The fallout from the fire at Holbrooke & Sons combined with the revelations about Gilbert Barton’s murders kept the gossips of London well-sated, but I still felt unsatisfied. Colin and I had yet to unravel the meaning behind the scavenger hunt upon which Queen Victoria had started him. I had continued to postulate theories, none of which stood up to even the slightest scrutiny, and was beginning to wonder if this particular puzzle would never be solved. We were dissecting them all again, were sitting in the library, Colin with his whisky and I with my port.
“A lance, a stone, a chalice, and a sword,” he said. “It does put me to mind of the quest for the Holy Grail. The grail being the chalice, of course.”
“And there was the sword in a stone. But the lance?” I asked.
“A bleeding lance appears over the grail table in the Vulgate cycle, and later, when Galahad dies, his friends see his soul lifted into heaven, along with the grail and a lance.”
“Then the sword must represent King Arthur’s Excalibur,” I said.
“Not necessarily,” my husband replied. “There are many other swords in the various versions of the grail quest. Galahad, too, removes a sword from a stone, and finds another on a ship. One that only he can grip properly. Then there’s the sword broken into three pieces that he fixes—”
I felt a glimmer of excitement building in me. Why had I not thought of it before? “We are on the wrong track entirely,” I said. “Distracted by legend. Every message pertains to Henry V. And, if you recall, there is a sword—”
“—hanging among his funeral achievements in Westminster Abbey,” Colin finished for me. “Of course. How could I have been so bloody stupid?”
“You might have been a bit distracted, what with trying to solve four murders while keeping the king safe.”
He pulled me from my chair and within moments we were en route to the Abbey, where, standing in front of Henry V’s tomb, we saw a man, well past his prime, a remarkable gold brooch pinned to his overcoat.
“I knew you would find me at last, Hargreaves,” he said, shaking my husband’s hand. “You came in such a tear I feared I would not get here before you, but I had less distance to travel. My man rang the moment you left your house.”
I wondered if Davis was his man, but, no, that couldn’t be. Could it?
“I’m afraid I don’t understand your meaning, sir,” Colin said.
“You don’t need to.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is not important. May we speak privately?”
“I keep no secrets from my wife.”
The man lifted a monocle to his eye and examined me from head to toe. “Yes. She has proven useful. She followed the first clue, didn’t she?”
“I found the note in the Tower,” I said.
“Her Majesty never did quite approve of you, but even she had to admit your occasional usefulness.” He handed my husband an envelope, again bearing the Hargreaves coat of arms. Colin opened it and read aloud:
My hope does not wish for even one man more. Victory is not seen to be given on the basis of numbers. God is all-powerful. My cause is put into His hands. Here he pressed us down with disease. Being merciful, He will not let us be killed by these enemies. Let pious prayers be offered to Him.
“Another chronicle?” I asked.
Colin nodded. “Holinshed again. The one that inspired Shakespeare’s famous speech.”
“You are a well-educated man, Hargreaves,” the man said, “but that is not why she chose you.”
“Chose me?”
“To protect the king. Ever since the death of Henry V, a man has stood as silent and secret guardian of the sovereign. The Hammer of the Gauls knew his infant son, Henry VI, would be in a precarious position and he asked a trusted knight to watch over the boy. When that man grew too old for the task, the king selected another, and passed on the responsibility. And so it has gone over the centuries. Queen Victoria required more of us than any other monarch—there were five, each before me aging out of the job. And now, it is my turn to notify my own successor. Her Majesty chose you, Hargreaves, to look after her son.”
Colin shook his head, disbelief on his face, his voice sharp. “If you believe the king is in need of protecting, why did you not ask me before his mother died?”
“Hargreaves, Hargreaves, there is no need to get upset. I was on the case in the interim. In centuries past, other protectors put their successors through a series of tests. In the Middle Ages, these took the form of tournaments. When the Tudors reigned, a series of physical challenges had to be met. There was a charming phase during the Enlightenment when philosophical puzzles were part of the initiation. There is no need for such things now, particularly when it comes to a man like you, who has proven his worth again and again. But over the past century we have adopted the practice of staging a series of clues, just like those that led you to me today. A scavenger hunt for the chosen, if you will.”
“What would you have done if he hadn’t decoded them?” I asked.
“I never doubted he would and I am always right about such things.” He handed Colin a battered leather-bound book. “In here, you will find suggestions and advice from each of your predecessors. Some are frightfully out of date, of course, but don’t skip over any of them. The medieval illuminations are unparalleled in their beauty. And you must also have this.” He removed the pin from his coat.
Colin took it gently in his palm. “I’ve never seen its equal.” It was solid gold, approximately two inches high, less than half that wide, and fashioned to look like a blazing beacon, with flames of rubies rising from its top.
“What is it?” I asked.
“A medieval livery badge,” Colin said. “One of Henry V’s, is it not? The fire beacon.”
“Quite right,” the man said. “That king himself presented it, on his deathbed, to a knight he thought strong and honorable enough to protect his young son, who was less than a year old when he inherited the throne. You need not wear it all the time—to do so would be unfortunately conspicuous these days—but on certain occasions, you will find it useful.”
“What if I refuse?”
“My dear man, you will not. I know your sense of duty too well. When King Edward feels it is time, he will come to you and tell you who he chooses to take care of his heir, and you will do as I have done. Unless, of course, you decide staging a tournament would be more appropriate.” His lips curled. “You have the book. Beyond that, we do not give each other instructions. We would not be chosen if we required direction.” That said, he tipped his hat, smiled brightly at me, and disappeared into the shadows of the abbey.
“I—” Colin stood, his mouth open, and examined the livery badge. “I don’t know what to say.”
“A modern version of the medieval quest.” I sighed. “This means you’re all but a knight in shining armor. Just when I think you couldn’t be more attractive, you go and prove me wrong.”
“I’ve done nothing of the sort.” He slipped the badge into the inside pocket of his coat. “Home, my dear. I’ve not the slightest idea what to make of all this.”
Back in Park Lane, he poured himself a whisky in the library and studied the book he’d been given until Davis knocked on the door. “Sir, most sorry to disturb, but His Majesty—”
“Don’t bother to announce me, my good man.” Bertie pushed past my butler. “See here, Hargreaves, I knew nothing about any of this. Blasted inconvenient for you to have been distracted by such a lot of nonsense.” He turned to me and looked me over, grinning. “Lady Emily, you are more fetching than ever.”
“Er, thank you, Your Majesty,” I said, bobbing a curtsy.
“I’m not some child and am in need of no special protection, but I will say I’d far prefer to have you overseeing my safety than that nitwit Gale. Tedious man, always on about something or the other. You’ll do it for me, won’t you, old chap?”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Colin said. “It will be an honor.”
An honor he could not possibly have wanted. The cat screeched and the door to the library flew open. Henry dashed through it, Richard and Thomas not far behind.
“Is it true, Papa? Is the king really here?” Henry’s face was bright red.
“I certainly am, my good lad,” Bertie said. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
I had to admit that when Bertie was charming, there were few people more pleasant, and he was on his best behavior as he graciously accepted neat bows from each of my sons and then shook their hands.
“If you’re the king, why aren’t you wearing a crown?” Henry asked.
“They’re frightfully heavy, if you must know,” the king replied.
“If I were king, I wouldn’t care how heavy it was.” Henry crossed his arms with a defiant scowl. “I’d wear my crown all the time.”
“If you’re a good boy and do everything your mama asks of you, I shall take you to the Tower and let you try it on and see for yourself.”
Henry’s eyes widened and he murmured a reply I could hardly hear. Bertie looked rather pleased.
“Where’d you get that, Papa?” Tom asked, pointing to the golden fire beacon, which Colin had laid on his desk. “It’s Sir William’s badge, isn’t it?”
“Sir William’s?” I asked.
“Well, of course, it is,” Richard said. “Anyone could see that. It’s a perfect match to the one on the effigy.”
“Whose effigy?” I asked.
“Sir William Hargrave’s, naturally,” Tom said and turned to his other brother. “It’s my turn to be him next time we play Agincourt, and Richard will be the king, so don’t try anything underhanded, Henry.”
“I’m named for the king in question,” my recalcitrant son said. “It’s only fair that I get to be him whenever I want.”
“Sir William Hargrave?” I looked from my husband to my sons. “Is he—”
“The ancestor to whom Henry V, as recognition for valiant service at Agincourt, gave the land we now call Anglemore Park,” Colin said. “According to the book our mysterious friend gave me, he was the first to receive the fire beacon in exchange for royal service.”
“Well, then, it’s all in the family,” Bertie said. “Can’t argue with that, can we? Must be off. Much to do. Again, dashed sorry you weren’t enlightened about all this sooner. My mother preferred things that way. You’ll find I’m quite different.”
The boys clamored to follow him out, gasping when they saw the motorcar parked in front of our house.
“Papa,” Henry said. “If the king has one, surely, we can, too?”
I had never expected the unruliest of my boys to become a worthy ally.