Free The Tudor Vendetta by C. W. Gortner Page A

We both know Philip of Spain employed a secret agent to see you imprisoned by your sister.” I did not add that the agent had been Sybilla, unable even now to voice her name aloud, even as I stood in midst of a chaos that had her mark.
    “Yet seeing as no evidence could be found against me,” she said, “I was freed.”
    “Precisely my point: Philip may have interceded on your behalf with Mary but only because he hoped to eventually win your hand and retain England as his vassal state. He wanted to be your king-consort, and now he has failed.” Her eyes flared at my assumption that she had already discarded the Spanish king as a suitor but I ignored it. “You will not wed a Catholic,” I added. “Philip knows this; he fears that in time you could become his enemy. Therefore, he must eliminate the threat. Though we do not know whom he has hired this time to do his deed, I think it is safe to assume the assassin had his consent. As it did not succeed, then my lord Cecil is correct in assuming that he will probably try again.”
    Elizabeth arched a brow. “Then we’re fortunate that my knowledge of Philip surpasses yours. He may fear my enmity but he has one important reason to keep me alive, though I may reject his suit. Should I die without an heir of my body, the succession dictates my Catholic cousin Mary of Scots stands next in line to the throne. Under any other circumstance, I am sure Philip would rather she rule here than me; but Mary is wed to France. Philip would crown me with his own hands to keep the French from overtaking this isle.” She let her words sink in. “This cannot be his doing; but someone clearly wishes it to appear as if it were. You said earlier you thought the box had been altered in some manner; I would hear your reasoning first, before we call his ambassador to task and further risk our already tenuous relationship with Spain.”
    I nodded, gathering my thoughts. As I turned back to the box, aware that Cecil and Walsingham observed me, I said, “There is a problem with the seal.”
    “What of it?” said Elizabeth.
    “If it had arrived from Spain, after such a long voyage, it wouldn’t have cracked so easily. It might have been brittle, fallen into pieces. But look: It broke apart in distinct sections.”
    “Ah, yes,” said Walsingham. He sounded pleased. “Which could indicate it was recently applied. How clever of you to notice.”
    “And see here.” I pointed to a faded area where the seal had been affixed. “There are still flecks of wax, but of a different color. That may indicate the original seal was taken off and replaced.” I returned my gaze to Elizabeth, who regarded me intently. “Whoever did this could have removed the first seal, added poison to the tissue, and then resealed the box. Therefore, the gloves, one of which Kate touched, are not poisoned. The dog died because it grabbed the glove inside the tissue. Biting into the paper killed it, not the glove itself.” I held back my suspicion that the poisoning of the tissue was not intended to be lethal but merely to sicken and frighten. If the assassin had wanted Elizabeth dead the gloves would also have been tainted, to ensure her demise. Whatever ultimate motive lay behind this attempt, fear was its primary goal.
    Elizabeth turned to Cecil. “Can we find out who brought this gift? We must have some record of its delivery, an inventory, perhaps?”
    The lines on Cecil’s face deepened, making him look older than his years. “I believe envoys brought the majority of these gifts,” he said haltingly. “My staff accepted them, of course, and recorded the date of arrival, but…” His voice faded. Elizabeth tapped her foot. He swallowed. “I cannot guarantee we annotated every one. There were so many messengers in those first days, so much confusion. The former secretary to your late sister had files we had to look through and store; we had papers everywhere to sort through.…” His voice turned brisk, to