Rory Clements - The Queen's man

Anne hesitated. She had her own ideas but was not at all certain she dared to share them with John Shakespeare. She had always been wary of him, even when they were young. It was as though he had authority over them. Perhaps that was why she had never seen him as a possible swain. She sighed and said what she could in safety. ‘Florence has changed. She is not the person she once was. She hears voices and sees ghosts. I worry about her constantly. That is why I agreed to help her with the letter. We must protect her from herself, or I fear she will do something rash.’

‘For the sake of common justice, we cannot allow a murder to pass unremarked.’

‘Very well, I will do what I can. But it may be that I end up losing her friendship.’

‘Thank you. Better to save a life than a friendship.’

‘Is this the place,Mr Ord?’

It was early evening. They had come through the gatehouse, which was unmanned, and were riding up the long driveway to Arden Lodge.

‘This is the place, Monsieur Leloup.’

Leloup reined in his horse and gazed towards the house. ‘It is fair. Très belle . Go through it with me. Who is in there now?’

‘This is Mr Arden’s home. He is the prime mover, a man driven to do this holy work by the sacrilege he has witnessed this past quarter of a century. Also here you will find his wife Mary and daughter Margaret. They are devout and loyal Catholics, who will travel with Queen Mary as her companion ladies as she passes through England to the southern coast. Arden and the gardener, Hugh Hall, who is in reality a seminary priest, will both be party to the escape at Sheffield, along with myself and Miss Florence Angel, whose brother was most recently murdered. She may be but a woman, but I would say there is no man more steadfast among all the seminaries of France and Italy. Also here is Mr Somerville, Arden’s son-in-law. They are a most remarkable and committed band. You will find none finer in all of England.’

‘And you are certain none of them is a spy? They are all devoted to our cause?’

‘I am certain.’ The soft Scottish voice was reassuring for he could see the doubt in the Frenchman’s eyes. ‘Arden, Somerville, Hall and Florence Angel are all willing to die in the cause of the Holy Father and the Catholic League, as am I.’

‘So five of you will effect her freedom in the manner we have already discussed? And Arden’s wife and mother will play their part when Mary is safe?’

‘No, there will be four of us at Sheffield. Somerville has a separate mission. He is charged with travelling to court to kill the usurper.’

Leloup looked at his companion in disbelief. ‘And he can do that alone?’

‘He has a confederate within the royal court and is certain there is a way. I have no reason to doubt Mr Somerville. But you must hold your nose, monsieur, for he is a difficult man, a man on fire. Such a man as we require.’

‘You make him sound a little mad.’

‘Some might think him so. But he is God’s instrument, and he will not waver. If he fails in his mission, it will not detract from our other plans. Anyway, others will come after Mr Somerville. All we need is for one assassin to get through. If not this week or month, then the next. .’

‘Indeed. And so,’ Leloup said slowly, ‘in the absence of Mr Somerville, we are left with four of you to break Mary from her cold prison. Is that sufficient?’

‘If all goes well with the northern lords, then that will be more than enough. All we need now is your authority — and the return of the ring to Mary. For if she hesitates, all will be lost.’

‘Tell me a little more of their characters, Mr Ord. I must be wholly convinced.’

‘I understand. Mr Arden is an English country gentleman. Like so many of his ilk, he feels betrayed by the changes he sees. Where once he took pride of place in the Church of this county, worshipping in the true faith, now he feels himself cast away by the new order. These ideas from the Germanies, from Switzerland, from the Low Countries all seem alien to him. He is full of rage.’

‘And the priest, Hall?’

‘A timid man, ordained in France and obedient to God. He would rather tend his garden, but when called on, he will not fail. And then there is the woman. .’

‘Florence Angel. I met her brother in Paris. A most zealous priest, ripe for martyrdom. Do we know who killed him?’

‘The pursuivants. I am sure they committed this cruel and bestial crime. Sir Thomas Lucy’s men have been ranging wide in their hunt for priests. They are Godless men. Cold murder is a day’s merriment to them. Father Benedict’s death has only stiffened his sister’s resolve. You will find her a most inspiring woman, for she has visions and communes with the Maid of Orleans.’

Leloup raised an eyebrow. ‘You paint a curious picture, Mr Ord. They seem a most singular band. Tell me true, for much is at stake: do you trust them?’

His companion bowed low in the saddle. ‘I do, monsieur le docteur . Truly, I do.’

At Hewlands Farm, Anne Hathaway watched her future brother-in-law depart with fear in her heart. His reaction to the letter signed by Mary, Queen of Scots had scared her more than he could know, more even than the visit of the pursuivants. It was not the letter that terrified her so; it was the other document, the one she had not dared confess to him, the one she would now have to reveal to Will. She would need his help in retrieving it. Please God, they could retrieve it.

The problem would always be Florence. John had identified that accurately enough. She was the broken link in the chain.

In the heat of summer, when love disturbed the mind and turned sane men and women mad, Florence’s quirks had seemed charming. She was more faerie than angel, a soaring spirit not quite of this world. And then her brother had appeared, and there was excitement and secrecy in this quiet backwater. Why should a young man be a fugitive for his religion? Why should every man and woman not be allowed to worship as he or she pleased? Anne and Will were agreed on that. And though they were not convinced by Father Benedict’s homilies, they enjoyed all the furtiveness their clandestine meetings entailed. Nor were they the only ones in these parts who had succumbed to his holy aura. When attending his masses, they felt they were part of some dangerous underground. But that was then, and this was now. Everything had changed. The long hot summer of sacred passion and carnal desire had become an autumn of brutal reality and murder.

And if only that was the sum of it. But there was more. There was the secret document, the so-called Spiritual Testament.

Anne recalled with horror and shame the mad night she had signed the Testament. She knew now it was a death warrant, a pathway to martyrdom for a cause in which she did not believe. Why, in the name of all that was holy, had she put her name to such a thing?

For a year now it had become a treasonable offence to assist a Catholic priest in his mission and yet she had signed a document stating that she had entrusted her soul to the Catholic faith. Why had she done it? The truth was she did not know whether she was Catholic or Protestant. What was the difference between them? Both worshipped one God, both believed He sent His only son Jesus Christ into the world to save mankind, and both adhered to the teachings of the same scriptures. Protestant or Catholic? Two names for the same religion with but minor differences.

There had been midsummer madness that night. In other places, maidens gave away their virginity, sober men became drunk and wise men spoke like fools. But at Arden Lodge, there had been ecstasy of the spirit. All who were there — and there were many — signed the documents that promised their eternal soul to the Church of Rome and to God. If only Will had been there to stop her. If only she had never agreed to go with Florence.