Free Love's Labyrinth by Anne Kelleher Page B

the Queen and Cecil, her secretary, trusted them implicitly. If he had merited the favorable notice of Sir Francis, it could only be a positive thing. “What can I do for you, sir?”
    “We have reason to believe that the King of Spain continues in his plots against our most gracious Majesty. An agent of the Spanish government has been intercepted in London—an Englishman, I might add. He was to meet a member of the Spanish government in Calais and receive the plans for an invasion of England. But we have him in our custody now. Still, we would like to have the plans. So—”
    “You would want me to masquerade as this Englishman and go to Calais?”
    Warren smiled. “You understand perfectly, I see.”
    “Who is this English traitor?”
    “A man of no consequence any longer, I assure you. But you will travel under his name to disguise your true identity. You bear a certain resemblance to this man, you see. That’s why I have been instructed to come to you.”
    Nicholas stared into the empty hearth, his mind racing furiously. “I will think on it.”
    Warren’s expression did not change. “An you will, my lord. But think on it quickly, I pray you. Time grows short, and all who endeavor to keep our shores free of the Spanish threat will be amply rewarded.”
    “I’ve not refused.”
    “I leave for London at dawn. I had hoped to return to my master with an affirmative response.”
    Nicholas took a deep breath, considering. There was no reason why he shouldn’t agree. Except, perhaps, Geoffrey and his damnable interests. The thought of the two women waiting in the upstairs bedchamber flashed through his mind. If Walsingham had any suspicion…
    “I’ll do it.” He turned back to face Warren and met the man’s inscrutable eyes.
    “Excellent,” Warren replied. He got to his feet. “My master will be well pleased, and your efforts on Her Majesty’s behalf will be well rewarded, I assure you.”
    Nicholas rose as well. “Then if you’ll excuse me, Master Warren, I must return to my guests. Are you coming?”
    Warren smiled again, another smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m just on my way to the jakes, my lord. I’ll be there in a trice.”
    Nicholas nodded. He inclined his head in a brief bow and left the hall, fighting the urge to turn back, and wondering why he felt as though Warren watched him like a hawk poised to kill.

    Olivia let out a deep breath as Nicholas’s footsteps faded out of earshot. Her shoulders sagged with suppressed tension as Alison turned from the window.
    “Liv! Are you okay? What happened?”
    Olivia shrugged. “I sang another song. One from Twelfth Night, this time. I hope I haven’t caused some disruption in the time-space continuum.”
    “What are you talking about?” Alison was looking at her as if she’d suddenly grown an extra head. “What time-space continuum?”
    “You know.” Olivia grinned. “The one they’re always talking about on TV—Dr. Who, Star Trek, that sort of thing. Whenever anyone goes into the past, there’s always concern about whether or not they’re going to change the future by their presence in the past.”
    “Good grief, Liv.” Alison rolled her eyes and sank down into her chair. “Don’t you think that’s the least of our worries right now? How soon do you think we can try to go back?”
    Olivia shook her head. “I guess if Elizabeth and the court are gone by tonight, there’s no reason we couldn’t try once everything quiets down. But it’s a huge undertaking out there—you should see all the people.”
    “I can smell the food.” Alison looked longingly out the window.
    “Nicholas said he’d send something up to us.” Olivia crossed the room and sat down opposite Alison.
    Just as she did so, there was a knock at the door.
    “Enter.”
    A sheepish Geoffrey ducked his head beneath the lintel and pushed the door open with his foot. In his hands he carried a basket covered with a linen napkin. “My apologies,