s the matter with you now?’

‘I want to go home to my wife and children,’ I snarled, ‘not be packed off to France play-acting the role of husband to an evil little baggage I wouldn’t trust further than I could see her.’

Timothy sighed heavily. ‘I thought you’d reconciled yourself to that fact. I’ll be truthful with you, Roger-’

‘Do you think you can?’ I sneered.

He chose to overlook this interruption, continuing smoothly, trying not to let his annoyance show, ‘I don’t know, as I believe I’ve already mentioned, whether Mistress Gray would have killed you or not if I hadn’t turned up in time, but I give you my word that she is absolutely no danger to you now. Why should she be? Ask yourself that. The circumstances are completely different. She no longer has a motive, so stop talking like a fool. If that’s your only objection-’

‘It’s not, and you must know it’s not.’ I had myself under control now, keeping my tone level and the peevish note out of my voice. I leaned forward on my stool, my arms folded on the table. ‘Let’s leave aside the fact that I am being used, as I have been used for the past four, five months. Let us also ignore another inconvenient fact — that I am not one of your spies and have never been officially recruited for the job — and finally let us consider whether or not Duke Richard, being the man he is, would force me to leave my home and family to run my head into danger on his behalf if you were not constantly reassuring him of my willingness to do so. Oh, I admit he might be disappointed in me, feel that I had betrayed him in some way or another, but I doubt very much if he would absolutely insist or throw me into prison for disobedience. It’s not in his nature to be unjust.’

‘He trusts you-’ Timothy was beginning, but I waved him to silence.

‘And,’ I went on ruthlessly, ‘I hold you primarily responsible for this present jaunt, which, as far as I can tell — and it might interest you to know that Mistress Gray agrees with me — appears to be totally unnecessary. The information that Eloise can wring from this cousin of hers is no state secret and is bound to be common knowledge on this side of the Channel almost as soon as it is known in France. Moreover, even a fool unversed in politics like me can predict what King Louis’s decision will be. And whatever else I think about you, Timothy, and in spite of anything I’ve ever said to the contrary, I have never thought you lacking in wit.’

The spymaster bowed ironically (not an easy feat when you’re sitting down). ‘I suppose I should be grateful for your good opinion,’ he said, ‘however grudgingly given. But if you don’t think me stupid, then give me credit for not sending you on a fool’s errand. You know very well, because I have told you, the reason for this present meeting and for your audience this evening with Duke Richard. This is a mission within a mission. Your ostensible reason for accompanying Mistress Gray to France is merely a cloak for a secret — and I emphasize “secret” — undertaking for His Grace. And before you say anything else, yes, I admit my first thought was of you because the duke and I are both agreed that you are the only man we can fully trust. You have not only, in the past, proved your loyalty to my lord, but you seem to me to have a genuine affection for him. Is that not so?’