C.J. Sansom - Heartstone

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Summer, 1545. England is at war. Henry VIII's invasion of France has gone badly wrong, and a massive French fleet is preparing to sail across the Channel. As the English fleet gathers at Portsmouth, the country raises the largest militia army it has ever seen. The King has debased the currency to pay for the war, and England is in the grip of soaring inflation and economic crisis. Meanwhile Matthew Shardlake is given an intriguing legal case by an old servant of Queen Catherine Parr. Asked to investigate claims of 'monstrous wrongs' committed against a young ward of the court, which have already involved one mysterious death, Shardlake and his assistant Barak journey to Portsmouth. Once arrived, Shardlake and Barak find themselves in a city preparing to become a war zone; and Shardlake takes the opportunity to also investigate the mysterious past of Ellen Fettipace, a young woman incarcerated in the Bedlam. The emerging mysteries around the young ward, and the events that destroyed Ellen's family nineteen years before, involve Shardlake in reunions both with an old friend and an old enemy close to the throne. Events will converge on board one of the King's great warships, primed for battle in Portsmouth harbour: the Mary Rose...

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He hesitated, then said, 'After you left, sir, I came to realize—Master Coldiron told many lies, didn't he?'

'Yes, he did. But Simon, if you still think of going for a soldier, come to me first, and I will see if I can find some men who have done real fighting for you to talk to. Then if you still want to do it I will not stand in your way.'

'Sir, I was thinking. Before you left, you spoke of helping me to an apprenticeship—'

I smiled. 'Yes. I will, if that is what you want.'

He looked round. Guy and Josephine were standing in the parlour doorway. Josephine was trembling and her face was streaked with tears. She had heard Coldiron saying we could keep her. Simon looked at her, then back at me, a blush coming to his face. 'Is Josephine staying?' he asked.

'Well, Josephine?' I asked quietly.

She answered, tremblingly, 'Yes, Simon. I am staying.'

Shortly after the boys bumped and banged Coldiron's little chest down the stairs. I opened the door. He was sitting morosely on the steps. I watched him drag the chest out through my gate and off down Chancery Lane. My last sight of him was when he turned and shook a skinny fist at me.

* * *

EVENING WAS drawing on. I stood in the parlour, looking out at the garden. Guy had been with Josephine in the kitchen, easing her back into her life, getting her to prepare dinner with the boys. He came back looking thoughtful. I smiled. 'I will need a new steward now. How would you like the job?'

He raised his eyebrows. 'I think going back to medicine may be easier.' He hesitated, then said with unexpected diffidence, 'I thought of returning to my house next week.'

'I will get the boys to clean it out first. They and Josephine.' I looked at him seriously. 'Will she be able to manage without Coldiron?'

'It will not be easy. If you could get some kindly decent old fellow to take Coldiron's place, that might help, give her a sense of order. She will need that, for a time at least. And you need a man in charge of the household, otherwise there may be gossip about you and her.'

I nodded, smiling. 'I think young Simon is the one with an interest there.'

'I have noticed that. I think you should tell him she needs help, but peace and quiet too. He is a good lad, I think he will understand.'

I sat down. I was silent a minute, then said, 'Well, I have seen to Coldiron. But there is something else I have to deal with.'

'Ellen?'

'While I was away I discovered what happened to her. She was raped. One of the men involved is dead, the other now in a position where he can do her no harm. And the Queen is taking over payment of her fees.'

He gave me a long, steady look. 'What happened in Hampshire, Matthew?'

'It is a long story. I may have a new patient for you if you want him, by the way, a sad unhappy boy, badly injured by an arrow.' I looked at Guy. 'He did a terrible thing, it preys much on him. He is—well, he is very sick in his mind. But he was injured trying to save my life, and Barak's.'

'Is it Hugh Curteys?'

'No. His name is David Hobbey. Guy, I will tell you everything, but first I must go to the Bedlam, tell Ellen she is safe. And free.'

'Be careful with her, Matthew. And I am not sure she can ever be free.'

'Before I had only questions for her, now I have answers. It must be me who does this.'

'You know she has been in love with you.'

'Then I owe it to her to make clear, at last, that there is no hope for us there.'

* * *

I FETCHED Genesis from the stables and rode across to the Bedlam. Hob Gebons opened the door to me. His heavy face fell. 'You're back.'

'Yes. And I would like to talk to Keeper Shawms.' I lowered my voice. 'I know everything about Ellen now, Hob.'

The keeper was in his office. I sat down without asking. Shawms stared at me, a calculating look on his fat, stubbly face. He had on the same stained jerkin he was wearing when I had left. I wondered, where does he spend all the money he gets?

He grunted. 'Metwys has been to see me.'

'Let me guess what he said. Ellen is now under the protection of the Queen, who will meet her fees from now on.'

He nodded. 'That's right. How d'you swing that?'

'By finding the truth about who raped Ellen nineteen years ago. It was the one who paid her fees, Philip West. He is dead. Another man was involved, but he can do her no harm now she has the protection of Queen Catherine. Did Metwys tell you who he is?'

'No. And I don't want to know. Will Ellen leave now?' he asked. 'I don't mind, she can go when she likes if the Queen wishes. There's no—'

'No order of lunacy, nor ever was. I know that too. Beatrice West must have paid the warden well to take her in, all those years ago. Arranged by Sir Quintin Priddis I have no doubt. You would like her out of your hair now, I dare say. Well, I would like her to leave too, but I doubt she will.' I leaned forward. 'Make sure that she is well treated, and pay her, too, for the work she does, or I will ensure the Queen hears about it.'

He looked at me, shook his head. 'You're a persistent devil, aren't you?'

'Yes.' I stood. 'And now, where is she?'

'In her room. Look, I don't want you upsetting her again. That doesn't do anyone any good.'

'She needs to know where she stands. Goodbye, Master Shawms.'

* * *

I LOOKED THROUGH the bars of Ellen's door. She was sitting on her bed, quietly sewing. Her expression was sad, but composed. I remembered the terror in her face the last time I had seen her. I would not bring her to that again, I swore.

I knocked and went in. She looked up. Her face went hard and cold.

'Good day, Ellen,' I said.

'You have returned,' she answered evenly.

'Yes. This morning. Have you been well treated while I was away?'

'Yes. Gebons has been unusually friendly. I wondered if you had paid him to be.'

'I wanted to see you were not mistreated while I was away.' She did not reply. I asked, 'Has Master Shawms said anything to you?'

'No.' She looked apprehensive. 'About what?'

I drew a deep breath. 'Ellen,' I said gently, 'I do not want to rake over the past again.' A tense watchfulness came into her face. I continued, 'But I have been to Sussex. You are safe now from those men.' I had decided to say nothing of the discovery of her father's body. 'The Queen herself has taken responsibility for your fees. And if you ever want to leave here, you can. You are free, Ellen.'

She looked at me, intently, fearfully. 'What has happened to him? To—Philip?'

I hesitated again. She said, 'Tell me!'

'He is dead, Ellen. He went down on the Mary Rose .'

She sat very still, staring into space. Then she said, quietly, with cold, whispered anger, 'He deserved it.' It was the same phrase Emma had used standing over Abigail's body, and David about what had happened to him.

'He did a terrible thing to you.'

She looked at me, her expression utterly weary. 'And the man who was with him that day? What of him?'

I hesitated. 'Do you know who he was?'

'I only remember a skinny little fellow.' She shuddered, her whole body trembling. I realized the depth of emotion she had been holding in, all these wasted years.

'He is now a high official of state. It is better you do not know his name. But he can do you no harm now.'

'Because you told the Queen what was done to me?' I heard anger in her voice now.

'It was the only way to protect you.'

She stared into space, hands trembling above her sewing. Then she put her work down, turned and looked me full in the face. 'I was content here,' she said, 'content as ever I could be. You should not have interfered.'

'I have freed you from a great threat.'

She laughed bitterly. 'To do that you should have been at Rolfswood nineteen years ago. You talk as though I cared one whit what happens to me now. I am past that. I did care for a while, when I thought you loved me. I see now that is impossible. Do you know who made me understand that?'

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