The kitchens were rank and filthy. Andrew left quickly and climbed the stairs to the second floor. Every room was empty, the bedding removed to house the ruffians downstairs in the hall, each neat little home ransacked. Andrew sighed and ran up the final staircase to the attic.
Luke sat at his table, gazing vacantly through the casement window to the tops of the trees and their uneasy windswept tides. He did not turn when he heard footsteps enter. He said, ‘You’re back, then?’
Andrew paused before speaking. ‘How do you feel, child?’ he asked.
‘As usual,’ Luke said, turning slowly. ‘Well enough. Unwell enough. Those – people – were a great inconvenience. Did you send them?’
‘Even you, my dear, cannot seriously believe that,’ Andrew said. ‘No, they came on Lord Marrott’s orders. They were sent to kill me. You remained here, all that time?’
Luke nodded. ‘I hid, and locked my doors. I had a little food up here, but I soon got hungry. You should provide for such things, Andrew, and dissuade people from hunting for you. I – suffered. It wasn’t fair.’
‘You did not think to help your neighbours,’ Andrew suggested, ‘who were mistreated and imprisoned? Or, now that the ruffians have gone, attempt to clean the filth they left?’
‘Why should I?’ Luke said. ‘I didn’t do any of it. It was difficult, making no noise for so long and not being able to leave the house. And it was hard without much food or drink, and being frightened too. I missed Mother, you know. I think she missed me. The men stayed for days and days and even after they left, I couldn’t be sure if they’d come back. You should have been here, Andrew. You promised to look after me.’
‘I promised to look after you when I arranged for you to leave the monastery,’ Andrew said, ‘but not forever, my child. You are quite old enough to look after yourself, and have been doing so for years. You dislike and resent me. I understand that, and sympathise. But it means perhaps you’d be happier living elsewhere. I could buy you a cottage out by the Bethlehem Spittal. In the meantime, I have some questions.’
‘Questions. Always questions. You bore me, Andrew.’ Luke sighed, flinging down the book he had been holding.
Andrew smiled. ‘You are not the first person to think so, little brother, but since you persist in passing your days with books and papers, aping the teachings of the monks when it is more than fourteen years since you left them, your life must be stitched with boredom, my dear.’
‘How dull and uncultured you are, Drew,’ Luke scowled, his fist bouncing the ink bowl. ‘I like to read.’
‘But you cannot read, child,’ Andrew reminded him gently, ‘and you cannot write, although some months ago you assured my friends you had scribed a letter to Baron Throckmorton as they had asked. Did it not occur to you that the baron, receiving a parchment of indecipherable nonsense, might suspect a trick and put those same friends in danger?’
Luke continued to scowl. ‘I write better than you realise, brother. I’ve been teaching myself,’ he muttered. ‘Some of my shapes are quite clear. And I can sign my name. You taught me that yourself.’
‘Very well,’ Andrew sighed. ‘Let us forget the past, and concentrate on the future. What are your intentions, little brother? If I buy you a home somewhere nearer Maman, will you go there?’
‘Without you?’
‘Certainly without me.’
Luke shook his head. ‘I don’t want to be alone. If you hadn’t butchered Papa, he could have come with me. Maman only went mad because you killed him right on her lap.’
‘You know perfectly well that isn’t true.’ Andrew sat, drawing the stool close to the table. ‘Maman was already losing her wits, and was quite unable to cope, which is why you were sent away to the monastery. I was kept at home – even though your father loathed me – only because I was older and could work. I killed your father in self defence, and to protect Maman, as you know. He would have injured – perhaps killed her otherwise. A madwoman can be – let us say – irritating for a man with no control of his temper. Your father was a brutal man and did not love you. Losing him meant losing nothing. And I pay for Maman’s home and her treatment, as I am prepared to pay for yours.’
‘You’d buy me a cottage? A tiny hovel. While you live in a mansion.’
‘My father’s mansion, Luke, which is probably less comfortable than my mother’s cottage. Her house is no hovel. It was the home of the head keeper, and now houses her well, keeping her safe and close to the care she needs.’
The day had begun to close in, shadows dropping thick across the garden. Luke’s frown was lost in deepening green shade. ‘The past again,’ he said. ‘You promised to talk about the future.’
‘Well, let us ponder the past a little longer,’ Andrew nodded. ‘What can you tell me of the men who broke in here? How long did they stay? Did you hear anything they discussed, or remember any of their names?’
‘No.’ Luke shook his head, looking down at the scribbles carefully copied onto the papers lying over the table. ‘I shut myself in and kept quiet. I didn’t listen, until I heard them all march out. I don’t know what day that was. Quite a long time ago, now. I’ve been to see Mother several times since.’ He looked up suddenly. ‘But if you must know, I’m glad all your wretched friends have gone too. All those vulgar women with their chests sticking out of their clothes, and the men waving swords. They were thieves and robbers and wicked people. I didn’t like any of them.’
Andrew’s eyes grew cold. ‘Which is no doubt why you profited from their wickedness, little brother. Why you ran to the sheriff with every word you overheard, and gave information of where they might be found, and how the constable might arrest them. Did you run to Throckmorton, too, once you discovered his existence and his address from them? Did you inform Throckmorton where he might discover Mistress Tyballis? And was it you who alerted the sherriff when you heard Tyballis was heading to the market?’
Luke went pink, and looked away. ‘I don’t care. I was on the right side. I talked to the law, not the criminals. And the sheriff paid me. Baron Throckmorton paid me, too. I wish I could have told him more.’
Andrew’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you in any way responsible for David Lyttle’s death, child? Did your laying of information encompass that as well?’ Luke stayed silent, and Andrew nodded. ‘He suspected your treachery, poor Davey. Yet the fault is mine, since I also suspected and did nothing. I had hoped, despite what I guessed, that your behaviour could cause little damage. Every thief is wary of being caught, and most can look after their own backs, putting caution before trust. As I do. But Tyballis is trusting, without long practice of suspicion or care for what she says, or of watching those who watch her. Perhaps, while my thoughts were elsewhere, you achieved more damage than I knew. Perhaps I underestimated you, my dear.’
‘You’ve always underestimated me, Drew. You think I’m stupid. But I’m not.’ Luke smiled suddenly. ‘I’m cleverer than you think. I’m good at pretending. I listen to how people speak, and I copy it. I copy you, too.’
‘Then I should have left you in the monastery.’ Andrew stood abruptly, threw a handful of coins onto the table at Luke’s elbow, turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He ran downstairs and left the house entirely. The horse he had taken from Crosby’s stables was waiting tethered in the garden. Andrew Cobham mounted quickly and rode away from the home he now disliked. He crossed the entire city east to west at a brisk trot, and eventually rode out through the Ludgate, which still stood open. He was aware, as he rode, of the city’s unrest, of groups of armed men lounging in the shadows, of women scuttling, nervous, hands to their baskets, of fewer children playing in the gutters. But he had expected all of that. He rode on to Westminster.