Her release was so sudden that she fell. The words from the darkness seemed to float from a great distance, spoken in cold fury and through clenched teeth.
‘The name, Lacy, or I kill you here.’ It was Andrew’s voice.
The man spluttered, ‘D-Dorset sent me, my lord.’
‘Try again,’ said Mister Cobham. ‘Dorset was with me. Who sent you?’
‘Lord Marrott sent C–Captain Het – Hetchcomb,’ Lacy croaked. Andrew loosened his hold. Lacy mumbled, ‘My Lord Marrott ordered Hetchcomb. Hetchcomb ordered me. J-just obeying orders, my lord. Let me go – I’ll tell you everything I can.’
Tyballis watched her assailant held fast, his head forced back, as Andrew said, ‘I shall not let you go just yet, Lacy. Convince me of your usefulness, and I shall consider alternatives.’ He smiled at Tyballis over his prisoner’s shoulder. ‘All right, my love? Now Mister Lacy, as you see, is most willing to cooperate. We shall not be kept much longer.’
Mister Lacy evidently found this remark a relief. ‘I b-beg you, my lord,’ he said in a rush, ‘if the lady needs an escort, not to wait on my behalf. And my apologies, my m-most humble apologies – simply following orders and no wish to hurt a lady. At your service, my lord.’
Andrew ignored this. ‘This Hetchcomb,’ he said, considering. ‘Why did he not come himself? Why send a damned fool courtier too inexperienced to overcome a young woman?’
‘The lady, my l-lord,’ stuttered Lacy, aggrieved, ‘took me by surprise. And she had a knife, my lord, which I could not have expected.’ He tried to wipe the remaining trickles of blood from his eyes, but Andrew did not release his arms. ‘B-besides,’ he muttered, ‘Hetchcomb was on his way to – told to go, that is, on other duties, my lord.’
‘So, now,’ smiled Andrew, ‘you will tell me exactly what those other duties were. You will then tell me, in the exact words, what you were ordered to do to the future Lady Feayton, and you will then supply a list of all other information you have, including names, which I might find interesting.’
‘I c-cannot be expected to know,’ objected Lacy, ‘what you might find interesting.’
‘Oh, I think you know very well,’ smiled Andrew. ‘So, let us begin. First, we shall retire to a position a little more out of the way, in case of interruptions. And then you will speak quickly, remembering that I am quite capable of breaking your neck as soon as I suspect you of lying. Remembering also that you are greatly inconveniencing my lady, who is in need of a hot posset to soothe her throat, having been roughly accosted by a ruffian deserving no less than a quick death for his impudence.’
Lacy nodded as vigorously as Andrew’s hold on his neck permitted, as he was hauled into the small adjacent churchyard. There Andrew sat on an overgrown gravestone while continuing to hold the other man in an uncompromising and vicelike grip. Tyballis, following closely, said, ‘The horrid man tried to kill me, Drew.’
‘Unforgivable,’ replied Andrew with sympathy. ‘Perhaps I should in all justice point out how you’d nearly killed him. But naturally the comparison is irrelevant since you, my love, were following my orders – while Mister Lacy had the disadvantage of following the damn fool orders of an idiot.’ Having settled the uncomfortable young man on the gravestone, Andrew again turned to Tyballis standing before him. ‘It is asking great patience of you, my love, but I fear Mister Lacy will speak less freely if you are watching him. A matter of language in front of ladies, and perhaps a reluctance to admit to ungallant acts. There is also the small matter of my being free to – persuade him. You might therefore prefer to wait within the church. Much warmer, I’m sure.’
Tyballis frowned. ‘Persuade him? I’ll happily stand here and kick him for you, if you like. I’m not feeling at all squeamish.’ She was thoughtfully rubbing the raw marks on her neck.
Andrew shook his head. ‘I shall manage better alone, my love.’
Tyballis dutifully trudged over to the church door and pushed it open. There seemed little of interest to examine inside and it was neither warm nor inviting. She was pleased when presently the squeaking door told her Andrew had come for her. He touched one finger lightly to the reddened welts around her neck, flicked aside her little starched veil and kissed her beautifully shaved brow. ‘Now for home,’ he said softly.
It was a good deal later that, after a concentrated half-hour of relating every detail Mistress Shore had said, Tyballis finally asked, ‘So, did you let him go? Or did you kill him?’
Andrew wore only his shirt loose over his hose, and had undressed her down to her shift. He was untying the ribbons at her neck, but paused before saying, ‘The marks are fading. But still painful, I imagine. Does it hurt you to swallow? There is more warmed hippocras in the jug and a salve, of sorts, in the garderobe. I’ll fetch it for you.’
‘You’re changing the subject,’ Tyballis pointed out. ‘In other words, you killed him.’
‘You don’t seem particularly shocked,’ smiled the assassin.
Tyballis shook her head. ‘I expected you to,’ she said briskly. ‘When you told me to go away, it was obvious you didn’t want me to see something. You’re quite easy to read, you know. Like when you made those uncharacteristic remarks about being virile to Dorset, and with that vulgar smug grin. You never talk like that. So, I knew you just wanted to get rid of the queen. And when I ask something and you change the subject, it’s because you don’t want to tell me the truth.’ She gazed at him with interest for a moment, then said, ‘You don’t like lying to me. That’s nice. But you lie to other people all the time. You lied to that horrid man in the churchyard. You said you’d let him go. But you never meant to, did you?’
‘No, my love. But outright slaughter once earned your disapproval, and so – a little reluctantly – I’d agreed to avoid such confrontations. Yet Lacy would have carried tales straight back to Marrott and thence to Dorset concerning the not-so-helpful Lord Feayton and his not-so-modest fiancée.’
‘But won’t Marrott guess anyway, when that man doesn’t report back?’
‘Lacy was sent by Captain Hetchcomb, not directly by Marrott. Hetchcomb will investigate first, and by then other matters will take precedence. You remember Captain Hetchcomb, no doubt, since I gather he was your captor at Portsoken. He was also your husband’s murderer, I believe. With or without your approval, I intend to kill him one day. But I have risked Marrot’s displeasure many times in the past, and am prepared for the consequences. In the meantime, I must report to the duke immediately after dawn. The Woodvilles are deep in plot, and a conspiracy is forming to oust Gloucester as Protector, crown the little king and reinstate Rivers as the power behind the throne.’
‘Mistress Shore was careful not to speak too openly, but it wasn’t difficult to see what was going on.’
‘The information you discovered is invaluable, my love, and you showed great courage. I am proud of you. Now, come here. I have other uses for my beautiful bride-to-be.’
Tyballis sniffed. ‘I’m not your bride-to-be-anything. Don’t say that. You don’t want a wife.’
He was silent a moment, watching her as his fingers traced the rise of her breasts, clearly visible through the material of the chemise. He murmured, ‘The advantage of fine linen rather than the coarse fabrics you once wore, my beloved. Through this I see your nipples contract, and darken, tight and hard. I see those secret reactions, and know when you want me – nearly as much as I want you.’ His hands pressed across her and he looked up and smiled. ‘And I feel your nipples rise and press against my palms, like small hungry tongues, or eager fingertips. Your body tells me what you need, and how ready you are for what I need.’