Heartstone (Matthew Shardlake #5)(177)

‘The French have gone.’

‘The soldiers will stay on board tonight?’

‘Yes, sir. They must be ready to engage the French at first light if need be. Sir, a messenger came. The Privy Council is meeting in the King’s tent in an hour.’

‘God’s death,’ Rich snapped, ‘why didn’t you tell me immediately you came in?’

The man reddened. ‘I—’

‘Messages from the Privy Council must be conveyed at once – how many times have I told you? Get out,’ Rich snapped. ‘But stay near enough to hear if I ring my bell for you.’

‘Yes sir.’ He bowed and left. Rich shook his head. ‘Peel is a dolt,’ he said, ‘but it can be useful sometimes to have people around who understand little, and who fear you.’ He composed his features into that superior, contemptuous smile again. I saw it cost him an effort.

‘Now, Brother Shardlake, let me tell you what I propose. A letter from me to Philip West will get you on the Mary Rose. Then you can tell your friend Leacon that the boy he recruited today is a girl, and bring her back. My servant will get a boat to row you there and back. In return, you will say nothing to anybody about what happened at Rolfswood nineteen years ago. It is Philip West, by the way, who has been paying Ellen Fettiplace’s fees at the Bedlam all these years.’

‘I guessed that.’

‘You can take over responsibility for payment yourself if you like, I don’t care.’

‘You have left her safe all this time? If she had ever talked about the rape—’

‘She never knew my name. And West has always threatened to tell the whole story if anything happened to her.’ Rich’s eye twitched again and he blinked angrily. ‘Well, Brother Shardlake, what do you say? There will likely be a battle tomorrow, next day at the latest.’

‘I need to know the whole story,’ I answered steadily. I needed time to think, too.

‘Do we really have to go into that?’ he snapped impatiently.

‘I do,’ I answered. ‘West’s mother told me of the letter he carried from the King to Anne Boleyn that day.’

‘He told me she had. Stupid old mare.’

‘And I want to know what happened at that foundry.’ I needed to know if Ellen had played any part in the deaths of her father and Gratwyck.

Rich’s eyes narrowed.

‘You must have been near thirty then,’ I said. ‘Much older than West. From what he said it was only a junior official that accompanied him.’

‘I was junior then. Despite my striving, despite my attempts to get the patronage of Thomas More, I had advanced only to a lowly position working for the King’s chamberlain.’ He smiled, an odd smile. ‘Do you believe in fortune, Master Shardlake? Fate?’

‘No.’

‘I like to gamble. The world is like the cards. You wait for a run of luck, then when you have it you use your skill to increase it. What happened with that letter began the run of luck that has led me on to the Privy Council.’

‘How did you know what it contained?’

‘I didn’t.’ He laughed. ‘I wouldn’t have dared touch it if I had. I thought it was just a matter of old Queen Catherine nosing out how long the King’s affair with Anne Boleyn might last. Ridiculous old creature, you should have seen her then. Waddling around with her rosary, fat and shapeless from carrying all those children that died. I had put much effort into getting to know anyone I could at court, and had made friends with an elderly maid-in-waiting in the Queen’s household, one of those wonderful old gossips who knows what everyone is doing. I told her I was a loyal servant of the Queen, someone who did not like to see her disgraced by the Boleyn, and so on.’ He smiled at his cleverness. ‘She told Queen Catherine, and through her it was suggested that I cultivate West; the Queen knew he sometimes carried letters to Anne Boleyn. Then she suggested that I intercept this one. Queen Catherine’s spies in the King’s household must have told her it contained something important. So I arranged to accompany Philip West to Rolfswood.’

‘How did you get hold of the letter?’

‘It is enough for you to know that I did.’

‘No, Sir Richard, if we are to make a bargain I must know everything. Remember, Barak is on the road to London even now.’

Rich set his narrow lips. ‘You have met Philip West. He is a man dominated by his passions, even more when he was younger. And like many who think themselves honourable fellows, what really matters to him is his dignity. His reputation, his vanity. What his mother thinks of him.’ He wrinkled his sharp nose in contempt. ‘I rode to Rolfswood with him that day, and waited at an inn nearby while he went to propose marriage to Ellen Fettiplace.’

‘I thought there was a fight, and that he had not intended to propose to her that day, just talk to her father.’

‘No, no. That was a lie he made up for his parents.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘He had quite a passion for the woman. She was no great beauty but there it is.’ He paused. ‘Ah, you mind my saying that. Perhaps you have a liking for this Ellen, too.’

‘No. I do not.’

Rich shrugged. ‘Well, Philip West was convinced she would accept him, he thought someone of his station would be a good catch for her. But when he returned he told me that she had said no; she did not love him. He was furious, outraged, humiliated. Ranting like a demon in a play. I listened to him maundering on, encouraged him to get more and more drunk in case it gave me a chance to take the letter, but his hand kept going to his shirt where he kept it. He was not going to forget it. Not unless something dramatic happened to distract him. In the end he decided to ride back to Petworth. We had just started out on the road when my second good card turned up. Ellen Fettiplace herself.’