Helen Dickson - Conspiracy Of Hearts

‘Yes, he did, but if you don’t mind, Lord Brodie, I—’

‘Understand that I have no wish to pry or to meddle in your father’s affairs,’ Kit interrupted quickly. ‘I do so on this one matter only out of deep concern, for I strongly suspect that the purchase of those horses will, in time, have a far-reaching and disastrous effect on a great many people.’

With a growing dread, Serena looked at him, a feeling of doom curling itself round her heart. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Tell me—how many horses did Catesby and John Grant purchase?’

‘Twenty, in all,’ Serena told him with reluctance. ‘Why is it important for you to know?’

Kit shrugged easily, watching her reaction closely. ‘I’m interested. I consider it a number far beyond domestic requirements. Come. Why the secrecy?’ he demanded, his eyes narrowing in question.

‘I wasn’t aware that I was being secretive. But if you are to see Mr Grant at the hunt later, perhaps you should ask him why he purchased them.’

‘But would I get the right answer?’

‘Why ever not?’ Serena bestowed a brittle smile upon him. ‘Although he might surprise you and tell you to mind your own business.’

‘I expect he would—and I would not blame him in the slightest.’

‘Don’t concern yourself, my lord,’ Serena said lightly, trying to ease the sudden tension that had developed between them. ‘Let me put your mind at rest. The reason for the purchase is quite simple and can easily be explained.’

‘Then tell me.’

‘Mr Catesby is hoping to obtain a military commission under the Archduke Albert in Flanders, which, as you will know, being a military man yourself, is a perfectly legal venture after the signing of the peace treaty with Spain last year. He needs horses to form a troop of horse and my father has horses to sell. Have you reason to doubt what I tell you?’

‘Yes, I do. Who told you this?’

‘My father,’ Serena replied, trying to sound calm, but she was more troubled than she cared to show.

‘And you believe him?’

‘Of course I do,’ she flared, indignant. ‘My father does not lie.’

‘I would not insult him by accusing him of such. But I suspect that if this is what Catesby told your father, then it’s a useful piece of dissembling on his part.’

‘Please explain why you raise this matter with me and not my father? I find it extremely alarming and fear your reason for doing so.’

‘You are right to fear it, since I do myself. I raise the matter with you because I feel you should know—that you must be warned. It’s only right that you should be prepared should something of a vicious nature occur that may prompt awkward questions to be asked of Sir Henry. What we are discussing is of an extremely serious nature—one I have not discussed with anyone else. If something should happen—and my instincts tell me it will—events have a nasty way of implicating the innocent. I have no wish to see my own head roll by making myself conspicuous.’

Serena stared at him in horror, swallowing against a restricting tightness in her throat. ‘Is it as serious as all that?’ she whispered.

‘Yes. I’m afraid it is.’

‘And do you trust your instincts?’

‘As a soldier I had to—and they could usually be relied upon. Since the king’s renewed persecution of the Catholics, I suspect there is something afoot, that a scheme is being devised to bring down the king and his government. I also fear your father may have unwittingly been drawn in to become a part of it.’

‘And how do you know this?’ Serena asked with a sinking heart.

‘Whilst in London I often supped with Catesby and his friend Thomas Percy at various taverns and eating houses, where they and their associates would meet. Robert Catesby, as you know, is a man of powerful charm and a dominating personality, who cuts a wide swathe in most company. He also has the easy ability of a man who can talk anyone into doing anything. I believe he is a convert to Catholicism—and, indeed, he has a typical convert’s passion for his faith—with an ill-conceived ardour which will make him as willing to kill for it as to die for it.

‘It’s no secret that he is deeply involved with religious malcontents like himself. I can name several—all opulent and obstinate followers of their religion, most of them living in the Midlands in their large mansions. Some you know well,’ Kit said, speaking gravely, his dark eyes surveying Serena closely, ‘whose houses you visit to conduct the rituals of your faith—where priests are condemned to secret refuges to hide from pursuivants.’

Serena met his gaze calmly. ‘You are well informed, Lord Brodie. The rituals are conducted with some trepidation, but their importance overrides any disquiet we might feel at the possible consequences should we be discovered.’

Kit nodded slowly. He admired her words, which were repeated by many courageous Catholic women playing a crucial part in the survival of the Catholic faith in the face of ruthless persecution.

‘Bravely spoken,’ he commented quietly. ‘It is no secret that Catesby has been involved in failed conspiracies in the past. When Queen Elizabeth was moved to save him from a premature death after his involvment in the Essex conspiracy in sixteen-oh-one, he was fortunate to leave the Tower with his head intact. On the surface there was nothing unusual in the meetings I was privy to, but I am no fool and strongly suspect some enterprise more serious than cards or dice to be their reason for meeting.’

‘And they let you, a Protestant, listen in?’ Serena commented with irony. ‘I beg your pardon, Lord Brodie, but that I cannot believe.’

‘There was nothing secretive in the gatherings, which were social, jovial affairs, where not everyone was of the Catholic faith.’

‘Then tell me this. Are you saying that my father could be endangering his life by selling his horses to Robert Catesby?’

‘That depends on his true reason for doing so.’

‘You don’t believe they are to go towards raising a troop of horse for the Spanish Netherlands?’

Kit shook his head in consternation. ‘I don’t know. I doubt it and believe it to be a smokescreen to conceal the true purpose of the purchase of so many horses. But I have not the slightest inkling of what is going on.’

‘What other reason could there be?’

‘Unfortunately I cannot answer that. I only know that since King James has crushed Catholic hopes for liberty of conscience and will not meet certain concessions, there are those of a violent, impatient nature who will not wait with passive endurance for change to come about.’

Serena was appalled at what he was implying. ‘But any violent means to bring about tolerance can never be justified. The sentiments of honest Catholics would never support this. If there is a conspiracy, then those involved must desist from such wicked actions that can only result in weakening the cause. But why does it interest you? Why involve yourself—especially since you are not of the Catholic persuasion?’

‘I don’t take religion seriously, I confess. I worship God in my own way and believe others should be allowed to do the same. I concern myself because your father is my friend, and I value his friendship. All I know is that it has been hinted that something of a seditious sort will be attempted by Catholics when Parliament reconvenes next month.’

Serena paled. ‘But that is treason.’

Kit looked at her steadily. ‘Only if it fails will it be called treason.’

‘There have been failed conspiracies before. How can this be any different?’

‘Well may you ask. Who is to say at this stage what will happen? But I believe that the Catholic cause, the throne and succession itself, could hang on this.’