Majesty intends to leave for Hampton Court early on the morrow, and I must be away to London at dawn. I had no other time.”
“As you say, Master Warren. What’s your news?”
“It was as I suspected. He intends to leave for Calais within the week. I trust your plans are made?”
“Aye, I’ve passage booked from Dover three days from now. He mentioned my daughter’s hand once more—I intend to meet with him on the morrow and address it.”
“The question of your daughter’s hand…” In the dark, Warren leaned closer in his own saddle, despite the fact that in the dark night, Sir John’s face was nothing but a pale smudge against a black backdrop.
“Have no fear. I’ll not say yea or nay until this business is concluded. It’s not one to my liking, Master Warren. The more I think on’t—”
“Her Majesty will be most grateful for your service,” interrupted Warren smoothly. “And will reward that service in a manner most fitting, I assure you.”
“And there’s the question of those two doxies he’s suddenly related to—seems most suspicious to me, the whole business does.”
Suddenly Warren had an idea that would damn Nicholas in Sir John’s eyes for all time. He smiled to himself. The plan merely required a bit of tweaking. “Well, what do you expect from one who serves neither God nor the Queen?”
In the brief silence, Sir John’s horse stamped at the ground, as though anxious to return to its stall. “I expect this matter to be concluded in as expeditious a manner as possible, Master Warren.”
“And it shall be, Sir John. Once Talcott is apprehended with the plans…”
The knight gave the reins an impatient tug, and the horse knickered and wheeled around. “I’ll do my part, as I gave my Christian word, Master Warren. But there’s to be no more midnight meetings. If such business cannot stand the clear light of the Lord’s own day, I’ll have no more truck with it.”
Warren watched the knight gallop off down the tree-lined, moonlit drive. It was as well that Sir John’s role in the main part of this was ultimately peripheral at most. He glanced up at the round white moon. He’d see Talcott convicted beneath the light of the Lord’s own day indeed, he thought. And burn beneath a noonday sun.
CHAPTER 5
“THIS MATTER MUST be concluded as quickly as possible.” Nicholas stood with crossed arms beside the empty hearth in the cluttered tower room that served as Geoffrey’s “study,” although, thought Olivia as she looked around, it was hard to tell exactly what it was he studied. It seemed to be some arcane combination of alchemy, astrology, and mathematics, for the floor was littered with parchments covered with long algebraic formulas, and the long tables were covered with an assortment of the oddest instruments. The astrolabe and the compass were really the only two she recognized at once. Her fingers itched to prowl through the whole untidy mass, touching for herself the accouterments of the infancy of science.
Next to her, in a pair of Geoffrey’s hose and with one of his long linen shirts belted at her waist, Alison stretched her long legs. She’d flatly refused to wear any of the dusty dresses Janet had proffered that morning. Not that Olivia blamed her. The clothing that had belonged to Nicholas and Geoffrey’s mother dated back at least thirty years or more, and although they’d been carefully stored in chests lined with cedar, and strewn with lavender, they were indisputably musty. And old Lady Talcott had been much shorter than Alison and stouter than Olivia.
Olivia pulled her own shirt closer. It was one of Nicholas’—and beneath the scent of sun-bleached linen, the fabric held the scent of something that was a tantalizing blend of horses and masculine sweat and soap, something which could only be him. It made her uncomfortable to be wearing an item of his clothing, while he was standing there glowering at them all. But there’d been nothing else
“As you say, Master Warren. What’s your news?”
“It was as I suspected. He intends to leave for Calais within the week. I trust your plans are made?”
“Aye, I’ve passage booked from Dover three days from now. He mentioned my daughter’s hand once more—I intend to meet with him on the morrow and address it.”
“The question of your daughter’s hand…” In the dark, Warren leaned closer in his own saddle, despite the fact that in the dark night, Sir John’s face was nothing but a pale smudge against a black backdrop.
“Have no fear. I’ll not say yea or nay until this business is concluded. It’s not one to my liking, Master Warren. The more I think on’t—”
“Her Majesty will be most grateful for your service,” interrupted Warren smoothly. “And will reward that service in a manner most fitting, I assure you.”
“And there’s the question of those two doxies he’s suddenly related to—seems most suspicious to me, the whole business does.”
Suddenly Warren had an idea that would damn Nicholas in Sir John’s eyes for all time. He smiled to himself. The plan merely required a bit of tweaking. “Well, what do you expect from one who serves neither God nor the Queen?”
In the brief silence, Sir John’s horse stamped at the ground, as though anxious to return to its stall. “I expect this matter to be concluded in as expeditious a manner as possible, Master Warren.”
“And it shall be, Sir John. Once Talcott is apprehended with the plans…”
The knight gave the reins an impatient tug, and the horse knickered and wheeled around. “I’ll do my part, as I gave my Christian word, Master Warren. But there’s to be no more midnight meetings. If such business cannot stand the clear light of the Lord’s own day, I’ll have no more truck with it.”
Warren watched the knight gallop off down the tree-lined, moonlit drive. It was as well that Sir John’s role in the main part of this was ultimately peripheral at most. He glanced up at the round white moon. He’d see Talcott convicted beneath the light of the Lord’s own day indeed, he thought. And burn beneath a noonday sun.
CHAPTER 5
“THIS MATTER MUST be concluded as quickly as possible.” Nicholas stood with crossed arms beside the empty hearth in the cluttered tower room that served as Geoffrey’s “study,” although, thought Olivia as she looked around, it was hard to tell exactly what it was he studied. It seemed to be some arcane combination of alchemy, astrology, and mathematics, for the floor was littered with parchments covered with long algebraic formulas, and the long tables were covered with an assortment of the oddest instruments. The astrolabe and the compass were really the only two she recognized at once. Her fingers itched to prowl through the whole untidy mass, touching for herself the accouterments of the infancy of science.
Next to her, in a pair of Geoffrey’s hose and with one of his long linen shirts belted at her waist, Alison stretched her long legs. She’d flatly refused to wear any of the dusty dresses Janet had proffered that morning. Not that Olivia blamed her. The clothing that had belonged to Nicholas and Geoffrey’s mother dated back at least thirty years or more, and although they’d been carefully stored in chests lined with cedar, and strewn with lavender, they were indisputably musty. And old Lady Talcott had been much shorter than Alison and stouter than Olivia.
Olivia pulled her own shirt closer. It was one of Nicholas’—and beneath the scent of sun-bleached linen, the fabric held the scent of something that was a tantalizing blend of horses and masculine sweat and soap, something which could only be him. It made her uncomfortable to be wearing an item of his clothing, while he was standing there glowering at them all. But there’d been nothing else
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