‘When is the great Magnus to be brought on?’
Marchamount did not appear to notice the ironic emphasis in her. voice. ‘Not for an hour or so.’
‘I will join you then, I think. I don’t think I can stand that dreadful kerlie-merlie of noise right now. If you will forgive me, I will take a walk along the bank with my ladies.’
Marchamount looked crestfallen. ‘As you wish, Lady Honor—’
‘I will join you by and by. Would any of the other ladies care to join me?’ She looked around. One of the mercers’ wives looked as though she would have, but when she glanced at her husband he shook his head.
‘I’ll join you, Lady Honor,’ I said.
She smiled. ‘Excellent. Company would be pleasant.’
Marchamount shook his head. ‘Surely you don’t prefer the companies of ladies over manly sport, Brother Shardlake?’
‘When has the company of ladies not been preferable to that of bears and dogs?’
Lady Honor laughed. ‘Well said! Lettice, Dorothy, come along.’ She turned and began walking upriver along the Bankside path. I stepped to her side. Her two women walked a few paces behind, with the pair of sword-carrying servants.
Lady Honor’s wide skirt brushed against my legs and I felt the wickerwork frame underneath, which held the farthingale out from her legs. I thought of the legs underneath the frame and blushed momentarily.
She made a moue of distaste as another loud roar came from the stadium. ‘A manly sport indeed. It’ll be manly when they set a man on the bear instead of dogs.’ She turned to me with a wicked smile. ‘Gabriel Marchamount perhaps, how d’you think he’d fare?’
I laughed. ‘Not well. I do not like bear-baiting either. The taking of pleasure in another creature’s suffering.’
‘Oh, it’s the noise I can’t stand. You sound like one of those extreme reformers, sir, that would ban all pleasures.’
‘No, I have always felt thus.’
We walked slowly on. ‘They’re naught but dumb brutes.’ Lady Honor sighed. ‘But no, you do not see humanity at its most edifying at the baiting. To be honest I was afraid I might faint, it would be so hot in there today, and smelling of blood. Ah, this is better. Goodwife Quaill looked as though she’d have liked to join us, but she wouldn’t speak unless her husband allowed her.’
‘The advantages of a widow’s independence,’ I said.
She smiled broadly, showing her white teeth. ‘You remember our conversation. Yes indeed. I am widening my business interests, you know. I have bought a workshop for the sewing of silk garments down by St Paul’s. Gabriel helped me, he’s good at that sort of thing.’ She smiled again. ‘But I dare say you are too.’
‘I could do with some new clients,’ I said ruefully. ‘Mine are abandoning me.’
‘More fool them. Why is that?’
‘I do not know.’ I changed the subject. ‘You hire women to do the sewing?’
‘Yes. Silk is such a difficult material; many ladies prefer to have their clothes made up for them now. I have six seamstresses working there, all ex-nuns.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. From St Clare’s, St Helen‘s, Clerkenwell nunnery. Some of the nuns were happy enough to leave the cloister, I’ve heard one or two of them have ended up down there - ’ she nodded back at the Southwark stews - ‘but my women are older. Pitiful creatures, afraid to walk in the streets. They’re happy enough to work at sewing.’
‘It must be hard for them,’ I said.
‘The poor old things like working together again. I feel it is important the ex-religious are found places where they feel secure. Everyone should have their settled place in society. If proper attention was given to that, we should not have all these masterless men roaming the streets.’ She shook her head. ‘It must be a troubling thing to have no place. One must feel very insecure.’ For the first time it struck me that for all Lady Honor’s sophistication there were whole areas of the world, indeed of the very city in which she lived, of which she could have no conception.
‘It is better that people should have the chance to rise if they have the merit,’ I said.
‘But so few have, Matthew, so few.’ Her use of my Christian name gave me an unexpected frisson. ‘I think you do, but you are not ordinary.’
‘You compliment me, Lady Honor,’ I said, bowing hastily to cover my confusion.
‘There is such a thing as natural nobility.’
I blushed, and thought suddenly: I must not let my feelings get the better of me. I must not. ‘The king’s government is full of new men,’ I said hastily. ‘Cromwell. Richard Rich.’ I dropped that name to see how she would react, but she only laughed.
‘Rich. A cruel brute in a velvet doublet. Did you know, his wife is a mere grocer’s daughter?’
‘She is mistress of Barty’s now.’
By now we had walked some distance up the bank, as far as the Paris garden, the houses starting to give way to open countryside. Lady Honor stopped and looked across the river at the bulk of Bridewell Palace. Her ladies and servants halted at the same moment, ten paces behind. A cloud passed across the sun, softening the light and easing the heat.
She looked at me seriously. ‘Matthew, I do hope I am not in trouble with Lord Cromwell. It preys on my mind. Did you talk with him?’
‘I repeated what you said. He spoke of you admiringly.’
She looked relieved. ‘Yes, they all like coming to my banquets, Lord Cromwell and the duke and all the courtiers. But in these times - well, I know each side wonders if my sympathies lie with the other. When in truth—’ she gave a little laugh—‘I am with neither. I know if the duke learned I was helping Lord Cromwell in connection with secret enquiries, he would not be pleased.’ She smiled sadly. ‘You see how I am trapped. Yet I only ever wanted good conversation round my table.’
I grimaced. ‘In these times it is hard to avoid getting caught in the tangles of the great. Often I think I would like to retire to the country.’
‘I am thinking of escaping to Lincolnshire, to my family estates. Though I love London, unlike my nephew. But I suppose the earl would want me to stay while this business is on.’
‘Yes. I think he would, my lady.’ I hesitated. ‘I spoke with Serjeant Marchamount in the boat coming over.’
‘I saw your heads together.’ Her eyes were suddenly watchful. ‘Were you checking what I had told you?’
‘Yes, I had to. You must understand that.’
Her face reddened. ‘And I thought we might relax today, have a pleasant day out.’
‘Come, Lady Honor, you know better than that.’
Her lips set. ‘Do I? Is it so strange I should hope for a little converse with a congenial companion, having answered all his enquiries?’
I was not to be distracted. ‘Marchamount appeared surprised when I said the Duke of Norfolk was after your lands.’ I hesitated. ‘My impression was that that was not the subject the two of them were discussing at the banquet, when he spoke of getting Marchamount to press you.’
‘Am I to have no peace?’ she asked softly. She closed her eyes a moment, then met mine again, fiercely. ‘Matthew, I swore on the Bible that Norfolk has asked me no questions about Greek Fire and I swore truly. And it is true that he is after my lands. That is how it started.’
‘How what started?’
‘Something that became more complicated. A family matter that is none of your business. It has no connection with your wretched papers and formulae.’
‘Can you be sure of that?’
‘Yes.’ She sighed wearily. ‘I am going to say no more, Matthew.’ She raised a hand. ‘If you want you can tell Cromwell and he can have me brought before him. He will get the same answer. Some matters are private.’
‘The days of private matters among aristocratic families are gone, my lady. Such matters led to the wars of Lancaster and York.’
She turned a face to me that was utterly weary. ‘Yes, all power is with the House of Tudor now.
Yet is it not hard to take seriously, the king as head of the Church deciding how his people should relate to God, when his policy is ruled by his fickle passions?’
She spoke softly, but nonetheless I glanced back nervously at her servants. She smiled ruefully. ‘I have been accompanied everywhere by servants since I was a baby. I know how to pitch my voice so they cannot hear.’
‘That is still dangerous talk, Lady Honor.’
‘It’s the talk of the streets. But you are right, these days we have to be careful what we say.’
We walked on for a little in silence. ‘It is not easy always having servants around one,’ she said suddenly. ‘Often I wish them far away. I remember once when I was a little girl my mother took me to the roof of our house. She showed me all the fields and woods, stretching away in every direction. She said, “They are ours, Honor, as far as you can see, and once our family owned the country all the way to Nottingham.” It was a windy spring day, she held my hand as we stood on the flat leads. Her ladies and my governess were there with their dresses billowing in the wind and all at once I wished I could fly away over those woods and fields, alone, like a bird.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘But we are bound to the earth, are we not? We are not birds. We have responsibilities. Mine is my family.’
‘I am sorry I pressed you again, but—’
‘No more, Matthew, I am weary.’
‘Perhaps we should return to the baiting—’
She shook her head. ‘No, I cannot face it. Would you walk with me a little further, to the next river stairs? I will send a servant back to say I have been taken faint.’ She screwed up her eyes as the cloud passed and the hot sun appeared again, bringing sparkling waves of silver to the brown Thames water.
We walked on slowly. I felt a boor for constantly pressing her thus. But I had to; my feelings, and hers, were unimportant. A large barge, full of building materials, passed us on the way to Whitehall and for a moment I imagined it ablaze from end to end, the water around it on fire.
‘Perhaps you think my devotion to family foolish,’ she said, interrupting my grim thoughts.
‘Not foolish. Single-minded, perhaps.’
‘Were not things better when the aristocracy owned the lands rather than it being turned over to these new men who put it to pasture and throw the peasantry on the road? Sheep eat men, they say.’
‘Ay, and it is a great abuse. But I would not have learning and the chance to rise denied the common people.’
She shook her head though she smiled. ‘I think you consider me innocent in some ways.’ Jesu, I thought, how sharp she is. ‘But I venture to say you are the innocent one. For every man who comes to town and manages to rise from the common herd there are a hundred, a thousand, who starve in the gutters.’
‘Then measures should be taken for their welfare.’
‘That will never happen. The lawyers and merchants in parliament will never allow it. Is that no so? They have put down all the reforms Cromwell had brought before them.’
I hesitated. ‘Yes.’
‘So much for your new man.’
I shook my head. ‘Lady Honor, I think you are the cleverest woman I have met for a long time.’
‘You are not used to bright converse from women, that is all.’ She smiled at me. ‘I think, Matthew, we disagree about the right ordering of society. Well, that is good, disagreement adds flavour to discourse. And I am glad you have known other women who were not content to drop their eyes and talk of cooking and embroidery.’
‘I knew one.’ I paused, fingering my mourning ring. ‘I wished to marry her, but she died.’
‘I am sorry,’ she said. ‘I know what it is like to lose a loved one. Is that ring for her?’
‘Katy was engaged to another by then.’ How Lady Honor could make me speak from the heart, of things I told few others.
‘That is doubly sad. Did you not press your suit then?’ Again, her directness was hardly good manners, but I did not mind.
‘I did not. I was afraid she would not have me.’
‘Because of your—your condition?’ Even Lady Honor struggled for a moment to find the appropriate word.
‘Ay.’ I looked away, across the river.
‘You are a fool to worry about that. You will waste your opportunities.’
‘Perhaps.’ I stepped aside to let a young couple pass, their pet dog gambolling at their heels. Even as her words warmed me I told myself: be careful.
‘Perhaps you think all women seek in a man is a tall carriage and a fine calf,’ she said.
‘Those do not harm a man’s prospects.’
‘They are no help if he has coarse features or a poor wit. My husband was near twenty years older than me when we married. Yet we were happy. Happy.’
‘Perhaps I should leave off this ring,’ I said. ‘I confess I think of Katy seldom now.’
‘Mourning can become a fetter.’ She gave me a direct look. ‘When Harcourt died I decided I would not let it bind me. He would not have wanted that.’
I saw we had reached Barge House Stairs. A wherry stood there, waiting for business. ‘Shall we cross here?’ I asked. ‘My horse is down by Three Cranes Wharf, we could return there.’
‘Very well. A moment - I must send Paul back with a message or Gabriel Marchamount will think I have been robbed.’ She walked over to where her servants and ladies stood, and spoke to the men.
Then I turned and saw Sabine and Avice Wentworth standing on the path in their bright summer dresses, their blue eyes startlingly wide, no doubt from nightshade potion. Their grandmother stood between them, her arms linked with theirs, still in her black mourning dress. The girls stood stock-still, looking at me. Their quality of wary, watchful stillness was unnerving.
‘What is it, girls?’ the old woman asked sharply. Her face was white and papery in the daylight, more like a skull than ever with those withered eye sockets.
‘It is Master Shardlake, Grandam,’ Sabine said soothingly.
I bowed quickly. The old woman stood still a moment longer, as though sniffing the air. Then her face set. ‘I had hoped to hear your enquiries were done, sir. I still wear mourning for my grandson, as you see. I will not come out of it until justice is done to his murderer.’ She spoke calmly, looking straight ahead. Lady Honor returned to my side and looked at the Wentworths enquiringly. One of her servants was trotting back to the bear pit.
‘You must excuse me, Goodwife Wentworth,’ I said. ‘I have a lady present.’
‘A lady? You? The crookback lawyer?’
‘You are hardly one to mock the deformities of others, woman.’ Lady Honor spoke sharply.
Goodwife Wentworth turned her head towards the strange voice. ‘My deformities came with age,’ she snapped back, ‘as they will come to you in time. The lawyer’s deformity is one he was born with and such things speak of an evil nature.’
‘She should be put in the river for speaking so,’ Lady Honor said hotly.
The old beldame smiled. ‘On, Sabine,’ she said. The girls led her on, heads down, but I caught a smile on the older girl’s face. I stood looking after them, breathing heavily.
‘Who was that beldame?’ Lady Honor asked. ‘She has a face from a nightmare.’
‘Sir Edwin Wentworth’s mother.’
‘Ah. And the girls would be his daughters.’
‘Yes. Thank you for defending me, but there was no need. People say such things.’
‘Because they discern it is the way to hurt you.’ She looked genuinely annoyed. Frowning, she picked up her skirts and began descending the steps.
In the boat the attendant ladies, one on either side of Lady Honor, cast curious glances at me from under lowered eyelids. They had seen everything. I avoided their gaze. The tide was going out and there was an unpleasant smell now from the rubbish-strewn mud at the river’s edge.
Lady Honor turned to one of her ladies, who was trailing a hand in the water. ‘Mind out, Lettice, there’s a great turd there.’ The girl pul
led out her hand with a squeal. Lady Honor shook her head slightly at her foolishness. For all she had said she would like to be free of servants it struck me that to be attended everywhere, all your life, by retainers and servants, must make one feel a sort of earthly divinity. No wonder she had such family pride.
The boat bumped into the mud at Three Cranes Wharf. Lady Honor raised her eyebrows and smiled wryly. ‘Well, here we are. I think I shall take the boat on to Queenhithe, then go home.’ She paused. ‘Visit me again soon. Give me news of how the converse with Lord Cromwell goes.’
‘I will, Lady Honor.’ She knew I could not leave the mystery that lay between her and the duke, but clearly she was determined to say no more. I stood up awkwardly and bowed. Planks had been set across the mud. I stepped onto them gingerly and crossed to the steps. By the time I grasped the rail at the stairs and could turn safely, the boat was sculling down the river. I shouldered my way through the crowds to the stables.
I felt as though caught in the middle of some dreadful dance between Lady Honor and Cromwell, used by them both. Yet her indignation at the way the Wentworth hag had spoken to me had been genuine. If I could once get out of the toils of secrets and half-truths, I knew there was no one whose company I would rather have. I rode home with a mind sorely unsettled.
AT LAST I REACHED Chancery Lane. As I let myself into my hall, Barak was walking downstairs.
‘You’re back early,’ he said. ‘Thank God. I wasn’t sure I could keep her much longer.’
‘Who?’
He did not answer, but walked back into my parlour. I followed him. There, sitting uneasily on a hard chair, the brand prominent on her square pale cheek, was Madam Neller.
‘She’s back,’ Barak said. ‘Bathsheba Green.’
I looked at Madam Neller. She nodded. ‘Came back last night with her brother, looking for shelter. Pock-face almost got them two days ago and they had to run from the friends they were with. I’ve let them stay, they’re at Southwark now.’ She looked at me fixedly. ‘You promised me two more half angels if I brought you the news.’
‘You shall have them,’ I said.
She fixed me with her hard stare. ‘I’ve persuaded them to talk to you. Convinced them it’s the only course. But not at my house. I’m not having you coming down there and making more trouble. I’ve lost enough business as it is. More than two half-angel’s worth,’ she added, giving me a meaningful look.