Face Down Before Rebel Hooves Part 14

Chapter 28.

Boroughbridge November 21, 1569 Susanna awoke with the dawn, threw aside the covers, and braved the cold floor with her bare feet. Jennet was already up, as were Kelke and Lamplugh, which prevented any personal exchanges. This same situation had frustrated her for days.

Privacy had been a rare commodity of late. Only the earls and their countesses could achieve any semblance of it, and then only by ignoring the presence of their body servants. It was unusual, Susanna had discovered, for the n.o.bility to be truly apart from others at all. Since joining the Northumberland household, she'd overheard far more than she wanted of the activities pursued by the earl and his countess behind the curtains of their bed.

Immediately after the incident with the turnip soup, the two earls had separated, each taking a different route south, while a third contingent marched to Hartlepool to wait for the duke of Alba. With Lady Westmorland gone, Susanna could no longer hope to obtain Queen Mary's letters. Jennet wanted her to leave, but she continued to refuse. For one thing, they'd seen no sign of Nick or Toby. For another, the earls would eventually join forces again. When they did, she'd have another opportunity to end this madness.

"I believe I will take the air," she announced when she was dressed. "Will any of you join me?"

Joan groaned and pulled a pillow over her head. "Not when we can sleep late for a change!"

Concerned for his wife, who'd had an alarming pallor for the last two days and wore the tight-lipped look of one suffering from a throbbing head, Northumberland had consulted neither priest nor secretary but made his own decision, electing to remain here in Boroughbridge until Westmorland's forces arrived.

Susanna had applauded his stand. In summer, the hards.h.i.+ps of travel were bearable, although it was never easy to rise day after day at dawn and be given only time enough to gulp down a bit of bread and ale before an early start. The cold made everything worse. Even she, who had always enjoyed rude good health, save for the occasional bout of seasickness, felt tired and sore and out of sorts. They'd all have fallen sick if their breakneck pace had continued much longer.

Cecily smothered a yawn. "Best take someone with you," she murmured in a sleepy whisper. "A gentlewoman should not wander about alone when there is an army camped nearby."

"I will take my tiring maid." Susanna held her breath, but Cecily was no more inclined to rise and accompany her than Joan. Margaret Heron was on duty with the countess.

A few minutes later, Susanna and Jennet had left the inn and were breathing in crisp, cold air permeated with the smell of snow to come. They walked briskly through the small village, for Susanna had already selected a place where they would be able to talk undisturbed.

Boroughbridge lay on Watling Street, the main thoroughfare to London. It had one outstanding feature, four ma.s.sive stones, their tops formed into points by ancient workmen, which stood in three separate fields. This site was Susanna's destination. Superst.i.tion had kept anyone from camping near the megaliths.

"I looked for Master Baldwin ere now," Jennet said, surrept.i.tiously crossing herself as they approached the first of the giant monuments, "but even he would think twice about meeting us in a place like this."

Susanna disagreed. If Nick or Toby had been watching their movements, this was the exact location they'd look to. If they wanted to make their presence known, here was their chance. "I have seen no sign of a man from Sir Walter, either," she said aloud.

Fascinated, she stared up at the first stone giant. It was at least twenty feet high and perhaps eighteen in circ.u.mference. Roughly square in shape to about half of its height, it fluted to a point above that. From the amount of millstone grit littering the field and the uneven look of its top, the obelisk had once been taller.

"How hard can it be to show themselves?" Jennet grumbled.

"Getting out is easier than getting in and even that would have been difficult." The countess of Northumberland's ladies moved as a unit, almost always in her company and constantly in each other's pockets. The earl had made it pa.s.sing difficult for anyone to come near his wife and that had meant no one could reach her attendants, either.

"I do not like this place." Jennet s.h.i.+vered and cast a nervous glance over one shoulder.

"It is very old, I think." Susanna regarded the next two monuments, which stood within six feet of each other a bowshot away from the first. One was bigger than the other. A fourth pillar, the largest of them all, rose up out of a third field a stone's throw from the second.

"I've learned nothing new," Jennet said. "Have you?"

The last tidbit she'd unearthed, about the cook's habit of making turnip soup every Wednesday, had provided Susanna with food for thought but had not narrowed the field of suspects. Nor was she yet convinced the incident had been intended to kill her. Nothing untoward had happened since.

"When last I spoke to the earl of Northumberland-" she'd given him an infusion of cowslip juice for his wife, cautioning him to administer it drop by drop into the nostrils, not have her drink it "-I said I was grateful to him, that he had been most kind to me in spite of what he must have been told about Sir Walter's activities. I do not believe he understood what I meant. The more I see of Simple Tom, the less likely it seems to me that he could have ordered Eleanor's death."

Susanna leaned in close to examine the deeply seamed and moss-covered surface of the standing stone. She saw no inscriptions and wondered if there had once been some. Weather, she knew, could wear words away. She supposed the Romans had left these monuments behind, as they'd left the roads, but she doubted anyone would ever unravel the mystery of their origin. She was beginning to wonder if they'd have any greater success solving more recent puzzles.

"Come and sit, Jennet." Susanna settled herself on a large rock beneath the standing stone.

Reluctantly, Jennet perched on a second rock, but not before she looked over her shoulder once more.

"We are in the middle of a field, out of earshot. This monolith hides us from the village and no one can approach us in the other direction without being seen." Susanna waited until Jennet met her eyes. "And there are no ghosts."

They spent the next half hour reviewing everything they knew, but came to no new conclusions. Finally, too chilled to sit still any longer, Susanna rose from her rock to wander in the direction of the second and third megaliths.

"Do the rebels have any chance of success?" Jennet followed, clutching her cloak close as the breeze that, earlier, had only made the cloth ripple, now caused it to billow out like a sail.

Susanna paused beneath the second standing stone, her gaze on the third field, but in her mind were pictures from the last few days. She saw scores of followers, poorly organized and provisioned, Crusaders' crosses flying above them. But religious fervor could carry men only so far. They needed to win a battle or see the queen's men in retreat or have some other spectacular success. Destroying prayer books in towns where they encountered no resistance could not long sustain enthusiasm for rebellion.

With this realization, Susanna experienced a surge of relief. She turned impulsively to Jennet. "They will not win."

At the same moment, she heard an odd noise from the direction of the first field and something flew past her head, pa.s.sing so close she felt the rush of air.

Jennet gave a startled cry.

Susanna jumped back.

An arrow imbedded itself in the cold ground just beyond where they stood. It had come within a hairsbreadth of piercing Susanna's throat.

Chapter 29.

"There!" Jennet cried, and took off at a run after a cloaked figure just leaving the shadow of the first monolith.

She heard Lady Appleton's uneven gait behind her and stumbled herself as she tried to race across treacherous, half-frozen clods of earth. Lady Appleton was further impeded by her voluminous skirts. The ladies left off their farthingales when they traveled, but were still enc.u.mbered by yards of fabric. In contrast, Jennet's garments were simply cut and easier to hike up out of the way, but by the time they reached the giant pillar, the archer who had fired at them from behind it was long gone. On this side of the fields, both houses and hedgerows provided cover for the villain's retreat.

"That was no accident." Panting, Jennet leaned against the stone.

Lady Appleton's face was flushed with exertion. "No. Not this time."

"Oh, madam. Someone tried to kill you."

"What did you see? Did you recognize him?" While she caught her breath, she ma.s.saged one leg with strong, sure fingers.

"I cannot even say it was a him. Cloaked that way, the archer could have been a man or a woman." Jennet examined the ground, but it was too hard to show footprints.

"He, or she, took the bow away. I wonder if we can tell anything from the arrow." At a slower pace, they retraced their steps. Lady Appleton pulled the shaft from the ground, but when she saw it was fletched with brown, her face fell. "It is a very ordinary sort of arrow. I'd hoped it might be one of the distinctive sort the countess's ladies use to shoot at targets."

"We must leave here at once, madam," Jennet urged.

But Lady Appleton shook her head. "No. This gives me even more reason to stay. It proves there is one among us who wants Eleanor dead. And I do not believe it is because someone fears she is a spy. If that were the case, or if my true ident.i.ty had come to light, I'd have been locked up or left behind and that would have been the end of it. No, Jennet. This arrow suggests none of the accidents have had to do with the rebellion. And if that is true, there is no longer any certainty that the person responsible will be punished when the uprising is put down."

"Mistress Carnaby," Jennet muttered.

With reluctance, Lady Appleton nodded. "Mayhap. Let us return to the inn and see if my bedmates still sleep."

Jennet's suspicions seemed confirmed when they asked Bess Kelke if she'd seen anyone up and about.

"Mistress Carnaby left the inn ahint ye," Bess said. "She's nee come back."

Mistress Lascelles was still abed, but had she been there all along?

"There are other suspects," Lady Appleton murmured, ticking them off on her fingers. "Carnaby. Sir John the priest. Margaret Heron. The earl. The countess. It must be someone present at the ford and in Darlington."

At that moment, Mistress Carnaby, fully dressed and with her cloak over one arm, reappeared. "Back so soon from your walk, Eleanor?" she inquired in a soft, cheerful voice.

"It was . . . eventful."

Jennet realized, too late, that she was still carrying the arrow. It had been beneath her cloak when they'd questioned Bess, but Jennet had removed her outer garment when they'd entered the bedchamber.

Mistress Carnaby squinted at the weapon. "Where did that come from?"

"Someone shot at us," Lady Appleton told her.

Jennet's gasp was louder than Mistress Carnaby's. She'd not expected her mistress to reveal that information.

"Have you been gone long, Cecily?"

"I could not sleep after you left. I went out to use the privy."

A location difficult to verify, Jennet thought.

Mistress Carnaby stared at the arrow, transfixed with fascinated horror.

Mistress Lascelles, awakened by their voices, rolled over, took in the scene, and mumbled, "Lady Northumberland should be told of this."

"Yes," Mistress Carnaby whispered. Before anyone could stop her, she seized the arrow and whisked it out of the room.

By the time Lady Appleton gathered her wits, and Jennet, and followed her, she'd barged in on the countess of Northumberland. The earl had already left their chamber. Mistress Heron, helping the countess dress, was as startled as her mistress by the sudden invasion. For several minutes, confusion reigned, until Lady Northumberland grasped the salient facts.

"Someone has tried again to harm one of my women!" Enraged, she shook Mistress Heron off. Lady Appleton stepped forward to help tie her sleeves in place while Mistress Carnaby tried to attach the ruff. "Intolerable! Give me that arrow. I will discover to whom it belongs."

"It is not the first time," Mistress Heron said.

"The poisoned soup-"

Mistress Heron dared interrupt the countess. "There was an earlier accident. When we forded the river near Brancepeth."

Jennet, watching Lady Appleton's face, saw the moment she made her decision. Giving an admirable impression of a reluctant desire to unburden herself to her mistress-Jennet could have done no better herself-she told them about the first accident, in Augsburg.

"Mayhap I am just unlucky," she demurred.

The countess was not fooled. "Or someone has been trying to kill you for some time now. I wonder why?"

"I do not know, madam." She grimaced. "Or I cannot remember." She explained that the first accident had left gaps in her memory. To Jennet's surprise, no one doubted this claim. "How did I win approval, madam? To be a courier, I mean?"

"Why, that is simple enough. Your uncle vouched for you. After you approached our agent in Augsburg, he requested authorization to use you. Knowing your family background, I sent to Lady Westmorland for information. She had already heard of you from Sir Roger Cholmeley, a loyal supporter of our cause, and sent word back that you could be trusted."

Lady Appleton looked thunderstruck but was able to take advantage of Lady Northumberland's delight in holding center stage to press for more answers. "You authorized Dartnall, then? Sent him word I was to be employed to bring the packet to England?"

"Aye. Oh," -she waved one hand dismissively- "the order went out under my husband's seal. I have the keeping of it."

"You did not know, then, of my husband's sentiments?" Lady Appleton managed to look downcast. Jennet was proud of her. She'd improved mightily in her ability to deceive. "You did not send a second order to Master Dartnall, revoking your support?"

"No, indeed. I did not know of your husband's politics, or his former career, until after you arrived here with the duke of Alba's letter." She leaned close to Lady Appleton, prepared to continue her confidences, but what else Lady Northumberland might have disclosed, her ladies and Jennet were not to learn. Guy Carnaby chose that moment to bring the news that the earl and countess of Westmorland would arrive within the hour. They had spent the previous night only a few miles away.

"Mark my words, madam, it is one of them," Jennet whispered an hour later.

From an upper window, she and Lady Appleton watched the earl of Westmorland's entourage clatter into the inn yard and be greeted by the earl and countess of Northumberland and their attendants. Master Carnaby was there. As Jennet watched, Mistress Standbridge joined him. Apparently, she had once more been the one Lady Westmorland sent ahead with messages.

"I wish I knew more about Eleanor's uncle Roger," Lady Appleton murmured, "but if I ask too many questions I will arouse suspicion."

"Mistress Standbridge seems to accept you as her cousin."

"There are moments when she looks at me oddly. And she does not like to discuss Uncle Roger. He is intent, I think, on marrying her to someone she does not like." Lady Appleton sighed. "More and more often, of late, I wish I could confess this whole deception and be done with it."

"You might be safer then."

"But of no more use to Sir Walter. And the revelation would not be well received. Better to have Lady Northumberland as my champion than mine enemy."

"She can keep you safe from Mistress Carnaby," Jennet agreed as that gentlewoman appeared below in the company of the countess of Northumberland.

"Cecily Carnaby is half blind," Lady Appleton protested.

"Him, then." Jennet jerked her head toward the burly figure of Guy Carnaby.

"Because of what Walter may or may not have done years ago?" Lady Appleton shook her head. "There has to be more to it than that."

"Orders from Lady Westmorland?" The countess had discarded her crusader's cross for warrior's garb. A sword hung from her belt. A quiver of arrows and a bow were strung across her back. "You did say she blamed you for her brother's arrest."

Lady Appleton looked thoughtful. "She could have ordered someone else to act for her, I suppose. But the timing seems wrong. It would help if I knew exactly when Eleanor was killed. I am not even certain just when she first became involved in this treason." A little laugh escaped her, devoid of humor. "There are still pieces missing from this puzzle, Jennet. That is the only thing of which I am certain."

A moment later, her breath caught.

Jennet followed the direction of her gaze and recognized another familiar face in the crowd of new arrivals below. She sent a quick prayer of thanks heavenward. At last, Master Baldwin had come. Perhaps now Lady Appleton would agree to leave . . . before whatever person was trying to kill her made the next attempt.