property.”
“Property?”
“Aye,” the cook whispered. “My lord Clinton is on the queen’s council, and word there has it that the queen seeks to return her own properties that were once seized from the church under her father. And she will urge her ministers to do the same.”
Kate felt her jaw sag with astonishment. She had heard vague talk that Queen Mary sought to assist England’s return to Rome by restoring the monasteries, but Kate had put little stock in it. None of her men, Catholic or not, would want to give up their own estates. But if the queen could order it . . .
Utter chaos would surely ensue. There was scarcely a noble family in the country who had not been enriched by the seizure and distribution of church property so long ago.
“Does Braceton survey the properties to be returned?” Kate asked, confused.
The cook shook her head. “He is surely as greedy as anyone else. But I have heard tell that if anyone can be proved to be a heretic, their property is forfeit to the Crown and the queen can return it to the Church or gift it to a Catholic subject. If they can seize them fast enough, perhaps they should not even have to be returned to the Church.”
Kate nodded as the picture became a little clearer. The more Protestant estates that could be seized now, while Queen Mary was still alive, the better. Perhaps this meant that a nobleman in danger of losing his land or the relative of someone Braceton had already robbed was the link to the death of Braceton’s servant on the road. So far the council had blocked Mary’s efforts to requisition the estates of exiles like Elizabeth’s Carey cousins, but what of proved heretics here at home? And the cook was right. If the estate could be seized now, while Mary was alive, and then claimed by a Catholic family, it would not have to be returned to the Church when Mary was gone.
“Who wants Bacon’s house?” she mused aloud. “Braceton himself?”
The cook shrugged again. “How would I know? I am no gossip for certes. But we have seen a great deal of that Spaniard lately.”
“Count de Feria?”
“Aye, he’s the one.” The cook gave Kate a long, shrewd glance. “And who is he to marry?”
“Jane Dormer,” Kate said, disbelieving. She knew little of Mistress Dormer beyond her rumored beauty and kindness, and she did come from an old, ardently Catholic family. But Jane Dormer was one of the queen’s favorite ladies and didn’t lack for fortune. “She seeks to seize Protestant lands? But what use will she have of them when she is married to a Spanish count?”
“That I could not say, mistress. But if the queen is indeed not for the world much longer”—the cook hastily crossed herself, for predicting the monarch’s death could be called treason—“Mistress Dormer and her Spaniard would have no more recourse here. But there are dozens besides her who would happily conspire to grab what’s not theirs.”
“That is all too true,” Kate murmured. The lands had been the Church’s, then the king’s, now his noblemen’s. They could easily change hands yet again. But did Braceton want them for himself? Or was he in the pay of someone else? How did bullying Elizabeth and her household help him with that?
Kate feared she was more confused than ever. But she was determined to see it all clear—no matter what she had to do.
CHAPTER 8
“G od’s teeth, but you will never get the scene right! You lackwits!” The shouted words split the campfire-scented night air, and were punctuated by the sound of a boot kicking a cart wheel and a muffled curse of pain.
Rob Cartman glanced up from the script he was reading by firelight in the wooded clearing. He saw his uncle Edward Cartman, leader of the troupe of players known as Lord Ambrose’s Men, go limping past from around the edge of the cart. The two young apprentices he was no doubt shouting at went fleeing into the night.
Edward’s lean, lined face was so brilliantly red with
“Property?”
“Aye,” the cook whispered. “My lord Clinton is on the queen’s council, and word there has it that the queen seeks to return her own properties that were once seized from the church under her father. And she will urge her ministers to do the same.”
Kate felt her jaw sag with astonishment. She had heard vague talk that Queen Mary sought to assist England’s return to Rome by restoring the monasteries, but Kate had put little stock in it. None of her men, Catholic or not, would want to give up their own estates. But if the queen could order it . . .
Utter chaos would surely ensue. There was scarcely a noble family in the country who had not been enriched by the seizure and distribution of church property so long ago.
“Does Braceton survey the properties to be returned?” Kate asked, confused.
The cook shook her head. “He is surely as greedy as anyone else. But I have heard tell that if anyone can be proved to be a heretic, their property is forfeit to the Crown and the queen can return it to the Church or gift it to a Catholic subject. If they can seize them fast enough, perhaps they should not even have to be returned to the Church.”
Kate nodded as the picture became a little clearer. The more Protestant estates that could be seized now, while Queen Mary was still alive, the better. Perhaps this meant that a nobleman in danger of losing his land or the relative of someone Braceton had already robbed was the link to the death of Braceton’s servant on the road. So far the council had blocked Mary’s efforts to requisition the estates of exiles like Elizabeth’s Carey cousins, but what of proved heretics here at home? And the cook was right. If the estate could be seized now, while Mary was alive, and then claimed by a Catholic family, it would not have to be returned to the Church when Mary was gone.
“Who wants Bacon’s house?” she mused aloud. “Braceton himself?”
The cook shrugged again. “How would I know? I am no gossip for certes. But we have seen a great deal of that Spaniard lately.”
“Count de Feria?”
“Aye, he’s the one.” The cook gave Kate a long, shrewd glance. “And who is he to marry?”
“Jane Dormer,” Kate said, disbelieving. She knew little of Mistress Dormer beyond her rumored beauty and kindness, and she did come from an old, ardently Catholic family. But Jane Dormer was one of the queen’s favorite ladies and didn’t lack for fortune. “She seeks to seize Protestant lands? But what use will she have of them when she is married to a Spanish count?”
“That I could not say, mistress. But if the queen is indeed not for the world much longer”—the cook hastily crossed herself, for predicting the monarch’s death could be called treason—“Mistress Dormer and her Spaniard would have no more recourse here. But there are dozens besides her who would happily conspire to grab what’s not theirs.”
“That is all too true,” Kate murmured. The lands had been the Church’s, then the king’s, now his noblemen’s. They could easily change hands yet again. But did Braceton want them for himself? Or was he in the pay of someone else? How did bullying Elizabeth and her household help him with that?
Kate feared she was more confused than ever. But she was determined to see it all clear—no matter what she had to do.
CHAPTER 8
“G od’s teeth, but you will never get the scene right! You lackwits!” The shouted words split the campfire-scented night air, and were punctuated by the sound of a boot kicking a cart wheel and a muffled curse of pain.
Rob Cartman glanced up from the script he was reading by firelight in the wooded clearing. He saw his uncle Edward Cartman, leader of the troupe of players known as Lord Ambrose’s Men, go limping past from around the edge of the cart. The two young apprentices he was no doubt shouting at went fleeing into the night.
Edward’s lean, lined face was so brilliantly red with
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