Free Court of Conspiracy by April Taylor Page A

matter?”
    She jumped to her feet, leaning over him, her black eyes searing into the depths of his blue ones. “Do not play the fool with me, Master Ballard. You must realize that it could be those closest to His Majesty who plot his death. It is no transgression to gather evidence, or to use your skills to confirm theories.”
    Luke, trapped by the magnetism of her eyes, caught a faint scent of musk and ambergris wafting from her warm skin. Her powers of attraction were undiminished, as was her autocratic certainty that he would do her bidding. As men had done since she was a child at the French court.
    She returned to her seat. “Do you want Spanish Mary feeding true hearts to the fires at Smithfield? As a woman, you know I can do nothing, save work to safeguard our son, his throne, and this realm. You will use your talent for us, root out the traitors. You will keep Henry IX on the throne and England secure and you will do it in secret.”
    Every nerve in Luke’s body shouted at him to find a way out, keep well away from this. He had a fleeting vision of the gates of the Tower closing behind him and he knew from the mind link with Gethin on the scaffold just how much pain the crown’s interrogators could inflict.
    “Your Grace, please forgive me, but why me?”
    “You were recommended.” She held up a hand. “Do not ask—we shall not tell you. Enough for you to know that a person whose opinion we trust suggested you for this task. He spoke highly of your talent and said you were so much more than you appeared, even to yourself. He is seldom wrong.”
    “I don’t understand. What skills do I possess that make me fitting? I am a journeyman elemancer, not a Dominus.”
    Queen Anne’s mouth pursed in impatience. “God’s death, is it not enough that we give you this quest?”
    “I know that if I refuse, you can have me tortured and executed, so that gives me the courage to ask again. Why me?”
    She gave a short bark of laughter.
    “Our informant was right. You are no sycophant eager to curry favor and promise what you cannot deliver. That is all to the good.” She paused, frowning at the floor. “Master Ballard, let me speak to you not as your Queen, not even as the mother of your King, but as the mother of a boy not yet sixteen who is beset with dangers. I will not use honeyed words, but speak plainly. Master Ballard, you know the common people who live and work at the palace. I can and will keep watch over those who come near His Majesty in the court, but he is, like his father, a man of the people. I cannot keep him like a butterfly in a cocoon shrouded from everyone all the time. Have you ever seen the lions in the Tower?”
    “No, Your Grace.”
    “If they feel they are under threat, or an adversary backs them into a corner, they will fight that foe to the death. They will be ruthless, giving no quarter. I am the same. Think of me as a lioness protecting her cub.” She smiled as she saw Luke swallow involuntarily. “I am aware his late Majesty gave you the run of his palaces at the request of the late Duke of Suffolk.”
    “This palace, aye, Your Grace.”
    “Then you have leave to come and go as you please, rubbing shoulders with builders, cooks, pages, yeomen, talking to them, finding out the latest gossip. I cannot do that, and people would not prattle before members of my household. I am told you have a clear and questioning mind. I need you to use it on my behalf.”
    Luke could almost feel the walls closing in on him. “But the King is loved, Your Grace.”
    “Not by everyone. I am anxious for the success of the Franco-Scottish marriage negotiations. Others want the King to look to Spain, but I have never been a lover of the Spanish.” The last words were spoken in a dry tone and her eyes challenged him to make some riposte. “Religious unrest is an ongoing thorn in the royal flesh. We are beset with troubles. The King is young. He has no heir. Only now do I fully understand my