Chapter Ten
In the morning, while they were embroidering, Lady Dacre informed Maddy that Sussex would be arriving at one o’clock. If she cared to meet him, she would be welcome to do so before the private meal.
“Thank you, my lady. It is kind of you to make the offer.” And indeed, it was. “But I think not.”
Lady Dacre smiled, cocking her head. “He does not bite, you know.”
Maddy laughed. “Of course not, but I’m quite certain he would care nothing for an introduction to someone of my status.”
“Let me have a look at your work,” she said. Maddy handed it over. “It’s quite lovely, if a bit…untamed. You have an eye for color and design.”
She passed it back and Maddy examined the big splashes of color on her canvas critically. “I see what you mean. When I’m working, I sometimes let whimsy carry me away. I will need more silks and wools soon. Does the market have a stall for such things?”
“Oh, yes. There is a mercer’s shop in Brampton, and the proprietor keeps a stall on market day. If you intend to go next time, I will ask you to purchase some supplies for me as well.”
“Certainly.”
When the church bell rang noon, Maddy commenced putting her silks and canvas into her basket. “Do you require my help in dressing for dinner?” she asked.
“Aye, if you don’t mind. Edith is still feeling ill.” She rose and Maddy accompanied her to her chamber. Edith had laid out clothing on the tester bed, more elegant attire than the lady usually wore. Maddy helped her disrobe down to her kirtle and smock, which she left on. Over those, she donned a skirt of soft wool, and then Maddy lifted the heavy gown—aubergine velvet with gold thread embroidery along the slashed front—over her head.
Maddy was beginning to worry about making her escape before Sussex’s arrival. “I had best be on my way.”
“By all means.”
“Do you have any work for me to do while you entertain your guest? I imagine the meal will go on longer than usual.”
“Nay, I’ve made no progress on sorting my papers. Read, write letters, get out of doors. Do what pleases you.”
“Thank you, my lady. Send for me after your guest departs, if you have need of me.”
“I expect I’ll want to nap.”
Maddy nodded and left. Walking back to her chamber, it occurred to her that this might be an ideal time to search for the letter, while the Dacres were entertaining Sussex. Musgrave was gone to Carlisle. Edith was ill, and the other servants would most likely be busy helping Mistress Derby in the kitchen or serving the food and clearing plates. When would she have a better opportunity? The cook had left a tray in her chamber, and Maddy kept her door open as she ate. She was able to judge by the cook’s harried voice, and the subsequent silence, when the meal was being served. After readying herself, she’d got halfway down the stairs before it struck her that she’d better don boots and cloak. The excuse of a walk would seem suspicious if she were not wearing the appropriate attire.
Before leaving her chamber a second time, she spotted her dinner tray and decided to return it to the kitchen so as not to get in trouble with the irksome cook. To her dismay, Cook was standing at the wooden table, a trencher in front of her. “Can you not sit for your meal, Mistress Derby?” Maddy asked, setting the tray down.
“No time to get too comfortable. How was your meal?” She eyed her cynically, since it had consisted of bread and cheese, and a single sweet.
“Thank you for the piece of marchpane. I have a fondness for sweets.”
To Maddy’s surprise, she laughed. “Never know it to look at you. I do too, but that can be easily guessed by my size.”
Maddy turned to leave, but the cook stopped her. “If you’ve no duties right now, I could use your help. A bit shorthanded, we are. Cath is down with the same thing Edith’s got.”
Maddy hesitated briefly. She hadn’t the time for this. It was urgent that she search for the letter while the Dacres and their guests were eating. But she could not refuse without seeming churlish. This was her chance to get back in the woman’s good graces. Who knew when she might need her? “I would be happy to help, although I warn you, I haven’t much experience in the kitchen.”
“Oh, ’tis a simple task.” She directed Maddy to the far end of the long table, where a wheel of cheese, a bowl of apples, and a large pewter serving platter rested. “Slice the cheese and apples and arrange them on this.” She gestured to the platter. “Can you do that?”
Maddy nodded and removed her cloak. “Seems simple enough, even for me.” She began slicing and arranging, concentrating so hard on her task, time slipped away. Suddenly, at least half an hour had flown by, probably longer. Hurriedly, she placed the last of the apple slices and called to Mistress Derby. “All done!”
The cook walked over with a cloth bag in her hand. “Put these figs around the edges before you go.”
Maddy dredged up a smile, hiding her impatience. When she’d finished, she wiped her hands on a cloth and said, “I’ll be off now.”
Cook was putting finishing touches on the sweets. “Thank you for your help, mistress.”
Maddy nodded and hurried out the door before Mistress Derby could think of anything else that wanted doing. At least she’d thanked her.
The temptation to hover outside the door of the dining chamber was strong, but Maddy knew it was too great a risk. And it was doubtful she’d be able to hear their voices through the heavy oak door. Instead, she made her way to the passage comprising the family chambers, and after rapping lightly on the door to be certain she wasn’t inside, entered Lady Dacre’s bedchamber.
Maddy went directly to the stack of papers where she had originally found the letter from the Duke of Norfolk. To her dismay, the document she sought was not there; nothing in the pile was marked with blue thread. She racked her brain trying to recall what Lady Dacre had done when she’d caught her with the letter. Maddy had dropped the document back on the stack, and her mistress had ordered her from the room. She had done nothing with it in Maddy’s presence. Discouraged, she glanced hastily through the myriad other piles of papers, but they all seemed related to the lawsuit or household matters. This could mean only one thing. Lady Dacre had secreted the letter in the coffer.
Perhaps she had forgotten to lock it. Maddy didn’t know where she kept it and hurriedly made a pass about the room to see if she could spot it. No luck there. At last she ventured behind the privacy screen, assuming she’d find only her mistress’s clothing, chamber pot, and washbasin. Those things were indeed there, but it was a prie-dieu and a tapestry depicting the crucifixion that drew Maddy’s eye and caused her to gasp in surprise.
Was Lady Dacre a secret Catholic? Is that why she never removed the cross from about her neck?
If she was, what did that mean? And did Ryder know? But she had no time to speculate further. Hurrying back to the main part of the chamber, she walked the perimeter more slowly. Near the door stood a cupboard she’d overlooked the first time because a cloak was draped over it. Crouching down, Maddy opened the door and found the object of her frantic search. She pulled out the coffer, but before attempting to open it, she cracked the door of the chamber a fraction and listened. Nothing. No voices or footsteps coming this way.
God be praised, the coffer wasn’t locked. But the letter was not there, at least not that she could see. Jesu. She would have to look through the entire stack. She lifted out the documents, remembering that the letter from Norfolk was marked with blue thread. Unfortunately, so were most of the papers in this stack. A shame she did not have time to study each of them. Any one of them might prove useful to Ryder.
Hastily, she thumbed through the documents, eliminating those that were not letters, ears pricked for any sounds from the passage. She scanned the end of each one, looking for Norfolk’s signature. And finally, there it was, near the bottom of the pile. After replacing the coffer, she rolled up the letter and tucked it into her sleeve. Then she hastened down the passage and the stairs and entered the relative safety of Dacre Hall. She traversed the great hall as though being chased by the hounds of hell, but jerked to a stop when she neared the kitchen. Maddy did not want Mistress Derby to see her. She paused a long while, waiting to hear any signs of the cook working near the doorway. Hearing nothing, she dodged past the long table and up the stairs, her heart thudding all the way.
Useless wandered out from behind the wardrobe to greet her, and Maddy patted her head. “I’ll take you outside as soon as I copy this letter, wee friend.” Maddy’s breathing had finally slowed. After situating herself at the small table that served as a desk, she dipped her quill in the ink jar and copied as rapidly as she could. Her hand was trembling and she struggled to make the words legible. She did not stop to decipher the meaning, which was not immediately clear. There was no time for that if she wanted to replace the letter before Lady Dacre sought her bed. When she was done, Maddy spent a few precious minutes locking up the copy she had made, then tucked the key into her pocket.
Snapping her fingers at Useless, who toddled along behind her, she began to retrace her steps toward Lady Dacre’s chamber. When she opened the vicarage door, however, she heard voices, most likely coming from the drawing room. Male laughter, and the soft voice of her mistress. Maddy could not be certain, but it sounded as though they were bidding adieu to each other. Jesu. She’d not be able to replace the letter! She could only hope the lady had imbibed too much wine to attempt any work and would nap, as she had indicated she would. Had Maddy left everything in the chamber in its place? When the voices drew closer to the staircase, she grabbed Useless and walked east, away from the stables, but not before glimpsing the earl’s horse being led toward the vicarage by one of the lads. It appeared she had gotten away in the nick of time.
Later, she locked Norfolk’s letter inside her own coffer, on top of the copy she’d made. She would wait until tomorrow to study it, when the Dacres, mother and stepson, would be preoccupied with their visit to Naworth Castle.
In the morning, Lady Dacre made no mention of yesterday’s visit with the Earl of Sussex, and it would have been impertinent for Maddy to inquire about it. They sewed and read but ended early because the Dacres were making the trip to Naworth. Edith had recovered from her illness, and Maddy’s services were not required.
She returned to her chamber and let Useless out. At first, Maddy had been afraid the dog would not return if sent out alone, but she always did. Seeing her sitting by the door waiting for her always warmed Maddy’s heart. Now, while everybody was busy, it would be a good opportunity to read Norfolk’s letter. After making certain there was no one about, she closed her door, unlocked the coffer, and withdrew the document.
1 March 1570
Greetings to my friends in the North.
You may know that I currently reside in the Tower.
My northern affairs were found to be unacceptable to the queen and her secretary, and the gipsy, who had pledged his faithfulness to my cause, quickly capitulated. However, I am confident that my imprisonment nears its end. Our sovereign, wise in all things, will soon set me free so that I may once again provide for and protect those who depend upon me.
The rising in the north was a bad business and has caused the queen to further mistrust the northern citizenry. For the sake of peace and stability, I pray there will be no more challenges to the queen’s authority and that nothing will occur to turn her attention to the region.
When I am a free man, I intend to travel north to Carlisle. I yearn to see the thistles bloom in the late spring. Mayhap I will bring my Dacre children with me. They are eager to see their relations and most especially wish to make the acquaintance of the infant.
Anything you can do to accommodate this visit will not be forgotten. I will need your assistance and counsel while I am in the region.
Yrs,
Thomas Howard, Fourth Duke of Norfolk
Maddy could make head nor tail of it. What were his northern affairs? Who was the gipsy? Obviously, he wanted the queen to turn her attention to other concerns and hoped the north would settle itself. But did he truly long to see the thistles bloom? And what infant did he refer to? She was certain this was a cipher, and no doubt Nicholas Ryder would know exactly what it all meant.
She placed the letter back in its hiding place and walked downstairs to let the dog in. She wasn’t waiting by the door, so Maddy headed toward the open area that ran alongside the vicarage. There she was, running and gleefully leaping through the snow, playing with some of the mongrels that loitered about the place. Maddy didn’t wish to spoil her fun, so she hurried upstairs and retrieved her cloak, finally settling herself on a nearby stone bench to watch the antics. The air was cold, but the sun was strong and there was no wind.
Unintentionally, her thoughts turned to Nicholas Ryder. With all that had been going on the past few days, she’d put him out of her mind.
That Ryder was a handsome man—and fine of figure, too—had struck her right from the beginning. And the more she saw of him, the more attractive he became. Since her disastrous affair with John Musgrave, she had steered clear of men, making up her mind they were not to be trusted, and the fates had been kind to her. Maddy had met no man who interested her in the least, let alone one to whom she felt a powerful attraction. Until now. Until Ryder.
But she was nothing more than one of his underlings, forced to do his bidding unless she was willing to risk execution. She might have been a servant, a beggar, a cunning woman. It mattered little to him. Maddy should be afraid of the man, not attracted to him. When she’d said she disliked spying on Lady Dacre, his expression had changed. His mouth had grown hard, his eyes cold. And then he’d said, “You like it better than the alternative.”
Maddy feared her fascination with him would complicate matters, eroding the negligible amount of control she retained over her own fate. At length she grew cold. Whistling for Useless, she made her way back indoors. It was nearly time for dinner.
Lady Dacre and Christopher Dacre left for Naworth Castle directly after the meal. Maddy estimated they would be gone between two and three hours. While they were off gathering plate, tapestries, paintings, and whatever else they deemed valuable enough to strip from the castle, she intended to replace Norfolk’s letter. It may be impossible, but she had to make the attempt.
Maddy had heard Edith say she planned to tidy Lady Dacre’s chamber this afternoon, so she waited until the lady’s maid would have had sufficient time to accomplish that. Given her mistress’s proclivity for clutter, this task could take a while. So Maddy bided her time, playing with Useless and tidying her own belongings, before venturing toward the vicarage.
No one was about. The house was silent, as it might be in the dead of night. Maddy tapped on Lady Dacre’s door and entered, heading straight for the cupboard and glancing around to make certain she was alone. She lifted the coffer from its shelf and set it down, but the lid wouldn’t budge. She tugged, pulled, yanked, even hunted for a hidden spring, all without success. By God’s light, what was she to do?
This was taking far too long. Not that Maddy expected them back so soon, but a servant could catch her prowling around in here, and how would she explain herself? And then it struck her. Keys. She must find Lady Dacre’s keys. Surely she had not taken them with her to Naworth. They were likely to be behind the privacy screen, where she undressed.
But when Maddy searched the area, she didn’t see them. Expelling a frustrated breath, she had turned to leave when she spotted the key ring, hanging from a hook on the far wall. Relief washed over her, rapidly replaced by a sense of urgency. She grabbed the ring and rushed back to the coffer. Only one of the keys was small enough to fit the lock. She inserted it, and thank the good Lord, it opened easily. Maddy pulled the document from her sleeve and rolled it in the opposite direction so it would lay flat. With shaking hands, she placed it near the bottom of the stack, roughly where she’d found it. Maddy had just locked the coffer when the door to the chamber burst open. In walked John Musgrave, who froze when he saw her.
She made a split-second decision to brazen it out. He had less right in this chamber than she did. Concealing the keys in her skirts, she said, “What are you doing here? I thought you were still in Carlisle.”
“Nay, I finished early. Have you forgotten, my chamber is also in this passage? I heard someone skulking about as I was passing and thought I should check, since I knew the Dacres were not at home.”
This was so nonsensical a lie as to be laughable. “That’s ridiculous. I wasn’t making any noise.”
“You shouldn’t be in here without Lady Dacre.”
“I am helping her sort her papers.” Maddy made a sweeping gesture with her arm. “As you can see, she keeps everything in these random piles and therefore can find nothing.” She picked up the coffer and put it inside the cupboard, as though she did so daily. After making a show of glancing around, Maddy said, “She was supposed to obtain some boxes for storage, but I see she has not yet done that.”
“In which case you should leave.”
Not before I return the keys.
Maddy smiled. “Yes, you are quite right. But I must check behind the privacy screen first, in case she’s stacked them there.” Before he could gather his wits, she’d ducked behind the screen and replaced the key ring. “Not there, either. We should both leave now.” She brushed past him toward the door.
“Wait.” Musgrave grabbed her arm roughly, and a jolt of fear spiraled through her. Here they were, alone in a chamber with a bed. The last time that had happened, he’d nearly violated her. Still clinging to her arm, he pressed his ear to the door, then cracked it open. Thank the Blessed Virgin, he was only checking to make sure there was no one in the passage. Her heartbeat slowed. Musgrave walked through, and she followed him down the hall.
“I trust you completed your business in Carlisle?”
He snorted. “That’s none of your concern.”
“Merely a friendly inquiry. I found it interesting that the necessity of your going to Carlisle coincided with the earl’s visit.” The words were out before Maddy could consider how risky it was to make such a comment.
They’d been walking toward the drawing room. Without warning, he stopped and shoved her against the wall, so hard her head slammed against the plaster and then whipped forward. She cried out in pain. Musgrave towered over her, caging her. “What do you know?” he asked.
“Nothing. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He bent down until his face was so close to hers, she could see the broken blood vessels on his nose and the tiny wrinkles beginning to form around his eyes.
His voice was low. “Have a care, mistress. Servants run off all the time. If you were to disappear, Lady Dacre wouldn’t trouble herself too much.”
Maddy’s blood went cold. This was more than an implied threat. She itched to raise her arms and push him away, but instead she clutched her skirts to prevent herself from doing something so futile. “I have friends who would make inquiries.”
Abruptly, he backed away, glowered at her one last time, and strode off. Maddy rubbed the back of her head. Her neck was already aching, and she hoped Lady Dacre would not summon her to do any work this afternoon.
…
Maddy spent the next morning helping with the booty the Dacres had hauled over from Naworth Castle, making an inventory of all the goods. Every able-bodied servant had been pressed into service, carrying the treasure upstairs and laying it out on a long table in a room Maddy had never been in. Perishable goods, such as loafsugar, dried ginger, and salad oil had already been delivered to the kitchen.
In the afternoon they embroidered. Maddy stole a look at Lady Dacre as she bent her head to her work. She thought it unlikely the lady had noticed that Norfolk’s letter had gone missing for a short time. If so, she would probably conclude that she herself had misplaced it. Musgrave had obviously entered her chamber with the intention of snooping and must know if he informed on Maddy, she wouldn’t hesitate to return the favor. What was he looking for, she wondered? And what was it he feared she knew?
Lady Dacre was feeling ill the following day. Edith told her she thought the mistress suffered from the same complaint she herself had recently gotten over. Maddy attended Sunday services by herself and dined alone. She did not know where the men were, nor did she inquire. In the afternoon, she walked about the property. The air was crisp, but the sun shone with a brilliant fervor. Because it was Sunday, only a few workers were on hand to feed livestock and tend to one or two sick animals. She caught a glimpse of Christopher Dacre’s coursers, Devil and Prince, over by the stables. With a shudder, she walked in the opposite direction.
On Monday, Lady Dacre emerged from her bedchamber looking tired and pale. Maddy read her favorite Bible stories to her, and when she nodded off, sewed. By Tuesday she had fully recovered, and they returned to their usual routine.
That night lying in bed, Maddy thoughts again turned to Ryder. She would see him tomorrow. A pleasurable feeling, more than pleasurable, if she were honest, nestled against her heart. Conjuring up his face threatened to steal her sanity. Those green eyes—severe, judging, but offset, at times, by a sweetness around his mouth. Sleep claimed her with his image still clearly visible in her mind’s eye.