A Queen's Spy by - (black authors fiction .TXT) đź“–
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Courtenay was part of the English nobility, however he was also a man of little wit and easily led. Should he marry Elizabeth he would be a man Parliament and the leading elite could easily bend to their will. He would be a lot more pliable than Philip would ever be, for the son of Charles V, The Holy Roman Emperor, was a man who had been destined to rule and prepared for such a role.
None of Wyatt’s supporters were under any allusion as to how the process would play out should Mary have her way. England was wealthy in wood and textiles, its ports and shipyards produced both formidable warships and merchantmen and the temperate climate and fertile fields husbanded high yields of wheat and barley. England was a storehouse to be robbed to supplement The Emperor’s European cities, it would be stripped of both produce and gold in the form of taxes to increase the wealth of Spain.
Wyatt’s plan pulled together both Catholic and Protestant reformers, all of them united against the threat to England’s sovereignty. With the help of Richard’s network there were to be three planned uprisings. Wyatt was to lead the one in the city, but it would be backed by two others, one in the Midlands, and one in the West Country. It was assumed that once it was known that the rebels held the cities in these key areas then Wyatt’s success in the capital would be assured. Wyatt was confident of the support he would draw to their cause from the Londoners who did not favour the Spanish match.
Richard had put his network at Wyatt’s disposal. Carew in the city was to relay the messages by riders when the time came to the outlying cities.
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Richard’s next destination was Ashridge in Buckinghamshire. It wasn’t a quick journey, walking for most of the time next to a horse that the vendor had assured him would butcher well. Over the animal’s hollowed back were loosely tied two bundles of possessions and his wares: ribbons, buttons and trinkets.
Elizabeth resided at Ashridge in a state of constant agitation, always on the edge of conspiracy, with Renard trying to find concrete evidence against her. More by luck than by design, she managed to distance herself far enough to evade implication. Although she was currently allowed her freedom, she knew her mail was intercepted and that spies had infiltrated the ranks of her household. Richard’s visits, if discovered, could be enough to orchestrate her downfall.
“My lady,” Kate said, “there is a peddler downstairs; cook has made him a meal in the kitchens. Why do you not come and see what he sells; you may enjoy the distraction.”
Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “A peddler you say, Kate?”
“Indeed, my lady,” Kate replied. “Today I believe he only has wares for yourself.”
“Has he?” Elizabeth’s heart raced. “Perhaps you are right, Kate.”
Elizabeth went to the coffer at the end of her bed and lifted the lid, retrieving a dozen coins from her dwindling supply. Then she thought better of her rash action and replaced all but one.
The pair made their way to the kitchen where, as Kate had rightly said, there was a peddler seated at the servants’ table. Stepping inside Kate soundlessly closed the door behind them.
“We have but a few moments. I am constantly watched and they have changed my household so often I know no longer who is spying on me,” Elizabeth said hurriedly.
“Well, it appears your sister will wed, the date they imply is next July; Renard, the Spanish Ambassador, will feel a little safer when the Queen is married,” Richard supplied.
“Not much. He will feel safe only when my head rolls from the block,” Elizabeth said bluntly.
Richard quickly imparted Wyatt’s plan for rebellion, eager to get to his more personal news.
“Do you think he may succeed?” Elizabeth enquired quickly, brow furrowed.
“He might. He can raise a fair force to fight with him, he has support of Carew and the Duke of Suffolk, who between them can provide a good number of men to champion your cause. They are planning three simultaneous uprisings against Mary, in the west country, the midlands, and Wyatt himself will lead his men into London. To succeed Wyatt needs to take and hold the City, and that is no mean feat,” Richard replied, his voice thoughtful.
“I will make a note then not to be in London at the time,” Elizabeth said smiling.
“Renard, I believe, is changing tack. He cannot seem to persuade the Queen to dispense with you, and so he is now trying to persuade the Church to intervene on his behalf.” Richard paused for a mouthful of food. “He has papers, false or true, I do not know, relating to the circumstances of your birth. He hopes to use them to have you removed by Parliament as the rightful heir.”
“There is nothing new in those rumours,” Elizabeth responded.
“Ah, but what is new is that someone is going to try and use them to press home their cause. This approach may gain sympathy from the Queen. Her hatred of your mother is well known. If Renard is careful, he may be able to make a sufficiently damning case to make Parliament move against you. This will not happen straight away, and times do change. If by then Mary is married to Philip and conceives, Parliament may be persuaded it has little use for you,” Richard said.
“Harsh words,” Elizabeth replied. “Is there anything else you can tell me? News is not a commodity to which I have access anymore.”
“There is still a move to marry you to Courtenay. It is seen that this would provide England with an English heir if Mary leaves no issue,” Richard told her.
“Yes, I know this. And Courtenay? Has he been involved yet in making advances for my hand?” Elizabeth asked.
“No, in fact, he has been especially quiet on the matter. I believe he fears the wind may change and you are too dangerous a lady to be linked with, despite his personal ambition, although I think you will receive a visit to discuss the matter in the near future,” Richard advised.
“Courtenay is no man at all. Have you met him?” Elizabeth asked.
Richard smiled. “Confinement in the Tower for most of his life has left him…”
“A complete fool!” Elizabeth finished for him. “The man has no wit and even less intelligence.”
“Despite that, they believe you will agree, as it will secure your position. However, should you produce an heir, the crown would miss you out and go to your issue, with the Earl as protector,” Richard said.
There was a light tap on the kitchen door, Kate’s signal that they would not be alone for much longer. Richard produced some coloured ribbons and passed them to Elizabeth.
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“He what?” Robert’s eyes were wide and David winced, involuntarily backing a step away from his master.
“Like I said, Sir…” David tried feebly.
“Shut up, man, I heard you. Get out. I want to know where he goes and what he does.” David obeyed, eager to no longer be in Robert Fitzwarren’s presence.
“What will you do now?” Harry asked stupidly. He was seated by the fire, doublet unbuttoned, streaks of grease gracing his shirt front.
“What can I do? He’s bloody ingratiated himself with Mary, a loyal and obedient servant. Not exactly easy to have him killed, is it? No one would have noticed or cared before if one more piece of snivelling filth bled to death. But now my clever brother has Mary’s favour and is at court. Would you believe it? She does not know what a viper she has near her!”
“Well maybe a word here or there would help; your father knows Cecil doesn’t he?”
“Don’t be bloody stupid. Richard would see that coming.” Robert was livid, sure now that his brother was just waiting for the right moment to trade the information he held over him. Damn the man! At court? He could hardly believe it; the shit should be dead by now.
“Apparently he’s there with that bastard he calls his brother. I tell you, Robert, that is one man I wish to see at my feet,” Harry prattled.
“Who’s with him?” Robert snapped.
“Jack. You remember, he turned on me on Harlsey Moor, stole my bloody horse and felled me from behind just as I was about to…”
“Jack! Harry, stop. Who the hell is Jack?” Robert demanded.
“I told you before.” Harry was more than a little put out. “Jack was reared in my father’s house, some bastard of your father’s. Didn’t you know?” Robert shook his head and Harry continued, “Well, as I said, he’s with Richard now, and the man has the audacity to call that low-life his brother.” Harry’s voice droned on but Robert was no longer listening. The circle had been completed, and it had been completed first by Richard, it seemed. The man, Jack, that Harry spoke of, if he was with Richard, calling him his brother, had to be the one! God damn his father. The child should not have lived. He should have thrown the wretch in the moat.
Chapter 18A
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Christmas came and went and was little marked at the Manor in Lincolnshire. A quantity more ale than usual was consumed and Jack lost more than his weekly quota of money at cards, but there was little else to mark the season. Richard had neither been seen nor heard from. Jack had waited at Chapel Street after his brother’s disappearance and then had moodily taken himself back to Lincolnshire. There he waited until he could stand it no longer. When the first snows of December finally melted he made a cold and unpleasant journey back to London, and that was where he had hoped to find Richard. His brother it seemed, was in London, but no-one appeared to know exactly where.
Elizabeth, as she had told Richard she would, remained at Ashridge in Buckinghamshire, and as predicted, trouble broke soon after Christmas. So soon was it after the festive season that Sir Thomas Wyatt had an unforeseen advantage on his hands. His substantial band marched quickly, its ranks ever increasing, on London. As Richard had foreseen, he had no mean feat ahead of him. To succeed Wyatt would have to take and hold the city, forcing Mary into submission. Elizabeth was safer than Richard had hoped, for although any rising against Mary would implicate Elizabeth, Wyatt’s main cry was “No to the Spanish wedding.” It would have been far more dangerous had the cry been “Elizabeth for Queen,” a sentiment that luckily remained largely unvoiced behind the more immediate goal of preventing an alliance with Spain.
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Richard had received the message in the form of one of Carew’s servant’s who delivered the summons verbally. It breached every rule of Richard’s, but he was left with little choice but to obey.
Arriving at Carew’s London house on Appleby Street, he was shown into the main house and a servant led him through the dark panelled corridors to the yard at the back. They passed a wooden building Richard supposed must house pigs given the squeals and snuffles that escaped from the slatted walls, then across the cobbled yard to the stable block attached to the house. Carew, it appeared, was in there. The door was opened a moment after the servant’s knock, Richard entered, quickly closing the door behind him and taking in the scene.
Carew had
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