Chapter Thirty-eight

 

another proposes the gaining of the Emperor by money, which is omnipotent with him;

Utopia by Thomas More (translated by H. Morley

 

“Lucas?” Susanna slid down from Parker’s horse, and looked from her brother, loading his bags into a cart at the front of the house, to Parker. Parker said nothing, urging his horse round to the stables, giving her a moment alone with him.

“Your boys told me you were safe, and pardoned.” He placed another trunk in the back of the cart with care. His head was bound, neat and tight, and Susanna knew Maggie must have been round to dress his injury.

“Where are you going?” She looked from the bags to him to the lamp-holding cartsman, waiting patiently on the driving bench, and then stepped in close, put her arms around him. “I was so worried about you, about your head.”

He moved back, disentangling himself from her embrace. “Your betrothed doesn’t share your concern.” He spoke without bitterness.

“Parker told me how you tried to save me. What you risked by giving me that missive.” She paused and then looked straight at him. “What made you go to work for Uncle Louis?” She would never understand that. Why would he risk everything for Louis de Praet?

“He made is sound like an adventure. A lucrative adventure.” Lucas looked away, at the cart horse, blowing its impatience. “Then Margaret gave me that letter and I made the mistake of not just sending word to Uncle Louis, but Heyman, as well. Uncle Louis asked me to keep up correspondence with him, and as we had been friends, it was easy to do. No one on either side looked twice at the letters he sent, but they were written in pre-arranged code, and I passed his information on the English court along. If I had not sent that letter to Heyman before I left, telling him what Margaret wanted me to do, thinking myself so useful, I would never have caused this trouble. I did not know the lengths Heyman would go to keep that letter out of the Queen Katherine’s hands.” He rubbed his forehead.

“It is all right. By chance, this trouble uncovered another plot, to kill the King’s son, Henry Fitzroy. It saved his life.”

Lucas looked up at that. “Then I am glad some good came of it.” He lifted a satchel. “I am going home, Susanna. I am sure you will see us all back here, Father and Mother and I, but later this year. I need to cut my ties with Uncle Louis, and I need to help Father pack his atelier. If he truly wishes to come here, there is much to do before he can leave.”

She nodded. “I might not wait for your return to marry.”

He accepted that with a nod. “Do not expect Mother to be happy with that. But I understand. Your betrothed is a better protector than Father or I have ever been.” Lucas leaned forward and kissed her on both cheeks.

“Going?” Parker was suddenly beside her. She had wondered what was taking him so long but now she wondered how long he had been listening.

“You will be pleased to know the answer is yes.” Lucas bowed formally. “My apologies, sir. I have not been the best of guests.”

“No.” Parker shifted, as if relenting. “I spoke with de Praet’s spies. They were acting of their own accord, not under his orders. Your life should not be in danger.”

“My thanks for that,” Lucas said. “Did you ever find Heyman?”

Parker shook his head. “He is under suspicion of conspiring to kill the King’s son, so if I were you, I would not associate with him any more. And I am convinced he is the one who struck you on the head.”

Lucas gave a slow nod. “I would like to think not, but I will be wary of him. He may have fled back to Ghent.” He put out an arm and hugged Susanna awkwardly. “Farewell.” Then, with a look that was pure Lucas, he swung himself up next to the cartsman. “Don’t get too comfortable in my job.”

As she stood looking after him, disappearing down the lane with his back to her, she realized her hands were tight-clenched fists.

* * *

The knock was cautious. Respectful.

Parker glanced at Susanna and she looked towards the door in dismay. They had gone to Maggie’s before going to bed last night, checking on Kilburne and Will, and it had been well after the bells of St. Michael’s had rung matins before they had gone to sleep.

Will was already sitting up, complaining about being bed-bound, whereas Kilburne was still pale and weak. But he would recover, Maggie had told them.

They had slept late, and neither felt inclined to do much more than sit and contemplate their good fortune. Parker knew Susanna wanted to get back to painting Fitzroy’s portrait, but he wanted just half an hour longer of peace in her company.

The knock came again.

Parker pulled himself out of his chair and went through to the hall. He swung open the door, not sure who he expected. It certainly wasn’t Jehan de la Sauch. He stepped back to allow the diplomat in.

“Master Parker.” De la Sauch extended his leg and made a bow. “I have come to enquire after Mistress Horenbout. Since your visit I have thought of little else but her imprisonment and could stand it no longer. I need to know if she fares well.”

“She was pardoned last night. But come in and see for yourself.” Parker showed him into the study, where Susanna stood next to her chair.

“Mistress Horenbout?” De la Sauch bowed deeply. “Your father painted my family—”

“I remember the picture. He caught your likeness well, sir. I recall him working on the piece.” Susanna curtsied. “Parker told me you made efforts on my behalf to have Uncle Louis declare my innocence to King Henry. I thank you.”

“Any letters from de Praet have not even been received yet, so any help I gave was useless, but I am pleased beyond words to see you have managed to untangle this knot on your own.”

“It is my good fortune to be in good standing with the King.”

De la Sauch looked away at that, as if embarrassed. Parker gestured to a chair. “Can we offer you refreshment?”

“No, no. I will not stop long. I wished only to know if Mistress Horenbout was still a prisoner. I shall write again to de Praet. Let him know the change in circumstance.”

“You can tell him that Heyman has fled, and so has Jules, the Frenchman he turned. Renard, the other Frenchman, is dead by the hand of the French Crown, and the Emperor’s lack of pay to those in his service caused some of them to take on the job of attempting to murder the King’s son.” Parker did not hide the coldness in his voice, and de la Sauch took a step back.

“You know far more of my business than I do, sir. More than I truly wish to know.” He fingered the gold buttons of his doublet. “But there is one thing I might tell you, in exchange for the information you have given me.”

Parker waited.

“I have the Emperor’s envoy staying at my house. He is freshly arrived from Spain, and carries correspondence for your King.”

Parker stood straighter, and saw Susanna was leaning forward a little, her hand on the back of her chair.

“He passed through the court of Margaret of Austria on his way, and she ordered him to suppress one missive, which the Emperor had wished him to convey to King Henry.”

“What missive is that?” Susanna gripped the top of the chair.

“One in which the Emperor tells the King he is desperate for money, and if Henry will not relinquish Princess Mary’s dowry to him now, and send her to be married and live in his court, he will have no choice but to renege on the betrothal and marry Isabella of Portugal.”

“That is precisely what de Praet’s men were trying to prevent me telling the King,” Susanna whispered.

“No doubt the Emperor wished to convey the information himself, through an official missive.” De la Sauch shrugged. “But whatever the reason, Margaret has managed to get her way. She took the missive away from the envoy, so he cannot give it to King Henry, in any event. She wants more time, so between her and Katherine, they can persuade Charles that he must still marry his English princess.”

“Do you think they will succeed?” Parker watched de la Sauch carefully.

The Lowlander shook his head. “There is no money in the Emperor’s coffers, and Isabella of Portugal comes with a million pounds. Henry would be mad to relinquish Mary’s dowry so soon before she can marry Charles, and Charles knows it. He will take the bride who is of age to marry him, and comes with cold, hard cash over the child who comes only with promises. A child who could die before she is old enough to marry him, anyway.”

“I think you are right.” Parker knew he was. No matter how much time Margaret had bought with her scheming, she would not sway her nephew from the only course a cash-strapped leader could take.

De la Sauch drew himself up, his arms stiff and formal at his sides. “I must be away. I have taken enough of your time. But I would like to have you to dinner at my residence, both of you. I miss talking of art and home, some days, as I’m sure you do, too.” He bowed to Susanna.

“I would like that.” Susanna smiled at him and then stepped forward, and kissed him on both cheeks.

Parker showed him out and watched him walk down the path to the lane, and thought de la Sauch’s walk was a touch too light to be that of a man weighed down by a job he did not want.

He also thought of what Jules had said in the alley at the end. How he’d approached de la Sauch for funds, and been denied, although de la Sauch had denied any knowledge of the turned French spies.

If Charles’s ambassador wanted Henry to know that the Emperor was not trying to hide his motives, that it was Henry’s own wife and the Emperor’s aunt whose hand was at play, preventing information getting through, he had picked the perfect courtier to confess his secrets to.

The taste of being used lay on Parker’s tongue. Bitter and cold, unpleasant as a slug.

When he returned to the room, Susanna was staring out the window, as grim and implacable as the carving on a ship’s prow. “Princess Mary will be cast aside.”

“I think that is a good possibility.”

“It isn’t fair.”

Parker shook his head. “No. But I am willing to give the Queen as much time as she can to change Charles’s mind. Even if it seems an impossibility.”

Susanna nodded. “Yes. Of course we will.”

Parker looked back at the door. “De la Sauch hopes we will tell Henry that Margaret is trying to suppress the information about him considering marriage to Isabella.”

Susanna frowned. “Why would we?”

“Because we are loyal to the King.”

Susanna stepped toward him, slipped her arms around his waist and brought him close. “Every involvement I have with Henry’s court makes my loyalties clearer.”

“And where do they lie?” He let his lips brush the top of her head.

“Only to you.” She lifted her face to his. “Only, my love, to you.”