The Merchant of Dreams (Night's Masque, #2)(136)

"We're not going back to England? What about Charles, and your family estate?"

"We'll go, but not yet. I don't know what else is waiting for me back there."

"What do you mean?"

She listened in horrified silence as he told her about the assassin on Raleigh's ship.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"What good would it have done? Whoever it was sent him, it would have been weeks until they heard the news of his failure, and even if they sent someone else it would take weeks more and I might have been on my way home by then. No, it makes far more sense for them to wait until I return to England."

"'Them' being the guisers, I suppose?"

"Who else? Suffolk must have had accomplices, allies…" An amayi. He swallowed, remembering the nightmare at Hampton Court.

"Will we be safe in Provence?"

"I don't know." He took her hand and kissed it. "I hope so. Safer than England, at any rate."

"What will you tell the servants back in France? They're bound to be curious."

"I'll tell them that my valet Jacob introduced me to his pretty cousin Mina, and that I dismissed him from my service now that I have a wife to look after me."

"They won't believe you."

"What are they going to do about it? You are a woman, after all. I have proof on't." He grinned at her.

"You're as bad as Ned," she muttered, but she let him kiss her anyway.

"So," he said, "we shall all go back to Provence and make a home there together. You, me, and Kit."

"And Sandy."

To her surprise, Mal pulled a face. "Aye. And Sandy."

"What's wrong? I thought your brother meant the world to you?"

"He did. He does. But Kiiren was right." He sighed and shook his head. "Sandy isn't the brother I knew. He's Erishen now. A stranger."

"I'm so sorry." She laid her head on his chest.

"So am I. But I made my decision, that day in Southwark, and there is no going back. Our fates were decided before we were born, Sandy and me. And so it will be with this little one." He looked down at Kit and shook his head. "That's what so wrong. About the guisers. It's not that they pretend to be other than what they are, although that's bad enough. But they steal people's lives. Like this boy's. He'll never know his real family."

"He'll be an English gentleman, instead of a poor Venetian. Isn't that better?"

"I don't know. My head says yes, but my heart…" He kissed her forehead and released her. "Get your belongings together. I'll go and tell Ned and Gabriel. If there's a boat leaving for Marseille tonight, we'll be on it."

Venice shrank into the distance as the Hayreddin made its way out of the lagoon. Despite his determination to leave as soon as possible, Mal had let his wife talk him into waiting for Youssef's return. The Moor was going back to Marseille, after all, and it would be good to travel with someone they knew and trusted.
He turned away from the rail and went down to the weather deck to where his friends were waiting.

"Don't be a fool, Ned," Gabriel was saying. "You cannot possibly climb the rigging with that false hand, you'll fall and kill yourself."

"Then what am I to do with myself all voyage?" Ned scowled and folded the brass arm awkwardly under his unmaimed one.

"You can help me with my play," Gabriel said, taking his elbow. "I shall not be happy with it until I have heard the speeches read aloud, and I can hardly do them all myself."

"Sometimes I think they make a better couple than you and I," Coby said, watching them disappear into the cabin.

"Ned is probably a more obedient wife," Mal replied with a grin.

"Have I not always been obedient?" she asked, her attempt at innocence belied by the twinkle in her eyes.

"You didn't manage to keep my brother out of trouble whilst he was in London."

She looked crestfallen. "You have me there. But if we had not fled England in a rush, we would not have ended up in Venice, and none of this would have happened."

"Or it might," Mal said. "What happened, happened; it is all one."

"Did you love her?"

Mal paused. What answer to give to such a question? If he said yes, she would be angry; if he said no, he would be lying.

"Then you did love her."

He sighed. "I admired her. She was a clever, charming woman, but misguided. No one should hold power for centuries on end. Each generation must make its own way."

"You want to expel the guisers from England." It was not a question.

"Yes."

"They are many, and powerful. How can we hope to prevail against them?"

"We have Suffolk's book; perhaps some secrets can yet be gleaned from that."

"At least we won't have any of the ancients to deal with," she said. "If… If that woman did not lie about them all coming to Venice."

He smiled down at her. "I hope not. But whatever the truth of it, first we must make a safe home for Kit, so that he can return to his people when the time is right."

"And Sandy?"