A Queen's Spy by - (black authors fiction .TXT) 📖

should put the world to rights before he left it. He gave me his account in writing, but the final proof of it I did not have until recently.”

Dan waited for the Richard to continue.

“As it transpires, that great man, William Fitzwarren, my father, decided to conveniently forget my innocence. I rode out with him and Robert, the pretext I cannot remember. Robert knocked me to the ground and tied me to a tree. My father whipped me until he thought I was dead. He told me it was for the shame I had brought on his name, but that was not the reason. Steven helped me and I left.” The tale was told without emotion, a recitation of facts now years old. “And you followed me to London.”

“I thought your father banished you for what they accused you of with Elizabeth. Robert let it be known that Seymour had whipped you for trying to take her honour. I did not know it was your own father. Sweet Mary!” Dan was shaking his head.

“Oh Seymour did, but that was nothing compared to what I received at my father’s hand. I don’t want pity. We had a bargain; I’ve traded my cold bloody facts now give me yours.”

Dan was shocked by the icy expression that Richard levelled on him. “I found out from the priest, years before, when he thought your father was about to put right the wrong. As you know—he didn’t. It was too bloody late by then. Robert was about twelve and everyone believed him to be William’s son. There was no way it could be changed; he had well and truly saddled his bastard on his wife. The priest told Robert too. He believed the boy could not carry it on his conscience and would persuade his father to set right what had happened. Robert’s mother had been well placed with the Abbey, and a substantial donation made by William would make sure she’d not be leaving. He banished the priest, and then your father supposed that the only ones who knew were himself and Robert, but I knew, and so did Steven, and then you too. No wonder he tried to kill you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew, even after we left?” Richard asked.

“Why? It was an old crime. There was no way it could be set to rights, and not on the word of a priest long since gone. There is no proof; it could have only caused…”

Dan was cut off by Richard’s bitter laughter. “There is nowhere left within my soul for more pain; it could have been no worse.” He paused, steadying his thoughts. “There is proof now though, or was. I suppose you’ve got it.”

“Here…” Dan threw the paper across to him. “I didn’t think you would want just anyone reading it. What do you propose to do with it?”

Richard laughed. “Fate has dealt me a neat hand, has it not? I wait until dear father dies and lay claim to what Robert has.”

“No you won’t,” Dan said.

“Why not?” came the sharp reply.

“Because it doesn’t belong to you. Despite what you said, you have a conscience.”

Richard smiled malevolently. “I want Robert to believe I will do that, and he will. He will find out soon enough from Harry if he doesn’t know already, that I am back, and he will track me down.”

“That’s a fair bet after what you did in London to Harry,” Dan pointed out unnecessarily.

“I meant that to be the general outcome.” Richard was folding the paper carefully back up. “I don’t want this at all, but it seems to want me. I almost fed it to the flames. Be damned with them all, I can make my own way, my own fate and my own future. I have no need of the curse this will surely bring.” He smiled. “But it seems the curse is as much mine as anyone’s.” Richard looked away from Dan’s face; he had seen the other’s expression harden. “Please, allow me a little indulgence in self-pity.”

“He will not let you live because of what you know,” Dan stated the obvious.

“What Robert doesn’t know is that I can prove that he is William’s bastard son, and that I have also found his legitimate one. For some reason, William kept that piece of information close to his own heart. Only four people know who his real heir is. Two of us are in this room.”

“He had more than one bastard, but the one he placed in his brother’s household is the child of his wife,” Dan supplied.

“That I was a little unsure of until recently,” Richard said quietly. His eyes had wandered back to his hands. “For which I can be forgiven. There is little family resemblance, is there, between myself and Jack?”

Dan knew that was not true, he had known Eleanor, William’s wife, dead some fifteen years now. Richard must barely be able to remember the woman. “Jack is made in the image of Eleanor.”

“If Jack finds out the truth; that he was born on the right side of the sheets, he will try and take what should have been his. He is fertile ground for jealousy and hate to easily grow.”

“God, I know he’s not perfect, but why don’t you tell him?” Dan concluded.

“Are you mad? He has difficulty accepting me as his brother. How can you expect him to accept that? Then he will be killed, believe me,” Richard said bluntly. “On the sword of one of his kin folk, be it Robert, or even by our father’s hand.”

“He’ll find out sooner or later, believe me, and it would be better if you told him. Explain to him about your father, help him,” Dan pleaded.

“In time I will. Just give me time. When Jack finds out the truth he’s not likely to sit around and consider the alternatives. He’ll be out of that gate and on a journey to see his father that will not end well,” Richard said wearily. “Let me gather some coin and establish a place for us then we will be in a better position to…”

“And when’s that likely to be? You are not being fair. He is your brother, and you are running short on blood kin who don’t wish to kill you. If you don’t tell him sooner rather than later, then I will,” Dan pressed.

“All right, I will. In time, I will,” Richard repeated, lying back on the floor, his eyes unfocused.

“Tell me something,” Dan paused. “Jack, is he just a pawn to deliver vengeance on your father, or do you have some liking for him?”

Richard smiled. “You know the answer to that.” Dan didn’t, but the grey gaze, which did not quite see him, stopped him from asking further.

 

 

Chapter Eight

Hazeldene

†      

 

Jack was called to go to Richard’s room in the late evening when they all had retired from the hall. There had been some scant entertainment provided by Judith, accompanied by one of her ladies on her lute. The lady clearly thought she could sing, and, clearly, she could not. Thankfully, for the audience’s sake, after only three tales of courtly love, Edward bid his wife rest her voice. Had Jack been present, he would have been blowing bubbles in his beer as Judith warbled through her tales of chivalry and romantic love.

Jack found Richard with a cloak draped over his arm.

“Going somewhere?”

“We are going somewhere. Do you fancy a walk before bed? It’s a new moon and a pleasant evening,” Richard said.

Jack smiled; Richard sounded in good humour. “It’s a fine night for a stroll,” he agreed. He lifted the latch, pulling the door open a fraction, but Richard was shaking his head and pointing behind him. Closing the door again, Jack followed Richard to the opened window.

“And what great offence has the door committed that you no longer wish for its services?” Jack enquired quietly as he leant from the window to observe, respectfully, the long drop to the ground.

“The door none, but the passage has eyes,” Richard replied lightly. “Go on then, drop to the sill and go round the corner to the right; it’s like walking down stairs after that.”

Both men stopped at the sound of the knock on the door.

“Who the hell is that?” Jack whispered, concern in his voice.

“God in heaven, why now?” Richard glowered at the door, and then at Jack. Taking a tight hold on Jack’s doublet he pushed him back behind the door, saying under his breath, “If you laugh I will put a knife through your ribs.”

Jack, confused, stood quietly as the knock was repeated for a second time.

Richard opened the door, but didn’t step back, and remained blocking the entrance.

“Judith, my love, have a care, Edward has summoned me to talk to him,” Richard said in a hushed voice.

Jack crammed a fist into his mouth.

“Surely not? He’s gone to bed, I was so careful,” Judith said, trying to take a step forward into the room.

“Please my love, let him not catch us together, another night will be ours.”

Jack bit down hard onto the back of his hand as he heard the unmistakable sound of his brother kissing his employer’s wife. A moment later Richard had released her, the door was closed, and Jack could hear the soft sound of her feet on the wood boards outside the room.

“Not a word,” Richard warned.

There were tears of mirth running down Jack’s face, wiping them away he made his way from the door towards the window, still having difficulty containing his laughter. He held it in for as long as he could and then collapsed against the desk shaking with laughter.

Richard stood, arms folded, observing him coldly.

“Another night will be ours…” Jack mimicked, dissolving into yet another fit of uncontrolled hysterics.

“I am so pleased I have amused you.” Richard’s voice was heavy with sarcasm.

“Oh, you have, how long has that being going on?” Jack wiped the back of his hand across his eyes again.

“It’s not going on,” Richard replied evenly.

“Well it certainly looks like it is,” Jack said, still laughing.

“It’s not, she’s barely old enough to be his wife, she’s a child married to an old man, and I have not taken her to my bed,” Richard stated, and then added, “why am I even telling you this?”

“I don’t know, I really don’t. This is so funny?” Jack sniffed loudly and grinned at his brother.

“And why would it be so amusing?” Richard said, but he could not help smiling at the absurdity of the situation.

“That there’s something happened that you didn’t plan for. I bet that really annoys you,” Jack said

“Oh, you’ve no idea. That was something that even I did not see coming,” Richard replied, laughing as well now. “Get out of that window before I push you.”

Richard’s room occupied the corner of the house. Directly to the right of the window lay the sharp turn in the stone signalling the end of the wall. Looking thanklessly at his brother, Jack lowered himself out, his arms bearing the weight of his body until his feet found security on the upper frame of the window below. Keeping his body hard against the contoured stone, breathing shallow and even, Jack slid his feet carefully along the ledge until his fingers finally found the corner. The roughened masonry felt