Christmas Day, Wednesday, December 25
Awdrey had been up late the previous evening decorating the hall. The tops of the walls were all woven with strands of ivy and mistletoe, which she had bought from a street vendor the day before. Each door was arched with sprigs of holly and juniper. In the morning the girls had been delighted with the scene; they quickly learned that the holly was sharp, so had taken to walking through the doors very slowly and carefully so as to avoid the prickles. They had seen the table laid with a pristine white cloth and laden with a ham, marchpanes, and pewter plates, ready for the feast, and they had complained bitterly when they realized their father was not going to allow them to breakfast at all, let alone on this feast, before taking them to church. But they had both submitted. Mildred had stomped her feet and sulked for a minute before her sister told her that there were mince pies and capon in the kitchen, as well as beef and mustard. Annie had laughed at the way the younger girl’s eyes had opened wide.
Thomas accompanied them to church and then bade them a merry feast at the church gate, as he had promised to dine with his nephew’s family. Only Joan was left in the house, and this made Clarenceux anxious. He had visions of the place being overrun while he was out, and everything being destroyed in a frantic attempt to find the document. He was even more concerned when he noticed the white-haired gentleman there too, in the same pew as before. This time the man was more suitably attired, in a black doublet and matching hosen. Only once did Clarenceux catch his eye. He did not attempt to speak to him, but he did ask several parishioners if they knew the man. None did.
As the children ran around, excited by the huge spread of food that was being prepared for them by their mother and Joan, Clarenceux looked out the hall window. In his hurry to get to church with the family, and to guard against attack, he had failed to note who was watching the house. He cursed himself, clenching his fist against his mistake.
While Awdrey and Joan fetched the food up from the kitchen, he stole up the stairs to his study and picked up his best sword from where it rested on the top of a book press. He returned to the hall and then went down to the front door, where he placed the sword on a hook behind his cloak, covering it there. He walked along the ground-floor passage, past the buttery, to the kitchen at the back of the house. Awdrey had her hands full with a platter of roast beef, and Joan was behind her carrying a tray of sauces.
“I feel I should be playing my part today, in the old style,” he said as they passed him.
“In the old style?” asked Awdrey.
“The Lord of Misrule. The custom is for the servants to sit in the best place and the lord to serve them, and for the men to play the women’s roles.”
“You are behaving very strangely, William. Is there anything you need to tell me?”
“No, I just thought it would be an entertaining gesture. Yesterday you told me that I ought to help more.”
Joan smiled. “I think Mr. Harley is a most considerate employer. If he wishes to wait on me at table, I will not protest.”
Clarenceux performed a mock bow and took the tray from her, following the women up the stairs to the hall. There Awdrey and Joan settled themselves while he fetched the rest of the dishes and plates, taking advantage of his time alone downstairs to ensure that both front and back doors were bolted. He took up flasks of wine from the buttery and gave some to Joan as well as Awdrey—which made Joan laugh nervously, as she was not used to wine. He himself did not drink. Even when carving the roast beef he did not relax but kept his attention on the sounds of the house beyond the hall, listening in case, and every so often walking around the window end of the table so he could glance out at the house opposite.
Nothing happened. No one broke into the house. No one called.
“What is the matter with you?” asked Awdrey when they had a quiet moment together in the kitchen after the meal.
“I am truly worried.”
“I can tell. Everyone can tell. I too am worried—about you. Whatever is in your mind is taking you over. But why now? What is it?”
Clarenceux shook his head.
“Come, William, you are worrying me now. I need to know what it is. Share your troubles.” She stepped closer to him and put a hand on his arm. “You have got to tell me, please, for my peace of mind. I can feel that you’re like iron. If I hit you across the shoulders with a crowbar now, it would bend. Please, William, confide in me.”
He took a deep breath. “Across the street is a house full of men who have us under surveillance. They have been watching us for months. Three weeks and six days ago, the regular watch was increased to two guards per shift. Now it has increased to three, with a well-dressed captain attending in person. In addition we are being watched in church—you might have noticed the white-haired gentleman…”
Awdrey looked at him. “But what makes you think such people are our enemies? Might they not be Sir William’s men watching out for us? Have you spoken to any of these men?”
“One, who called himself Tom Green. He was not friendly.”
“This Tom Green might just be curt in his manners. His captain might be more affable. But…what am I trying to say?” She looked at him with pleading eyes. “I know how seriously you would take any threat against us, and I understand how diligently you work to safeguard us, but can you not relax for today? It is Christmas.”
“I know, I know. I wish I could be other than this. But I cannot be, for I must be alert to the dangers. Perhaps it seems to you that I am being overcautious, but it is the friendly stranger who will threaten us. We will not be given any warning.”
A clear, deliberate knocking rang out on the front door. Four loud blows, in rapid succession.
“Look to the children,” said Clarenceux. “I will answer.”
He watched Awdrey turn and run up the stairs. Then, slowly, he walked along the passage to the front door. Taking his sword, he held it behind his back. Thy will be done. He seized the top bolt and shot it open, turned the key in the main lock, and finally undid the lower bolt.
A man stood in the daylight. Clarenceux recognized his livery as that of Sir William Cecil’s household.
“Sir William bids you heartily a good Christmas and hopes that the feast finds you well. He asks you, Mr. Clarenceux, if it pleases you, to wait on him on the morrow at his house, at three of the bell. He asks me to add, for the avoidance of doubt, that this invitation is for you alone. May I assure him that you accept his invitation?”
Clarenceux mumbled his acceptance with some relief and closed the door, noting that the man on duty in the house opposite was watching them from the first-floor window. Only after he closed his front door did he start to think. I did not recognize that man. Is this a ruse to separate me from my wife and family? Is it to kidnap me or to make sure the house is undefended? He walked up the front stairs slowly to the hall, reflecting on the dangers that lay all about them, and the equally real responsibilities.
“Who was it?” asked Awdrey from the table.
Clarenceux looked at her and the children and Joan, sitting together. All of them were staring at him. This was no Christmas jollity. The weight on his shoulders was dragging down Awdrey too, and the children and Joan could not help but sense something was wrong.
“It was a message from Sir William—he wants me to see him alone, tomorrow.”
“On St. Stephen’s Day?” asked Awdrey. “He should have asked us all. Will you go?”
Clarenceux nodded. “I can hardly refuse.”
Normally there would be nothing strange in Sir William wanting to talk to him alone about some matter of business on a weekday. Sir William was interested in heraldry and history, and he knew that Clarenceux had considerable experience not just in these subjects but in the practical matters of diplomatic missions overseas. But such business was not normally conducted on the day after Christmas. And St. Stephen’s Day was not a time to invite him to pore over a heraldic treatise or a historical manuscript. All this lingered in the air between them, going over the children’s heads and ignored by Joan who knew better than to involve herself in her master’s affairs.
When Awdrey did speak, she did so in a cheerful voice. “Let us lock all the doors and bring out the wine,” she said. “Let us answer the door to no visiting neighbors, not even for wassail and hippocras. Let’s pretend we have gone away together to some strange land and know no one and are spending the feast alone surrounded by…”
“By blackamoors!” shouted little Mildred excitedly. She had only recently seen some slaves from Guinea exhibited in a street near the cathedral.
“And Indians,” said Annie. “Or the Caribs, who are going to eat Mildred up for their Christmas feast!”
“And Joan,” said Mildred, smiling at the servant. Joan pretended to be horrified at the thought of being eaten by Caribs.
Clarenceux looked at Awdrey. Nervously she smiled at him. And at that moment he felt he had everything that was precious to him close at hand. Everything he feared losing was not yet lost.
“Well, the front and back doors are barred against Caribs, Indians, Moors, pirates, thieves, robbers, housebreakers, Lutherans, and Anabaptists. And Francis Walsingham’s men. We are safe. So let us drink to the protecting grace of Our Lord and Savior, and eat and be merry while we can.”