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Despite Tio Aloisio’s warning, Senhor Carvalho didn’t seem interested in contacting Cecília or her uncle once news of the arrests began to circulate throughout court. Nor did he call them when the two men arrested were summarily tried and hanged before the populace was even alerted that there had been an attempt on the king’s life. After waiting another day to see if anything happened, Cecília allowed herself to relax at least enough to plaster her courtier smile back in place and appear suitably normal in front of others.
It was already a week into September, but the weather was immeasurably pleasant. The mess of people in the gardens said the court agreed. Cecília stayed out of any large groups, aiming for the far end of the manicured hedges. She hoped fewer people would be in the winding dead ends if they were hoping to make the most of the sun and warm breeze. After finding a few quiet conversations and one less-than-proper liaison, Cecília heard Graça’s and Luís’s familiar voices.
“But have you heard who’s been implicated?” Graça said in an excited whisper. “The Duke of Aveiro, the Távoras—”
“People are looking for scandal where there is none.” Luís sounded much less concerned with being overheard. “Pedro Teixeria has insulted the duke numerous times, and anyone who’s met Aveiro knows the man has a temper. I’m more inclined to believe Mr. Hays’s theory.”
“Since when have you been friends with Mr. Hays?” Graça sounded suitably skeptical of Luís’s connection to the British envoy.
“I’ve barely spoken to the man, but he’s been talking the most sense in the midst of all this. The king wasn’t in the royal carriage. It seems entirely likely that Aveiro didn’t even know the king was there when he sent those men after Teixeria. An attempted murder, certainly, but regicide? They were two men shooting at a random carriage.”
“Then why would the assassins confess to treason?”
“A man will confess to just about anything when put to the screws long enough. And look at who was in charge of the questioning.”
“Are you implicating Senhor Carvalho in something?”
It seemed a good moment to step in. Cecília turned around the last hedge with her carefully manufactured smile. “I thought I heard you two.”
“Cecília.” Luís stood from the little wooden bench placed amongst the hedges.
A flicker of annoyance moved over Graça’s face before she looked at Cecília and smiled. “Are you feeling better?”
“Much.” Cecília nodded, sticking to the story Tio Aloisio had been telling to excuse her absence. “Took cold is all, I think.”
“I said you were going to worry yourself ill.” Luís took a few steps closer to her.
“Well, I’m entirely better now. No harm done.” She looked back at Graça, searching the woman’s face for any sign of what she imagined her own looked like when trying to find information. “What have I missed?”
“People trying to make things far more interesting than they likely are.” Luís shook his head.
“You seem entirely too quick to dismiss things.” Graça sent him a displeased look from her spot on the bench before returning to address Cecília. She either was not one of Senhor Carvalho’s spies, or she was at least as good as Cecília at hiding her true thoughts. “Before they were hanged, the two men—the assassins—confessed to an entire plot against the king’s life. They were paid to assassinate him in order for the Duke of Aveiro to stage a coup d’état. It supposedly goes all the way to Leonor Távora.”
“Which one?” Cecília asked.
“The eldest. The marchioness. And if she is involved, one has to imagine the entire Távora family—”
“Cecília’s just gotten well,” Luís cut in. “The last thing she needs is to hear scandal and conspiracies.”
“I’m fine, Luís. Really.” Cecília touched his arm. “I’m surprised my uncle didn’t tell me any of this. If there’s been a plot—”
“I truly doubt there has been,” Luís said.
“Then why has the first minister opened an inquiry?” Graça asked pointedly.
“He is doing his due diligence to protect His Highness,” Luís returned. “But an inquiry doesn’t mean guilt. I would be hard-pressed to believe Senhora Távora—”
“I think it’s too nice a day for all this,” Cecília broke in. Whether or not Graça did report to Senhor Carvalho, they were certainly treading too close to too many dangerous topics. Until she knew more about what was happening, the less Luís said, the better.
“Precisely.” Luís held Graça’s eyes for a moment before turning to Cecília. “You should be sitting.”
“I’ve been in bed for two days straight,” Cecília said.
“I should be going, anyway.” Graça stood. She caught Cecília’s hands and kissed both cheeks. “I’m glad you’re doing better. We all need to be careful with our health, with the weather changing.” Graça pulled back and sent Cecília a look, holding it long enough to suggest a deeper meaning to her words.
Cecília had the sinking sensation that she knew what Graça meant far too well. Her smile stayed carefully in place. “We certainly do.”
Graça disappeared back out into the garden, and Luís shepherded Cecília toward the once-again-empty bench.
“You really don’t have to fret over me, Luís.” Cecília took a seat all the same. “I promise.”
“I wanted to come and check on you.” He sat next to her. “But after the last time I saw your uncle... I hope I didn’t get you into trouble.”
“He was worried about me allowing you too many liberties.”
He frowned. “Does—”
“I told him nothing has happened,” Cecília said to cut the conversation off as quickly as she could.
Voices moved close enough to hear, and Cecília twisted toward them, listening. A group of women continued to chatter as they passed, nattering on about the supposed plot on the king’s life, though they didn’t stay in place long enough for Cecília to hear anything new.
“They aren’t coming this way.” Luís took her hand in his.
Cecília released a slow breath. “Do you ever get tired of hiding, Luís?”
He hesitated. “You know, if I could, I’d—”
“I mean...” Cecília certainly wasn’t trying to bring up the marriage conversation again—she didn’t have the energy for that—but she was straying perilously close to saying something she would regret. Doing her best to force a smile, she turned back to Luís. “This plot Graça was talking about—”
Luís groaned. “There’s no plot.”
“Whatever it is.” Cecília held his eyes. “Promise me you’ll stay out of it.”
“Trust me. This inquiry will blow over. There’s nothing for it to find. In a week or so—”
“After Senhor Mendonça—”
“This is nothing like that. The retribution was...” He censored whatever he thought of the punishments meted out two years before. “But there was a plot. I’m sorry, but no one will ever convince me that Senhora Távora attempted regicide. She’s a forceful woman, but she wouldn’t attempt a coup d’état, and certainly not one to replace Dom José with the Duke of Aveiro of all people.”
“Just promise me,” Cecília said. “Nothing good is going to come from this.”
“You’re going to make yourself ill again.” He touched her cheek.
“Please. Promise.”
Luís caught her chin and kissed her. After a lingering moment, he pulled back to speak. “I promise. Now stop worrying. This isn’t two years ago.”
No. She closed her eyes, gritting her teeth. It’s likely much worse.
***
CECÍLIA PUSHED A LOOSE strand of hair behind her ear and felt the warmth radiating from her skin. She should have worn a hat with a brim outside. As nice as the sun had been in the garden, she had certainly gotten some color from the hour she had spent with Luís. She opened the door to her apartment and froze.
Senhor Carvalho looked up from the book he was holding. “Ah, Senhorita Durante. There you are.”
She stepped through, scanning the room for her uncle, the fact that the minister was alone in their antechamber too odd for her to relax. “You were waiting for me?”
“Your uncle just left.” He seemed to read Cecília’s thoughts, as he had the uncanny ability to do. He shut the book and lifted it for her to see. “Have you read this?”
Cecília closed the door behind her and looked at the title pressed into the cover before shaking her head. “I can’t read English.”
“Neither can I, actually.” He set it back on the shelf. “Spent seven years in London and never learned a word, if you can believe it. Dealt entirely in diplomatic French. I got by surprisingly well, if I do say so myself.”
Cecília nodded, not certain what else she could say.
“Please, sit.” Senhor Carvalho motioned at the couch as if she were in his rooms and not the other way around.
She silently moved across the space and settled herself on the edge of the cushion.
He studied her. “You look nervous.”
“Strained, maybe.” She gave a smile, though she was certain the first minister would see through it. Whether or not the man could truly read minds, he certainly knew courtiers well enough to know a false smile when he saw one. “It’s been a long week.”
“Are you afraid of something?”
“I just don’t like not knowing what’s happening.”
“Hard for you to know what’s happening when you don’t leave your room for two days.” As kindly concerned as the words were said, Cecília could feel the bite to them.
“I...” wasn’t feeling well, Cecília started to lie before realizing how pointless that would have been. Her uncle would have told him how she had been hiding away, not fully able to return to spying when they had come so close to being on the losing side after two years in power. She changed topics, having to believe the first minister wouldn’t take her loss of faith well. “I was out in the garden today. Everyone’s talking about how the men you hanged implicated the Távora family in trying to kill His Highness?”
“More than just the Távoras.” Senhor Carvalho caught his hands behind his back. “It’s no secret that many of the grandees have been displeased with His Highness’s decisions on some key issues.”
“To the point of assassination?”
“So it seems,” Senhor Carvalho said. “Have you heard anything worrying? Something that maybe didn’t seem important before Sunday but does now?”
Cecília wet her lips, going through a mess of conversations she had listened to in her mind. “Nothing that jumps out. I can try to think of things.”
“See that you do.” Senhor Carvalho pinned her with his eyes. “We might need those in the next couple of months.”
“Months?” She frowned.
“The truth isn’t always an easy thing to uncover. At the moment, I’m simply making certain that everyone is as dedicated to the effort as they should be.”
Cecília’s insides squirmed at the look he was giving her, but she fought to keep her face placid. “Of course.”
“I’ve come to trust you quite a bit these past years, Cecília,” he said. “I hope you feel the same about me.”
She nodded. “I do, senhor.”
“I’ll be in touch.” He moved to the door. “Just keep listening. You never know what you’ll hear.”
He didn’t seem to expect a reply, so Cecília didn’t give one. Silence certainly was going to be safer for the foreseeable future.
“Oh.” He paused in the doorway as if he had just remembered something. “Your brother will be leaving court tomorrow, if you would like to send him off.”
Cecília blinked, able to otherwise hide her surprise. “He hadn’t said.”
“Oh yes,” Senhor Carvalho said. “He has taken up a mission to Brazil.”
“Brazil?” Her voice raised to a near squeak as her surprise overwhelmed her carefully manufactured calm.
“I’m sure everyone there will be thrilled to have such a devoted shepherd to see to their souls.”
Cecília’s mouth opened as she tried to form words. Then she shut it and gathered herself. As offhand as the minister had said it, she had to assume Francisco hadn’t been the one to decide to leave. If it hadn’t been a banishment by another name, she had to imagine it would have been a much different discussion about how she needed to find out what Francisco was planning.
Once again, court was being cleared of anyone Senhor Carvalho considered a threat, and no good could come from ending up on his list. With her thoughts in some kind of order, Cecília started again, much more calmly. “I’m certain they will. Thank you for telling me, senhor.”
Senhor Carvalho tipped his hat and pulled the door shut behind him, leaving Cecília alone to roil in her own thoughts. Where are we all going to end up this time?