The Virgin's War (Tudor Legacy #3)(82)

“Do you know what you are doing, Your Highness?” Arundel straightened, his light eyes piercing beneath that distinctive widow’s peak.

“Meeting with you. Should I be doing something different?”

“You should be deciding which way you’re going to jump when Spanish troops land on England’s shores.”

Anabel inhaled sharply. She forced herself to be still, to take a moment before replying. “My decision is taken. Is yours?” Neither of them were speaking plainly. They were each free to take the other at the value of what they said—or listen deeper, to what they left unsaid.

Arundel shot a look at the closed door, kept his voice low and his words noncommittal. “Do we want to have this discussion now?”

“You’re the one who asked me here.”

“My center of power, what remains of it, is far south of Hull.”

“But your influence amongst certain elements of the North is…not negligible.”

“Navarro suspects.”

“He can suspect all he likes. His influence is negligible.”

“Not if it’s targeted properly.”

“If you have something to say, Lord Arundel, say it. Better yet, do something more useful than speak.”

Arundel narrowed his eyes. “I dislike Protestants, Your Highness. I dislike Protestant queens. I dislike being told how and whether I may practice the tenets of the True Faith.”

“And?”

“And…” He drew out the word slowly. “I dislike being manipulated because of my faith. Fortunately for your cause, Navarro has been even more egregious in his manipulation than you have. And beneath all the insults from this government, I am English. I have no wish to see Spanish troops holding London.”

“My immediate concern is not Spanish troops in London, but Spanish troops in Hull. Or Scarborough. Or York.”

“That should be your concern. I have had word from an…acquaintance in Scotland. The day before yesterday, Queen Mary was liberated from Blackness Castle by Lord Maxwell. She has been taken aboard one of the Spanish ships that sailed from Ireland weeks ago.”

“Those missing ships,” she said under her breath.

“Quite.”

“You’re telling me the moment is at hand.”

“Very nearly so. Those Spanish ships expect you to welcome them—if not quite with open arms, at least without a serious show of defiance. After all, they have Mary Stuart with them. If you will not be reasonable, they have a Catholic queen quite prepared to take vengeance on the North.”

“Do you know where they will land?”

“I do not.”

He looked at her guilelessly, and she could not tell if he was lying. Certainly he seemed to be going to some trouble to warn her. “And if they land in Hull, Lord Arundel, what will you and your armed men do?”

“That,” he said with a faint smile, “will depend on your actions. Your Highness.”

He would not be drawn further. Anabel left him then, for she was afraid of losing her temper. She needed to get out of Hull, go somewhere she could think clearly without having to walk the line between truth and lie. Kit was waiting where she’d left him in an antechamber off the stairs.

“Let’s go,” she said. “Now, before we can be stopped.”

“You think we’ll be stopped?”

“I think Navarro might try.”

If he meant to stop her, Navarro didn’t get the chance. They were out of the castle and beyond the city before most people had any idea she’d ever been there.

“Back to Middleham?” Kit asked.

“Too far. I need to be central, so I can move quickly when needed. We’ll go to York. Send couriers out ahead to Middleham, let the council know to meet us there.”

But when they reached the safe streets of York, Anabel discovered that the couriers had not been needed. Her council and critical household members were waiting for her at the Treasurer’s House inside the city walls.

She didn’t have to look far to know why and how.

Pippa smiled serenely, the soft light almost hiding the hollows in her face. “I knew you’d come.”

Anabel let out a sigh between laughter and tears. “Let’s get to work.”

—

From the moment Kit laid eyes on the newly defiant Navarro in Hull, he’d been aching to fight. He didn’t mind battle—what he hated was the long run-up to it, the days or weeks of delay and indecision that left him too anxious to sleep properly and too distracted to concentrate. So while Anabel worked with her council, Kit spent most of his time out and about in the city. York was a pretty place, but it wasn’t the splendour of York Minster or the appeal of its narrow medieval streets that kept his attention. Mostly, he was watching the citizens. They were a polite lot—but cautious. If a Spanish army turned up outside its walls, Kit could not predict if York would open its gates in order to keep the peace.

In the event, they didn’t have to decide. The city watch had no instructions to keep out recognized members of Her Highness’s household, and so, when faced with fifty men dressed as members of the Princess of Wales’s personal guard, the watch allowed them to pass.

Once the men reached the Treasurer’s House, it took precisely one minute for the threat to become clear. The men were Spanish, and they carried weapons. Not sufficient to take the city—but more than sufficient to take Anabel if they wished.