Throckmorton’s voice was tremulous. ‘I have the woman, Feayton. One step nearer – one smallest threat to my life – and I shall slit her throat.’
Andrew smiled. ‘And I have a dozen men at my back.’ Marrott’s groom and two others stood close behind him; Andrew felt their breath on the back of his neck. His surcoat spilled water on the Blessop threshold, and gradually he began to see. Throckmorton stood at the foot of the tiny staircase. His face was white and terrified. He was gripping Margery Blessop so tightly that she could only squeak, but her expression was more furious than frightened. The baron’s knife point was hard up under her chin and her neck was already bleeding. Throckmorton mumbled, ‘Then let me go, and I’ll let this ancient strumpet free, I swear. I’ve done nothing to you, Feayton. Why are you persecuting me?’
‘Not me, Harold,’ Andrew sighed. ‘These are Marrott’s men out for your miserable skin. Did you think your appointment with Marrott was for payment, or for friendship? Did you believe yourself finally accepted at court? I warned you that the mighty leave no witnesses. You should have left for Venice long ago.’
‘I tried – I tried, my lord, you know I tried,’ Throckmorton moaned. ‘If I tell you everything – if I tell you the truth, sir – will you contrive my escape again?’
Andrew shook his head. ‘The men at my back are Marrott’s men,’ he said. ‘If I let you go, they’ll kill you. And what is left for you to tell, Harold? I know every secret you’ve tried to hide for years.’
‘The name,’ the baron became desperate and his voice wavered, high-pitched. ‘I’ll tell about the poison you’d taken back – and who sold it to me a second time. Two packets. I recognised the seals. I’d bought both at the docks, then lost both to you. I got them back and sold them to Marrott’s agent a week ago.’
Andrew stepped forwards. ‘Who?’ he demanded.
Throckmorton peered over Margery’s struggling body. He had not released his grasp and her neck was bleeding heavily. ‘Step back,’ he warned. ‘Don’t threaten me, Feayton. Promise to let me go and help defend me, and I’ll let the woman free, and tell the name.’
‘Keep the woman,’ Andrew said. ‘Tell me the name now or I’ll kill you both myself.’
The baron looked wildly around. Marrott’s three men had entered the house but were standing back, confused. They knew Lord Feayton as a friend of their master, and had orders to kill only Throckmorton. Margery was twisting violently and Throckmorton was losing his grip. He said, now panting for breath, ‘Help me, my lord, help me. I’ll tell you everything. Luke was his name. I paid him well, and haven’t seen him since. I took both packets to my Lord Marrott’s steward that same day, and was to come back today for payment. And this – this treachery – is my thanks. I’ve done nothing wrong, and deserve protection.’
Andrew’s expression changed. He stood very close and spoke through his teeth. ‘This – Luke. What was he like? Describe him.’
‘Like?’ Throckmorton stuttered. ‘Taller than me, clean-dressed and grey-eyed. Do you know him, my lord?’
‘Perhaps.’ Andrew’s own eyes had gone black. He turned, moving away.
‘My lord, you swore to get me out of here alive,’ the baron called wildly. ‘I told you what you wanted – I kept my part – you must keep yours.’
‘Must?’ Andrew turned back, unblinking. ‘I remember no such promise, Harold. Nor should you have trusted me. I’ve not the slightest intention of letting you live.’
Terrified and furious, Throckmorton lunged forwards. At once Margery, his knife point glancing past her neck, turned, snarling and spitting. Unable to free herself, she grabbed her captor hard between his legs, poked his codpiece aside and squeezed. The baron howled and released her as she leapt on him, squealing and scratching. Andrew leaned over them and calmly removed Throckmorton’s knife from his grasp. He nodded towards Marrott’s men, still hovering in the doorway. ‘Take him,’ he said quietly. He left the house and stood outside, breathing deeply as the cold rain washed over him.
‘Sir? Andrew, sir?’ Ralph dismounted, hobbling over. ‘Is everything all right? Did you find the baron? Seeing the other ruffians and then your giant lying dead there, I went back for Nat and Casper. Look, we’re all here, sir. Just tell us what to do.’
Splashing through the sliding puddles and flooded gutters, Andrew walked over. He could hear the noise from the little house behind him, and ignored it. ‘Get back in the saddle, my friend. I believe we have finished this part of the story. Marrott now has the arsenic in his possession and I have no conceivable method of retaking it. I intend informing the duke as soon as possible. Tomorrow I must set out for Yorkshire, though the journey will inevitably prove too slow. There is one thing I have to do first, but that I shall do alone.’
Nat leaned forwards over his horse’s neck, his hands in its sodden mane. ‘Let me go to Yorkshire for you, and carry the message. I’ve been there before and know the way well. It’ll suit me, sir, and I’ll prove my worth if you’ll let me.’
Andrew frowned. ‘That might suit me too but this business is too urgent to risk delays. You were wounded. Have you the strength? And you’re sure you know the way?’
‘Wounded? Why, that was just a scratch,’ Nat nodded earnestly. ‘And as for knowing the way, I do indeed. I had a warrant out after me once, and needed out of London fast. Stayed in York and met a girl. Came back for Ralph, but I seen the girl a few times more.’
Ralph grinned. ‘The dirty bugger’s got a daughter up there. My niece. Must be six year old now.’
The noise behind them stopped suddenly. Marrott’s groom came to Andrew. ‘’Tis done with, my lord. If you’ve no objections, we’ll get back to his lordship at Westminster and tell as how the job’s finished. I can take a message, if there’s one to give, sir.’
‘Tell your master,’ Andrew said, ‘that I know his business. And you’ll find four more of your companions dead or dying this side of the Ludgate.’
‘That we’ve done already, my lord,’ another of Marrott’s men strode forwards. He carried an axe, and the blade was befouled. ‘Captain Hetchcomb at your service, sir. And there’s no need to involve the sheriff, I’m thinking?’
‘No need at all,’ Andrew said curtly, turning back to Nat. To either side, Marrott’s men filed past, disappearing into the alleys heading west.
Nat watched them go. Then he said, ‘You don’t believe in trust, sir, but I am. Trustworthy, that is – and will prove it to you. Let me go to Yorkshire. I’ll leave tonight if you say so.’ He grinned suddenly. ‘I’ve little to stay for as it happens, since Elizabeth’s taken to sharing with Ralph, and me rudely removed to her paltry little bed. And that’s not a fair bargain, sir, for ’tis a mean lumpy mattress and smells of woman without a woman in sight to cuddle nor swive.’
Andrew nodded. ‘But home first, since there’s nothing left here to stay for. You three go ahead before dark sets in. I’ll check here, but I already know what I’ll find.’
Chapter Forty-Four
With no enclosed ceiling between roof beams and chamber below, the rain pounded, drowning out all other sound. Andrew left the door open behind him but only a grey and desultory light entered in silver shadowed puddles.
Baron Throckmorton sat on the floorboards, his back against the banisters. He appeared to be watching for who came to the door. His head was bare and his hat lay on the ground, while his pale blue eyes stared unblinking, and his mouth hung loose. Across his face the small light flitted, lingering in the eye sockets. He had been wearing scarlet, but now wore black. From his throat to his groin, he had been opened. Axed like a tree chopped for kindling, his halves lay ragged, and where the blood had soaked his clothes, the silk had hardened and become dark and stiff. Sagging a little apart but held together by his head and his spine, the baron continued to stare as though hoping for apology or explanation.