Free The Doublet Affair (Ursula Blanchard Mysteries) by Fiona Buckley Page B

still loved him and longed for him, and I still believed in his love for me. When we met again, I said to myself, we would put right all misunderstanding, but now, waiting until May seemed not only endurable but inevitable. I was no longer prepared to embark on any illegal journeys to reach my husband. If and when I went, I would do so lawfully, with the Queen’s goodwill behind me.
    Unfortunately, Elizabeth could be unpredictable. I had better make sure I kept that goodwill. Dale and Brockley knew that too. They listened to me in silence and nodded sagely.
    We were all in Brockley’s lodgings. As usual when I called there, I had been politely given the best seat in the room, a stool with a cushion in a cover charmingly embroidered by Dale. Dale, I thought, would much rather spend her time doing embroidery than travelling to Berkshire in pursuit of conspirators.
    Dale and Brockley sat side by side on the bed, which doubled as a settle. The lodging was very small, though reasonably comfortable, with a little hearth and a sheepskin mat beside the bed.
    Dale said, “But after what’s happened, ma’am . . .” and stopped.
    “I doubt if it had anything to do with Lockhill,” I said. “I daresay that if I reported it to Cecil he might have second thoughts about sending me, but I doubt if they would be justified. I can’t report it anyway: I can scarcely tell him that I had a clandestine assignation with a wanted man—even if the man in question is my husband. Even if I didn’t say I was intending to run off with Matthew, Cecil would guess at it.”
    “You still mean to go to France in May?” Brockley asked.
    “Yes, but Lockhill comes first. All this talk of plots may be only a mistake, you know. In that case, I can perhaps put it right, and help Ann Mason thereby. I liked her.”
    “I agree, madam,” Brockley said thoughtfully, “that from what I remember of that household, it didn’t seem much like a hotbed for intrigue.”
    “I damned well hope it isn’t,” I said, “for Ann’s sake.”
    Brockley studied me. His face was well shaped, with that high, intelligent forehead and the strong bones of nose and jaw, but it was not expressive. I knew him well enough, though, to read his eyes. I saw the expected glint of disapproval at my strong language, and then the dawning of a reluctant acceptance.
    “Yes, madam,” he said. “In your place, I would feel as you do. But I still wish you’d say no to this.”
    “I can’t,” I said.
    “So be it,” said Brockley. “We will come with you. Someone must look after you!”
    “Cecil has given me careful instructions and made provision for my safety,” I said. “He’s not just sending me off the edge of the known world with no backing at all into the bit marked Here Be Dragons!”
    Cecil had also offered me a good rate of pay, simply for going to Lockhill, whether or not I got results. If I were to stay in England until May, I would still have to find the wages for Dale and Brockley, and for Meg’s nurse Bridget, whose wages remained my responsibility. Gold is an amazing solvent: doubts and fears dissolve in it in a most remarkable way.
    • • •
    “Don’t concern yourself,” Cecil had told me, “with the question of who did away with Dawson. Just keep alert and note anything which seems strange or unusual. Take heed of any odd coincidences, and, note who Leonard Mason visits or entertains. Above all, your main task is to get into his study and read his papers. Unlock his document boxes. Do you think you can do that?”
    “I hope so, Sir William.”
    “I’ve arranged an escort to see you to Lockhill,” Cecil said. “Meg’s guardian, Rob Henderson, and two of his men will protect you on the road. I believe in secrecy, but Rob knows about your mission. If you need help at any time, you should have someone to call on if I’m not here. I am away on the Queen’s business at times. Rob can be trusted.”
    I had thanked him with genuine gratitude. Now,