S. Parris - Treachery

‘I think,’ I say carefully, ‘that if I were ever to marry, I would want it to be for a more substantial reason than to scandalise someone’s relatives.’

‘True,’ she says, with a sigh. ‘Although it would have been fun.’ She runs a hand along my thigh. I glance up at the house, conscious that the Mayor’s household may well be watching from the windows. Taking her hand, I raise it softly to my lips and replace it in her lap, though more in a spirit of regret than desire.

‘I had better see if Sidney has settled his differences with Sir Francis,’ I say, as I stand. ‘And then we must pack our bags.’

‘But Elizabeth has told you of our plan to go to Buckland?’ she says, rising and tucking a loose curl of hair into her hood. ‘Those few days, before we each go back to our own lives — perhaps there we might briefly forget the differences that separate us?’ She offers me a sly smile, a look from under her lashes that tells me exactly what she means.

‘I hope we might,’ I say, relieved. I have a sudden urge to take her in my arms and crush her mouth to mine right there, but instead I bend and place another chaste kiss on her hand. Sidney may scorn the company of women, but I have not known enough of it in my life to tire of it. A few days of softness before I must return to face my future would not hurt. As long as I remember to guard my heart.

‘I am truly sorry to see you leave, Bruno.’ Drake shields his eyes and scans the view from the Hoe. The evening sun is beginning its slow slide towards the horizon, leaving a wash of coral and gold in the sky. Over the surface of the water, bands of shadow shift with the movement of the clouds, changing its colour in a restless patchwork. Small waves crest in white flecks around the great ships. Music drifts across the open water from their decks, the lilt of flutes and viols. On St Nicholas Island, all is still and quiet. Drake breathes deeply and rolls his shoulders back. I steal a glance at him while his attention is fixed on the horizon. The strained expression that had haunted him since we arrived has melted away; he carries himself with a new lightness, as if he has taken off a lead cloak. When he smiles, you see the genial man under the ruthless commander. I begin to feel that it would have been a worthwhile experience to sail with him.

‘As am I. When do you plan to leave?’

‘As soon as possible. I will see poor Jonas buried and Gilbert and his courier put on the road to London under armed guard. I have already sent a fast rider to Walsingham with the coded letter — he will have plenty of warning.’ He turns to me, suddenly sombre. ‘I do this with a heavy heart. People think me unfeeling, because I value discipline. A captain who does not is no captain at all, and the same goes for a ruler. But I know what awaits Gilbert, and I don’t send him to it lightly.’

‘Unsentimental is not the same as unfeeling,’ I murmur.

‘Quite. You express it better than I could.’ He sighs, and returns his gaze to the water. ‘Sir William Savile has decided not to sail with us, you know,’ he says, after a long silence.

‘He has not withdrawn his money?’

‘No, God be thanked. But now that Robert Dunne is to be buried like a Christian and his wife will be a respectable widow, he reasons it is easier to let us do the work while he stays here and bides his time until he can marry her without scandal and I bring home a healthy return on his investment. The child will be christened as Dunne’s and Savile will legally adopt it as his heir once he marries Martha. Very neat.’ He folds his arms and smiles into his chest. ‘God knows I have no great admiration for William Savile, but it may be he makes the woman a better husband than her first. Poor Robert. God rest him.’

‘And Pettifer?’ I do not quite meet his eye as I ask this.

‘Pettifer travels with me as our ship’s chaplain.’ He glances sideways at me. ‘Does that surprise you?’

‘I was mistaken in accusing him of the murders, and I am sorry for it, but everything else I told you, Sir Francis — I am convinced it is the truth. If you had seen that poor boy’s face, you would not doubt it.’

Drake holds up a hand to stop me. ‘I can believe it, Bruno — all of it. Pettifer may rail against your accusations until he is hoarse, but it is plain to see that the shock of near-discovery has frightened him. He is very contrite, and I like to think he will change his ways.’ He clasps his hands behind his back. ‘Besides, he will do less harm out to sea, away from temptation, than left here to collude with that woman. As for the House of Vesta …’ He curls his lip. ‘I have spoken at length to the Mayor about cleaning up that nest of vermin. They cannot go on believing they are above the law. I have also written to the Sheriff.’

‘What if the Mayor and the Sheriff are among her clientele? Nothing will be done. That is what she stakes her whole business on.’

‘ If they are, Bruno’ — and he lays heavy emphasis on caution — ‘they will have to think carefully about which side of the law they wish to be found on. I hinted at the possibility of a Royal Commissioner coming from London to investigate if that place carries on unchecked. That ought to frighten them sufficiently. I have every confidence that by the time I return from this voyage, the House of Vesta will be no more than an old wives’ tale in Plymouth.’ He flashes me a quick smile, his gold tooth winking in the light.

I nod. No one could argue with his course of action, but I cannot help wondering what will become of those young girls if the House of Vesta closes down. Will they just find themselves selling their wares down at the docks, without even the security of food and shelter, ending their days like that poor pox-blighted girl Sara? I bite my lip; there is nothing I can do about it either way, and at least Mistress Grace would no longer profit from them.

‘So you have a few empty berths aboard the Elizabeth ,’ I remark, after a while.

‘I’m afraid so. Which makes it all the greater pity that you cannot come with us. I would have liked a man of your abilities with me on the voyage.’ Drake pauses, still squinting out to sea. ‘You must feel that I have deceived you.’

‘I knew from the start that you had no intention of taking us. I tried to disabuse Sidney of the idea several times, but he would not listen. He had his mind made up.’

‘Yes, he is still not speaking to me,’ Drake says, pulling at his beard. ‘But he knows better than I how dangerous it would be to defy the Queen. He will thank me for it one day.’

‘His wife will thank you for it now. As will Walsingham.’ I hesitate, unsure how he will respond to my next question. ‘Have you spoken to Gilbert since he was arrested?’

‘No.’ His face tenses again and his voice grows hard. ‘I considered it, but I cannot bring myself to look him in the eye. Loyalty, Bruno.’ He turns to me with a grave expression. ‘For a man in my position, it’s the prince of all virtues. All those ships, all those lives, are in my care,’ he says, pointing to the fleet peacefully dominating the Sound, the vast ships bright against the glinting water. ‘That’s why treachery like his is the hardest thing for a captain to forgive. Harder even than the murders. To think he sat at my table, eating my food, sketching our plans as I talked with my captains, and then sent every word off to the Spanish — it curdles my blood.’ He bunches his fists, then slowly releases his hands to hang at his sides. ‘It was disloyalty that brought me all the problems with the Doughty brothers, and look where that has ended.’

‘Is there any news of John Doughty and Jenkes?’

‘None yet.’ He presses his lips together. ‘I have put messengers on every vessel leaving for the French ports along this stretch of coast, warning the customs men to look out for them. Jenkes at least is conspicuous, you would hope. But if they have made it to France they will disappear like rats into the sewers, to pop up again somewhere else. John Doughty will pursue me until one of us is in our grave, I have no doubt of it.’