It had rained again for most of the night and the dreams had come and gone. He dragged himself out of bed, pulled on a shirt and went down to the study without bothering to wash or dress properly.
He was trying without success to light a fire when he heard the door open. Surely Katherine had not changed her mind. He left the fire and went to greet her. ‘Good morning, doctor,’ said the little figure, smiling her lop-sided smile and putting the key back in her basket. ‘I thought to come straight away. Have you taken breakfast?’
‘Joan. You have been released. When was it?’ He smiled in delight and only just stopped himself from embracing the girl.
‘Yesterday evening, doctor. The warden came to the cell and told me to go, so I did. Luckily the key to your door was still at my mother’s house.’
‘Did the warden give any reason for your release?’
‘No, sir. He just told me to leave. I’ve brought honey and oats for your porridge. How have you been managing?’
‘Very poorly. It is a mighty relief to see you free, Joan, for both our sakes.’
‘Mistress Allington will have taken care of you.’
‘Mistress Allington has been much occupied. I have seen little of her.’
‘Oh. I am sorry to hear that, doctor. Now, you go to your chamber and I will prepare your breakfast and set a fire. It’s cold out after the rain.’
He could have cheered. Joan back and with a brisk confidence that he had not seen before. Where had it come from? Surely not Newgate. Perhaps she was a witch. He laughed. Knoyll and Pyke had been frightened off after all. For all their bragga-docio, they had taken fright and run like the craven scroyles they were.
He was still grinning when he went down to the kitchen. ‘I’ve made extra, doctor,’ said Joan, spooning porridge into a bowl. ‘You sit down and I will attend to the fire.’
He emptied the bowl and helped himself to another. He called out to her. ‘You can move those shirts, now, Joan. I expect they could do with a wash.’
Joan poked her head around the door. ‘They could, doctor, unless you are minded to buy new ones.’
‘If you wash them, do you know anyone who would like them?’
‘I do, doctor. There’s many would be grateful.’
‘In that case, take them and wash them and find them new homes. I shall visit the shirt-maker in Leadenhall.’
‘As you wish, doctor. Be sure to buy good linen shirts, won’t you? They do better than wool.’
He was in the study when Joan came to say goodbye. ‘Do you need money for food?’ he asked her.
‘Two shillings will be sufficient.’
‘Are you sure? The market prices have risen.’
‘I know, doctor, but the traders will be pleased to see me. I can manage on two shillings.’
He handed her the coins. ‘Tomorrow, Joan?’ he asked.
‘Tomorrow, doctor.’ For the first time, Joan looked unsure of herself. ‘And I thank you for what you and Mistress Allington have done for me.’
‘You are well and free, Joan. That is thanks enough.’
Wetherby arrived at noon. He looked about the study and shook his head. ‘You’ve found a new housekeeper, Christopher, unless I am mistaken. No dust, a good fire, and where are your old shirts?’
‘Joan Willys has been released from Newgate. I shall never wear dirty shirts or go hungry again.’
Wetherby threw up his hands. ‘That is excellent news. How did it happen?’
‘It seems that the ungodly Clennet Pyke and Gilbert Knoyll took fright and saw the error of their ways.’
‘Excellent. I wonder what caused them to change their minds?’ There was something in Wetherby’s tone that made Christopher look up. A tiny smile played around his mouth and eyes. ‘Roland, did you have anything to do with it?’
‘I? Good God, no. It must have been your silver tongue and lawyer’s demeanour. Now let us to the Brown Bear. I am hungry.’
The inn was quiet. They found a table in a corner and ordered food and ale. ‘I tried to make an appointment for us with Leicester but could not. It seems he was much occupied with other matters. And I gather we had an unusual visitor at Whitehall,’ said Wetherby while they waited. ‘John Young, Master of your old college. Why would he come to the palace, do you suppose?’
‘I really could not say. Perhaps Her Majesty had asked to see him.’
‘I think not. He was seen entering the Earl of Leicester’s apartments.’
‘Was he?’
‘He was, Christopher, and so were you.’
‘In the name of God, is nothing secret in that place?’
‘Very little. Are you going to tell me or not?’
‘Tell you what?’
‘Christopher, dissembling does you no credit and you are not good at it. Kindly tell me why the Master of Pembroke Hall and the noble Earl of Leicester summoned you to Whitehall.’
He knew Roland Wetherby. Like Katherine Allington, he would not let go of the bone until he had picked every last shred of meat from it. ‘Oh, very well, Roland, but if you breathe a word I will do to you what Gerard Fossett did to John Pryse.’
‘No you will not. Now tell me.’ A girl brought their pie and two beakers of ale. Christopher waited until she had gone before he started.
‘A difficult decision for you, my friend,’ said Wetherby when he had finished. ‘Disputation and dinner with the fellows or felons and traitors for the earl. I know which I would choose.’
‘I know which you would choose, too. It is what I should choose that I do not know.’
‘Have you told Katherine? What does she say?’
‘I have not told her, nor intend to. Katherine has decided to return to Cambridge alone.’
‘Ah. Then I shall inquire no more. Sit by your fire and think. I daresay the answer will come to you. Be sure to tell me, however, if you feel in need of wise counsel.’
They parted outside the inn. At Ludgate Hill, Christopher let himself in, took off his coat and went into the study. The fire was fading. He crouched down to put more wood on it. He did not see the blow that felled him from behind.