Until Minuette had found it in the very heart of Framlingham, hidden in the altar of the lady chapel. Elizabeth searched Mary’s face, and could not find deception there. Was this one of those things that had Rochford so worried—that he could not believe Mary would not have known if Norfolk had the inflammatory Penitent’s Confession in his hands? And if she had not known, did that mean Norfolk himself had no idea that the forged document was concealed in his house? If that were true, it indeed meant someone else had planted it to bring down the Howard family.
And that someone remained undiscovered. Elizabeth sighed.
Mary was no fool. “Was that the wrong answer?” she asked.
“Not if it is true.”
“I do not lie, sister. Say whatever else you like about me, but you know that I do not lie.”
Not even to make her own life easier. No, Mary was inflexible and fanatic and damned irritating, but she was not a liar.
Mary went on, cannily enough. “You will not be staying here at Syon House, now that Northumberland has overreached with his son’s marriage. Does that mean the king will release me from this pretense of confinement?”
“That is for the king to say,” Elizabeth said bluntly.
“I hear he will join you at Richmond shortly. Do you think…” Mary hesitated. Elizabeth knew how it pained her to plead. “Will you ask William to see me when he arrives? And if he will not see me, at least ask him if I may return to Beaulieu.”
Elizabeth said nothing for a long moment, then she nodded curtly. “I will ask.”
What else could she do? Mary, however reluctantly and acrimoniously, was her sister. Though Henry’s three children might have wildly different temperaments, they shared a certain turn of mind that was instantly recognizable—the call of blood, perhaps.
When they had bade Mary goodbye, they found John Dudley waiting for them a courteous distance down the corridor—close enough to keep an eye on the doorway, but not close enough to eavesdrop. That was a courtesy afforded because of Elizabeth’s status. If Mary were to have less exalted visitors, John Dudley would ensure he knew every word that was spoken. As he walked them out of Syon House, they were joined by another of Northumberland’s sons, Ambrose. Though Elizabeth did not usually deal privately with Robert’s family—only when their interests impinged on wider affairs—she knew that Ambrose was Robert’s favorite amongst his brothers.
It was Ambrose who spoke first. “I understand you have met my father’s newest scholar, Dr. Dee.”
“Yes, we met him at Christmas at court. He is quite…knowledgeable.” And disconcerting, Elizabeth thought.
“John and I have just had word that Dr. Dee will be coming to Syon House with Robert the day after tomorrow. It would be an honour if the two of you would join us for dinner while they are in residence.” He nodded politely to Minuette, including her.
How much of that was planned solely to tempt her? Elizabeth wondered. She had expected Robert would find his way to her before the rest of the court caught up, but she hadn’t thought it would be quite this quick.
Still, though Northumberland was out of favour, and Elizabeth slightly out of temper with Robert because of Guildford’s stupidity, she had no wish to decline. “It would be our pleasure.”
17 March 1555
Richmond Palace
I was quite right that we would not be spending much time with Mary. I don’t blame Elizabeth, for her sister is not the easiest of company. And I find myself uncomfortably reminded of Framlingham whenever I am with the Lady Mary. I feel as though I should apologize to her for the violence that ended in her confinement, although Giles’s death had nothing to do with Mary and, apparently, nothing to do with the Penitent’s Confession, either. I was so certain last fall that I had solved that puzzle! So certain that I could lay Alyce’s pregnancy—and her death—at the feet of Giles Howard. I wish I still could, for the belief that I was avenging my friend kept my guilt at bay. Now I have only the memory of his violence and my own, and it is vastly less comfortable.
But I cannot lie to myself simply for comfort. The evidence against Giles—and perhaps all of the Howards—has vanished like smoke and I am left with only Alyce herself to guide me. I have been tracking down the women we both served within Queen Anne’s household, but I had guessed before I began that it would be pointless. Alyce kept to herself, and if she didn’t let secrets slip with me, it’s not likely they slipped at all. Not at court, at least.
And as I have heard nothing from my stepfather about his investigations, I have been quite at a loss. Until yesterday’s visit to Syon House, when I found out that Dr. Dee is arriving with Robert. Now I have an idea: an unorthodox one, to say the least. We shall see if Elizabeth will give me permission.
At first Elizabeth resisted Minuette’s plan. As she said pointedly, “Alyce de Clare is dead and buried and you cannot change that. And we already know the why of it—she was a spy who got herself with child and tumbled down a staircase.”
But Minuette refused to give up, and she had learned stubbornness from Elizabeth’s own mother. “She didn’t get herself with child alone! And I’m not convinced she simply fell down that staircase. Either way, her spying on Queen Anne was done at someone else’s command. If it wasn’t on behalf of the Howard family, then whoever wanted to plaster those broadsides about your mother’s past around court has never been exposed. Wouldn’t you like to discover the man who defamed your brother’s birth?”
And so at last Elizabeth agreed to summon Dr. Dee to see them at Richmond after his arrival with Robert at Syon House. Their dinner with the Dudley sons had been somewhat stilted, to say the least. With Mary present as well, and the Dudley sons’ father still banished from court—not to mention Guildford’s continuing absence and Margaret Clifford’s confinement to the Tower—there were topics aplenty to be avoided.
Elizabeth’s permission to Minuette was conditional on her own presence at the meeting. So when Dr. Dee arrived at Richmond, Minuette stood back and waited while Elizabeth greeted their guest.
“Dr. Dee,” Elizabeth said, “thank you for coming to see us.”
“Of course, Your Highness. It is I who am flattered by your invitation.”
Minuette was impressed with his confidence; if Dee was at all concerned about why he’d been summoned to a private audience with royalty, he didn’t show it. He just stood there looking from Elizabeth to Minuette with an inscrutable expression on that somewhat ageless face. As though he knew plenty of things that he did not care to express.
Elizabeth waved him to a chair. “Please,” she said, then indicated that Minuette should begin.
