Free House of Shadows by Nicola Cornick

tenderness the previous night and how she had driven it out with need. She didn’t want it now, either. She couldn’t deal with it.
    ‘I’m fine,’ she said. She drew the robe tight about her throat. ‘Thanks.’
    ‘Right,’ Mark said. He reached for the latch pausing for a second as he was about to open the door. ‘It might help to know,’ he said, ‘who you are …’
    ‘Oh!’ Holly jumped, the colour flooding her face again. ‘Holly Ansell. Ben’s sister.’
    ‘And who is Guy?’
    Holly hesitated a second. ‘Guy is … was … my fiancé.’
    She saw Mark’s expression harden. ‘Okay. I get it. Well, I’ll go then.’
    Holly didn’t try to stop him. She heard the door slam behind him and felt the silence of the house press in on her. She fumbled on the dresser for her phone. She needed to ring her grandmother. Guilt swamped her. Everything else could wait. She didn’t need to think about it now.
    She pressed the button to call her grandparents’ number. Hester answered on the second ring.
    ‘Gran,’ Holly said. ‘I’m so sorry not to have called before—’ And submitted quietly to her grandmother’s scolding, hearing the fear beneath her words of reproach.

Chapter 5

    Wassenaer Hof, The Hague, February 1632
    T he palace was in chaos. Light spilled across the cobbles, torches flared, men hurrying, women calling with an edge of panic to their voices. As William Craven rode through the arched gateway into the courtyard, Dr Rumph, the Queen’s chief physician, loomed up out of the dark and caught his reins, causing the horse to shy. Cursing, Craven brought it under control and Rumph stepped back, his long face growing even longer.
    ‘Your pardon.’ He spoke stiffly.
    ‘It’s no matter,’ Craven said. He jumped down and handed the reins over to a groom. It had been a long ride from Frederick’s campaign lodgings at Hanau and he had letters for the Queen but what he wanted most was a meal and some hot water. Judging by the disquiet in Rumph’s face, however, he seemed destined to have neither.
    ‘What can I do for you, doctor?’ he said.
    ‘We have lost the Queen!’ Rumph said.
    For one shocking moment Craven thought Rumph meant that Elizabeth was dead. It would not be so surprising. The winter had been notably wet and mild, encouraging all manner of fevers, and the Queen had been taken with an ague that had confined her to her bed for several weeks. But then he realised what the doctor meant. The chaos, the men milling around, the air of panicked confusion …
    ‘Her Majesty has disappeared?’ he said.
    ‘That is what I’m telling you,’ Rumph snapped.
    ‘You have searched the palace?’
    ‘Of course.’ Rumph fell into step beside him, his long black robe flapping agitatedly as he walked. ‘She was last seen in her chamber several hours ago. Her ladies say she was in a melancholy frame of mind. We were afraid …’ He hesitated. No one would articulate it but they feared that the Queen, borne down by fear and loneliness whilst her husband was on campaign, might commit the heinous sin of taking her own life.
    ‘Nonsense,’ Craven said. It was easy in such a febrile atmosphere to imagine the worst. Rumour spread panic like a contagion. Yet he knew that the Queen would never abandon her cause.
    He had left The Hague with Frederick six weeks before and they had made slow progress towards a meeting with the Swedish King Gustavus Adolphus at Hochst. During that time Craven had taken a number of letters back and forth between the king and his wife. It had not taken himlong to see which of them had the greater heart, spirit and stomach for the fight. Frederick would always be a broken reed. Elizabeth would always be the stronger.
    ‘Have you searched the gardens?’ he said.
    ‘Yes.’ Rumph sounded offended to be asked so obvious a question.
    ‘Stables? Outbuildings?’
    Rumph’s look said quite clearly what he thought of the idea of the Queen of Bohemia hiding in an