Page 1 of Her Scandalous Pursuit

PROLOGUE

London

December 1556

A WOMAN RAN down the narrow street, staying close to the wall beneath the overhang of the buildings. There was no time. She was ahead of them—thank God one of Jamie’s urchins had slipped her the message—but she knew they were not far behind. Now that he had the writ for her arrest, he would waste no time.

Hatred burned in her heart for the man who sought to destroy her. Hal told her it was only her invention the man wanted, but Hal was a good man, too ready to assume that quality in others. He didn’t know, as she did, the heart of darkness.

Ducking into the court, she pulled open their door and barred it behind her. “Hal! They’re coming.”

She hurried through her workroom into the family’s living area. A fire burned low in the small fireplace, a pot hanging from the metal arm above it. They had thought to eat before they left, but it was too late now. She ran up the narrow stairs to the level above, where the sleeping quarters lay. Jutting out over the street, it was a larger area than below, with a wide, enclosed room for her and Will, and a smaller one for the children. It was a commodious house, a point of pride for her. She had done well, risen above her former station.

And now they were reduced to fleeing the city like common thieves.

Hal was in the children’s room, filling a sack, and he jumped to his feet, leaving the remainder of the belongings lying on the floor. Guy, the eldest, also turned from his task, his face pale in the dim flicker of the rushlight.

“Are they here?” Hal asked, his voice tight.

“Not yet. But they’ll not be far behind. We must hurry.”

He nodded and snatched up Guy’s cloak to place around the boy’s shoulders. She went to the crib and lifted the little one. The baby didn’t wake, merely turned her head and snuggled into her mother’s warmth.

“Alice,” she whispered, brushing her lips against the dark curls. “Beloved.” Swallowing back her tears, she wrapped the baby’s blanket more tightly around her, pulling down one corner to protect Alice’s head from the cold.

When she turned back to Hal, she saw he had already donned his own cloak. As she held out the baby to him, he grasped her arm. “Come with us, love.”

“I cannot. Thou knowest I cannot.” Her voice shook. “I must destroy it.”

His usually pleasant face darkened. “That wicked thing. I wish—”

“I know. I wish it, as well. But you must get the children to safety. And I must undo the evil I’ve created.” She handed Alice to him and leaned in to kiss each cheek, then his mouth. His free arm lashed around her and he squeezed her to him.

“Follow me. Promise me you will follow.”

“I will.”

He kissed her then, hard and fast, and went down the stairs.

She kneeled before Guy, straightening the tie on his cloak and drinking in her son’s face. “Be strong. Help your father.”

He nodded sharply. “I will. I’ll keep them safe.”

“I know.” This one was like her, perhaps too much so; he wasn’t the sort to look back or give in. He’d charge ahead. Tears sparkled in her eyes, but she blinked them away and kissed him in the same ritual, a peck on each cheek and one on his mouth, then hugged him to her in a last embrace. “Take care.”

She stood up. He looked at her solemnly. “I shan’t see thee again, shall I?”

“I’ll be with thee always.”

He ran down the stairs, and she followed. The baby lay in the chair, still asleep, Hal’s bundle on the floor. Hal had shoved aside the small chest and now he lifted the hatch in the floor. Cold, dank air rushed in from below.

Hal picked up the sack and pulled the strap over his head, adjusting the sack on his back. She went to the cupboard and grabbed her journal, as well as the athame in its scabbard that sat atop it. Going to him, she shoved them into the sack.

“That!” He pulled away. “No. Take it out. I want no part of it.”

“Thou must. Else he will have it. Guard it. Keep it. Promise me.”

His eyes flickered with heat and for an instant she thought he would refuse, but then he jerked his hand, as if throwing aside his thoughts. “I promise.” He bent down to pick up the baby. She lit the wick of the fat tallow candle inside the pierced tin lamp and handed it to him. He held the lamp above the dark hole. “Come, son.”