The boy looked more nervous than ever. ‘Yes, your grace.’
The duke looked him up and down. ‘God’s teeth, you’re a skinny fellow, we’ll have to build you up.’
‘Thank you, your grace.’
Lady Honor guided Mayor Hollyes to a place next to the Vaughan boy, then sat herself almost opposite me. The boy’s eyes followed her anxiously.
‘Now,’ Lady Honor said to the company, ‘the wine and our first confection.’ She clapped her hands and the servants, who had been waiting still as stocks, bustled into action. Wine was set before the guests, in delicate Venetian glasses finely engraved with coloured patterns. I turned mine over in my hands, admiring it, then the horn sounded again and a swan made of white sugar, nestling in a huge platter of sweet custard, was brought in. The assembly clapped and the duke barked with laughter. ‘All the Thames swans belong to the king, Lady Honor! Had you permission to take this one?’ Everyone laughed sycophantically and reached out with their knives to cut into the magnificent confection. Lady Honor sat composedly, yet her eyes followed everything that went on in the room. I admired her skills as a hostess, wondering when I would get the chance to question her.
‘Are you a lawyer, like Serjeant Marchamount?’ the woman next to me asked.
‘I am. Master Matthew Shardlake, at your command.’
‘I am Lady Mirfyn,’ she replied grandly. ‘My husband is treasurer of the Mercers’ Guild this year.’
‘I do some business with the Guildhall, though I have not had the honour of meeting Sir Michael.’
‘They say at the guild, you have some other business now.’ She eyed me severely with little blue eyes that stood out sharply in her painted face. ‘The disgraceful business of the Wentworth girl.’
‘I am defending her, yes.’
She went on staring at me. ‘Sir Edwin is devastated by what happened to his son. He deplores that his wicked niece should be allowed to delay justice. My husband and I know him well,’ she added, as though that were the last possible word on the matter.
‘She is entitled to a defence.’ I noticed the duke had turned to Marchamount and was talking to him earnestly, ignoring the Vaughan boy, who sat staring down the table, quite at sea. Thank God the duke had showed no sign of recognizing me.
‘She’s entitled to hang!’ Lady Mirfyn would not let go. ‘No wonder the City is crawling with impertinent masterless beggars when justice is seen to be evaded so! Edwin doted on that boy,’ she added fiercely.
‘I know it is hard on Sir Edwin and his daughters,’ I said mildly, hoping the woman would not go on like this all evening.
‘His daughters are good girls, but they cannot take the place of a son. He had laid all his hopes on the boy.’
‘But he has taught his girls to read scripture, has he not?’ I decided I might as well make the best of things: this opinionated woman knew the family, she might let something interesting drop.
Lady Mirfyn shrugged. ‘Edwin has advanced ideas. I don’t think it serves girls to teach them religion - their husbands won’t like arguing ideas with them, will they?’
‘Some might.’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘I never even learned to write, and I’m glad to be able to leave such things to my husband. I’m sure that’s what Sabine and Avice would prefer too, good well-mannered girls that they are. Poor Ralph was a mischievous child, but that is to be expected in boys.’
‘Was he indeed?’ I asked.
‘They said his misbehaviour helped drive his mother to her early grave.’ She gave me a sharp look, suddenly realizing she had said too much. ‘That doesn’t excuse his vile murder, though.’
‘No, indeed. It does not.’ I was going to add that I believed the real murderer could still be at large, but Lady Mirfyn took my words for agreement, nodded with satisfaction and looked at Lady Honor.
‘Our hostess is a learned woman,’ she said with a note of disapproval. ‘But I suppose she has the status of a widow and may live independently if she chooses. It is not a fate I would wish for.’
I heard a loud whisper from Norfolk to Marchamount. ‘I’ll not take the boy up unless she agrees.’ I lowered my head, trying to catch the serjeant’s reply, but he spoke softly. ‘Damn it,’ the duke hissed, ‘she’ll do as I command.’
‘I fear she won’t.’ I heard Marchamount this time.
‘God’s death, I’ll not be defied by a woman. Tell her I’ll do nothing for the boy unless I get what I want. She’s skating on thin ice.’ I saw the duke take a long swig from his glass, then stare at Lady Honor. He was red-faced now and I remembered it was said he was often drunk and could turn brutal then.
Lady Honor met his eyes. The duke smiled and raised his glass. She raised her glass in return, with a smile that looked nervous to me. A servant appeared by her side and whispered something. She nodded and, looking relieved, stood up. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ she said. ‘Many of you have heard of the edible, yellow things from the New World that have been raising eyebrows since they arrived last month.’ She paused, and there were guffaws of bawdy laughter from some of the men. ‘Well, we have some tonight on beds of marzipan. Ladies and gentlemen, the sweetest fruit of the New World.’
She sat down and there was more laughter, and clapping, as the servants laid half a dozen silver trays on the table. There, on beds of marzipan, lay strange, pale yellow crescents. I understood the bawdy laughter, for the things were the size and almost the shape of a big erect cock.
‘So this is what everyone is laughing about,’ Lady Mirfyn said. ‘Such naughtiness.’ She giggled, turning innocently girlish as rich matrons will when confronted with bawdy humour.
I picked up one of the strange fruits and bit into it. It was unyielding, with a bitter taste. Then I saw people were peeling back the skins to reveal a pale yellow fruit within. I followed their example. It was floury, rather tasteless.
‘What are these called?’ I asked Lady Mirfyn, who had also taken one.
‘They have no name I know of,’ she said. She looked down the laughing table, shaking her head indulgently. ‘Such naughtiness.’
I heard my name on Lady Honor’s lips and turned to find her smiling at me. ‘The mayor says you have a knotty case for the council, involving the suppressed monasteries,’ she said.
‘Ay, Lady Honor. I fear we lost the first round, but we shall gain the second. It is a matter of the City’s rights to regulate these buildings for the good of all the citizens.’
Mayor Hollyes nodded seriously. ‘I hope so, sir. People don’t understand that the regulations on cleanliness need to be enforced to keep away the foul humours that bring plague. And so many houses are let out as poor tenements now.’ He spoke animatedly, as one who has mounted a hobby horse. ‘You heard about the house near the Joiners’ Hall that collapsed last month? Killed fourteen tenants and four passers-by—’
‘Let them all fall!’ There was a shout from the head of the table and all eyes turned to the duke. He slurred his words and I saw that he was, indeed, drunk. His conversation with Marchamount seemed to have put him in a foul temper. ‘The more houses fall on the diseased populace of this great cesspit the better. Perhaps that will scare some into going back to their parishes where they belong, to work on the land as they did in our fathers’ time.’
A silence fell on the company, as deep as had fallen at the Lincoln’s Inn dinner. The Vaughan boy looked as though he wished to crawl under the table.
‘Well, we may all agree much needs amending,’ Lady Honor said. She tried to make her voice light, but it had a strained quality. ‘Did not Bishop Gardiner preach a sermon last week, saying all must labour according to their station to keep the realm in proper order?’ As she quoted these anodyne words from the leading conservative bishop she looked round the table, hoping for someone to help defuse the topic. She did not wish for controversy tonight, it seemed.
‘So we must, Lady Honor,’ I said, stepping into the breach. She gave me a smile of gratitude as I stumbled o
n. ‘We must all aim to work for the common good.’
The duke snorted. ‘Your work. Pen-pushing. I remember you, lawyer, you were with that churl who spouted Lutheran sentiments at me last Sunday.’ I confess I quailed under his cold, hard stare. ‘Are you a Lutheran, too, lawyer?’
Every eye turned to me. To answer yes was to risk a charge of heresy. For a moment my voice caught, I was too frightened to answer. I saw one of the women rub a hand across her face, leaving a smear of rouge. There was another rumble of thunder, closer now.
‘No, your grace,’ I said. ‘A follower of Erasmus only.’
‘That Dutch pederast. I heard he lusted after another monk when he was a boy, and d’you know what his name was, eh?’ He looked round the table, grinning now. ’Rogerus. Roger-us, hey?’ He gave a sudden bark of laughter that broke the spell. The men up and down the table began laughing with him. I sank back in my chair, my heart thudding, as the duke turned to young Henry Vaughan and began telling tales of his soldiering days.
Lady Honor clapped her hands. ‘Some music, now.’ Two lute players appeared together with a gaudily dressed young man, who began singing popular songs, loud enough to hear but not too loud to stifle conversation. I looked down the table. The conversation had become desultory; between the heat, the drink and the sweet food most of the diners looked sticky and tired. Further sweetmeats followed, including a model of the House of Glass itself made of marzipan set with strawberries, but the guests only picked at it.
The young man was trilling a lament, ‘Ah, Gentle Robyn,’ and the diners stopped talking to listen. It caught the gloomy mood that seemed to have fallen on the company. Norfolk, alone, was talking to Marchamount again. Lady Honor caught my eye and leaned forward.
‘Thank you for trying to help me earlier,’ she said. ‘I am sorry it turned out ill.’
‘I was warned your table talk could be controversial.’ I leaned across to her. ‘Lady Honor, I must talk with you—’
Her face was suddenly wary. ‘In the courtyard,’ she said quietly, ‘afterwards.’
Everyone jumped as a crack of thunder sounded from outside. A draught of cool air swept through the room. People murmured with relief and someone said, ‘Is this the rain at last?’
Lady Honor took the words as her cue and stood up with an air of relief. ‘It is a little early, but perhaps you should leave now, get on the road before the rain starts.’
People got up, brushing the backs of their robes and skirts where they had stuck to the benches. Everyone bowed as the duke rose to his feet, stumbling slightly. He bowed curtly to his hostess and strode unsteadily from the room.
As the guests went to take their farewell of Lady Honor I hung back. I saw Marchamount bend close to her and speak intently. As at Lincoln’s Inn, her reply did not seem to satisfy him; he was frowning slightly as he turned away. As he passed me he paused and raised his eyebrows.
‘Be careful, Shardlake,’ he said. ‘I could have had the duke as a friend for you, but you seem to court his disapproval. If the times change, that could have consequences.’ He gave me a cold nod, then left the chamber.
Consequences, I thought: if Norfolk supplanted Cromwell there would be grim consequences for all but the papists. And if I could not find Greek Fire the king would be in a rage. Was that what whoever was behind this wanted, a papist victory? Or only profit?
I made my way downstairs and stood outside in the courtyard by the door. There was another rumble of thunder, closer now. The evening air seemed to sing with the tension of it. No one else came out that way; I guessed they were taking a direct route to the stables. I wondered what it was that Norfolk wanted so much to get from Lady Honor. Something Marchamount knew about.
There was a touch at my elbow. I jumped and turned round. Lady Honor stood beside me. Her strong, square face had a hectic look, as well it might after the evening’s events.
‘I am sorry, Master Shardlake, I startled you.’
I bowed. ‘Not at all, Lady Honor.’
She sighed heavily. ‘That was a disaster. I have never seen the duke in such bad humour, I am sorry for the trouble he caused you.’ She shook her head. ‘It was my fault.’
‘Was it? Why?’
‘I should have got the servants to watch his glass,’ she said. She took a deep breath, then looked at me directly. ‘Well, you have some questions for me. Serjeant Marchamount has told me what happened to the Gristwoods,’ she added quietly.
‘He is a friend, the serjeant?’
‘A friend, ay,’ she said quickly. ‘I am afraid there is little I can tell you. Like Serjeant Marchamount I was only a messenger. I took a package to Lord Cromwell for the serjeant, passed a message that the contents would be of great interest to him. It was after one of my banquets, in circumstances rather like this.’ She smiled wryly. ‘That was all; further messages went via Lincoln’s Inn. I never even met Gristwood.’
Something about her speech was too pat. And now I was close to her, I realized with a shock that the scent she wore was the same musky odour the Greek Fire papers had had about them.
‘Did you know what the package was?’ I asked.
‘Papers relating to the old secret of Greek Fire. Serjeant Marchamount told me. I suppose he shouldn’t have done but he does like impressing me.’ She laughed nervously.
‘How long did you have the papers?’
‘A few days.’
‘And you looked at them?’
She paused and took a deep breath, her bosom rising.
‘I know you did,’ I said gently. I did not want to hear her lie.
She gave me a startled look. ‘How?’
‘Because that alluring scent you wear was on them. A faint trace - I could not place it till just now.’
She bit her lip. ‘I fear I have a woman’s curiosity in full share, Master Shardlake. Yes, I read them. I resealed the package afterwards.’
‘Did you understand them?’
‘All except the alchemy books. I understood enough to make me wish I’d left them alone.’ She looked at me directly then. ‘It was wrong, I know. But as I told you I am as curious as a cat.’ She shook her head. ‘But I know, too, when something is better left alone.’
‘This means that you are the only person who handled those papers to open them. Unless Marchamount did.’
‘Gabriel is too careful to do that.’
But he knew this was about Greek Fire. Had he told Norfolk? Was Norfolk pressing Lady Honor to tell him more? I felt my guts tighten at the thought Norfolk himself might be involved. Was that why he had remembered me?
‘Did you think the papers actually held the secret of Greek Fire?’ I asked her.
She hesitated, then looked me in the eye. ‘It seemed to me perhaps they did. The account of the old soldier was very clear. And those papers were old, they weren’t some forgery.’
‘One was torn.’
‘I saw. I did not tear it.’ For the first time I saw a look of fear in her eyes.
‘I know. That was the formula. The Gristwoods kept it back.’ Somewhere over the river lightning flashed. Another crack of thunder sounded, making us both start. Lady Honor’s mouth was tight with worry. She looked at me earnestly. ‘Master Shardlake, will you have to tell Lord Cromwell I looked at the papers?’ She swallowed.
‘I must, Lady Honor. I am sorry.’
She swallowed. ‘Will you ask him to deal with me kindly?’
‘If you truly told no one, no harm has been done.’
‘I didn’t, I swear.’
‘Then I will tell him you admitted frankly that you read the papers.’ But I doubted she would have done so had I not told her I recognized her scent.
She let out a sigh of relief. ‘Tell him I am sorry for what I did. I confess I have been worried I would be found out.’
‘You must have been afraid when Serjeant Marchamount told you the Gristwoods were dead.’
‘Yes, I was shocked when I heard they had been killed. I have been so foolish,?
?? she added with sudden passion.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘foolishness may be forgiven.’ I hoped Cromwell would agree.
She looked at me curiously. ‘You have a bloody trade, sir. Two murders to investigate.’
‘Believe it or not, my specialism is property law.’
‘Did that old shrew Lady Mirfyn tell you anything useful about the Wentworths? I saw you talking to her.’
Truly she missed little. ‘Not much. All still depends on getting Elizabeth to talk. And I have been neglecting that matter.’
‘You care about her.’ She had recovered her composure quickly; her tone was light again.
‘She is my client.’
She nodded, the pearls in her hood catching the light from the window. ‘Perhaps you are a man of too gentle feeling to deal with blood and death.’ She smiled softly.
‘As I told you last week, I am a mere jobbing lawyer.’
She shook her head, smiling. ‘No, you are more than that. I thought so when I first saw you.’ She inclined her head, then said, ‘I felt your whole being resound with sadness.’
I stared at her in astonishment; I felt tears prick suddenly at the corners of my eyes and blinked them away.
She shook her head. ‘Forgive me. I say too much. If I were a common woman, I would be called malapert.’
‘You are certainly out of the common run, Lady Honor.’
She looked over the courtyard. There was another rumble of thunder after a flash of lightning, which showed sadness in her face. ‘I miss my husband still, though it has been three years. People say I married him for his money, but I loved him. And we were friends.’
‘That is a fine thing in a marriage.’
She inclined her head and smiled. ‘But he left me the memories of our time together and also a widow’s status. I am an independent woman, Master Shardlake, I have much to be grateful for.’
‘I am sure you are worthy of that status, my lady.’
‘Not all men would agree.’ She moved away a little and stood by the fountain, facing me in the gloom.