part0022

Morley had been right about where he thought the inn was – it was on the corner of Stonegate. Catherine’s description had told him it was near where the water sellers gathered and by the apple market, and that had narrowed it down. Arriving with three men, he soon found the landlord, Roddy, in the taproom, who seemed not at all surprised that yet another person had arrived asking about his recently departed tenant.

“Has he been found then?” Roddy asked when Morley mentioned Fitzwarren. Roddy hadn’t known him by that name but it had been shortly after he had left that Robert had found the inn, and it seemed Roddy had profited handsomely telling the tale of how he had been forced to find help for Richard and Jack to shift the bodies of Colan and his cousin from the upstairs rooms to an alley some way distant from the inn. It had not been long after that that the pair, along with a whore called Lizbet, had disappeared.

Roddy didn’t know where they had gone; the man’s rent had been paid up, and Roddy couldn’t say for sure when he had left. The first he had known for sure that he had gone was when Robert Fitzwarren had turned up and he had been forced to go upstairs in the inn to show him which rooms he had leased to Richard. The door had been locked, and despite Roddy’s protests, Robert had ordered one of his men to shoulder it open. Once the door opened on its splintered hinges, it became quite apparent that whoever had occupied the room had left.

Roddy could add little to the narrative Morley already had from Catherine, but he did now know that William’s other son Robert had also tried to track down this man he sought. He obviously bore him ill will, for as a result of his actions, warrants had been issued for both Richard’s and Jack’s arrest for the murder of Colan and his cousin. Morley shook his head; this man was leaving quite a trail of destruction behind him.

Catherine saw Morley approaching her again on the day Elizabeth was due back from Court. He seemed to move about the place unheeded and she could only assume that Travers was well aware of him and left him to his own devices. Whether he would retreat into the background when Elizabeth returned would remain to be seen; Catherine deeply hoped so.

“Can we both not be on good terms? What needs to be done will be done, and neither you, nor I, for that matter, can change this,” Morley said, coming to stand near where Catherine had been busy beating the dust from a selection of rugs .

Casting her eyes about her, she noted that what servants there had been in the vicinity had, as usual, melted away.

“It’s a skill,” he agreed, taking up a position upwind and away from the dust still emanating from the suspended rug.

Catherine continued to apply the beater to the tightly woven threads with renewed vigour. She wondered if he would tell her if he had found Richard; she was certainly not going to ask.

Morley seemed content to watch her, and arms folded, applied himself to the wall while she continued to exercise her temper on the rug. He spoke only when, smiling, he saw her arm beginning to tire. “I feel a lot safer now.”

Catherine gave the rug two more extra hard belts releasing another plume of fine grey dust.

Morley laughed. “I have a task for you. It seems your placement here at Durham Place pleases my Master and he seems willing to overlook how it is that you came to be here, if you would perform a small service for him.”

Catherine looked at him closely. “What small service?”

“A very simple one. It should not be beyond your wit.” Morley reached inside his doublet and produced some folded cream sheets. “I just wish you to place these in Mistress Kate’s rooms, perhaps not on open display, somewhere where they will be hidden from the lady.”

Morley held them out, but Catherine did not take them. “Good God, girl! They won’t bite. ”

Catherine took the sheets and opened them. Neatly printed in black ink were two leaflets detailing Knox’s latest writings.

“Dear God!” gasped Catherine, looking up from the sheets to meet Morley’s calm face.

“It will be an indication of your trustworthiness. You will be allowed to stay at Durham Place and in time my Master may look into the issue of your lost inheritance for you,” Morley said.

Catherine folded the sheets and pushed them into a pocket in her dress. “Do I have a choice?” she asked, knowing already what the answer would be.

Morley inclined his head. “Not really,” he said. Smiling to himself, he left her.

Catherine easily found somewhere to put them. Folding the sheets in half, she pressed them behind a painting hanging from the wall in Kate Ashley’s room. She’d no liking for Kate but still her conscience pained her. She had no doubt as to what the outcome for Mistress Ashley was likely to be if, or rather when, they were found.

It was three days before they were found. Catherine was working in the kitchens and only got to hear about what had happened second hand. There had been a great commotion. Travers had been instructed to search Mistress Kate’s rooms and there seditious writings had been found. Kate had been immediately arrested and within hours had been confined to Fleet Prison. Catherine felt her throat tighten, and it was hard to swallow. She consoled herself with the thought that at least Kate was not in the Tower.