He gave a childlike smile of pleasure. ‘Really?’
‘Lincoln’s Inn would pay well for copies. But I found something else.’ I took a deep breath. ‘An Act of Parliament, that I think has been excised from the records. Called the Titulus Regulus.’
He sat very still then, looked at me from narrowed eyes. ‘Ah,’ he said.
‘I wondered if you knew you had it.’
‘Yes, I did. You read it? What did you think?’
I shrugged. ‘It repeats the old rumours that King Edward IV’s marriage to Elizabeth Woodville was invalid because of a precontract. Impossible to prove one way or the other now. It seemed to me King Richard was cobbling together all the arguments he could to justify his seizure of power.’
He nodded judiciously. ‘Perhaps.’
‘Yet if it came to light now, it could cause trouble.’
To my surprise he smiled. ‘Matthew, for those of us past seventy, especially lawyers, the suppression of the Titulus is an old story. I was a student at Gray’s Inn when it was published for all the world to see, and also when next year the new King’s men came to the Inns to seize all copies. There is nothing new there.’
‘Forgive me speaking bluntly, Giles, but there will be few left alive now who remember. And that Act could cause embarrassment if it came to light.’
He continued to smile. ‘I found the Titulus ten years ago, when they were clearing old lawbooks from the Minster library. I kept it. But few have any interest in my collection. Martin used to go and look at the books, he was interested, and occasionally one of my fellow lawyers, but I think you are the first person other than me to have spent much time up there in years. And the Act is well hidden in its way, unmarked among the dusty shelves, for I keep the index in my head. And you would not tell Maleverer.’
‘Of course not. But you should know, there is a hunt on for subversive documents at King’s Manor –’
‘A hunt? What documents?’ He looked at me with interest.
‘I cannot say more. But believe me when I say you should get rid of the Titulus.’
He pondered a moment. ‘You speak true, Matthew?’
‘Yes. I care little for any embarrassment disclosure of the Titulus might cause the King. But I would not have you, or anyone, in danger because of that wretched Act. This is not a good time to have a copy in your possession.’
He looked into the fire, considering, then sighed. ‘Perhaps you are right. I have been too vain of my collection. Pride, again.’
‘I hope you have no other dangerous materials in those rooms.’
‘No. Only the Titulus. When I am gone, if the Titulus were found I suppose it could be a problem for my executors.’
‘Yes,’ I said uncomfortably. ‘It could. Madge could end up being questioned too.’
‘Danger to Madge. By Jesu, what has England come to, eh? Very well. Wait here, Matthew.’ He rose slowly from his chair, holding the arm a moment when he stood to get his balance.
‘Do you need help?’ I asked, getting up.
‘No, I am a little wembly after being in bed so long, that is all.’ He walked steadily enough to the door, and left the room. I stood looking into the fire. I wondered if he had made a will, who the library would go to. His nephew, perhaps. And then I thought, if Martin Dakin was a strong political conservative and a lawyer at Gray’s Inn, he was a prime candidate to have been involved with Robert Aske’s group of conservative lawyers there in 1536. And a man likely to be a suspect in the present rebellion; for all I knew Martin Dakin could be in the Tower, like Jennet Marlin’s fiancé, that other Gray’s Inn lawyer.
Giles reappeared. To my surprise he was carrying the book containing the Titulus, together with a sharp knife. He smiled at me sadly. ‘Here, Matthew,’ he said. ‘See how I trust you.’ He laid the book on the table and, taking the knife, carefully cut out the pages of the Titulus. He lifted them with a sigh. ‘There, I have never done such a thing with one of my books before.’ He walked over to the fire and, with a steady hand, laid the pages on the flames. We watched as the thick old parchment flared and blackened. The greyfalcon turned on its perch to watch, the dancing flames reflected in its eyes.
‘That must have been hard to do,’ I said.
‘Well, you are right, we live in dangerous times. Come, look out of the window.’ He beckoned me over and pointed at a small stout man who was walking confidently down the street towards the Minster, clerical robes flapping round him. ‘I saw him from the library. Do you know who he is?’
‘No.’
‘Dr Legh. The Minster Dean. Formerly Cromwell’s most feared commissioner. The hammer of the monasteries.’
I looked at Giles. ‘They made him Dean?’
‘To keep an eye on the Archbishop of York. You are right, Matthew, even mere scholars must keep watch these days.’
I turned back to the window. The figure of a woman had caught my eye, half-running down the narrow street towards the house, skirts lifted above her ankles and blonde hair flying out behind her. It was Tamasin.
Chapter Twenty-four
THERE WAS A LOUD KNOCK at the front door, and a moment later Madge ushered Tamasin into the room. The girl was flushed and anxious-looking, and gave us the briefest of curtsies. ‘Sir,’ she said. ‘I have come from the King’s Manor. The guard on the gate said you had gone into the city and I guessed you might be here. We are ordered to return there now. Is Jack here?’
I nodded. Madge went to summon him. Giles smiled and looked admiringly at her clothes, her green dress and her blonde hair beneath her French hood. ‘By heaven,’ he said. ‘They employ pretty messengers at the court these days.’
‘I fear we must leave without looking at the petitions,’ I said.
‘Well, they are simple enough and we have seen them already. Come to the castle at nine and we can take an hour then.’ He looked at me curiously. ‘Is something amiss? Does Maleverer require you?’
‘I was half expecting a summons,’ I said evasively.
Giles nodded, then went back to studying Tamasin with frank appreciation; she coloured a little.
‘And where are you from, mistress?’ he asked.
‘London, sir.’
‘Like Master Barak.’
Barak appeared in the doorway. He gave Tamasin an anxious look.
‘Well,’ Giles said. ‘I will see you both tomorrow morning.’
I apologized again for our hasty departure, and we left the house.
‘WHAT’S HAPPENED?’ Barak asked as Tamasin led a rapid pace down the street.
‘It is as I thought would happen,’ she replied a little breathlessly. ‘I was in my room and Lady Rochford herself came in, looking grim as an ogre. She told me to fetch you, Jack. We are to meet her in one of the pavilions. I ran almost all the way.’
‘Looks like you were both right,’ Barak told me. ‘She wants to talk to us, not kill us.’
I took a deep breath. ‘We shall see.’
Tamasin looked at me earnestly. ‘The summons was for me and Jack alone.’
‘I want to see what she says for myself,’ I said firmly. ‘And perhaps she will be less bullying with a lawyer present.’
‘You do not know Lady Rochford, sir,’ Tamasin answered uncertainly.
We walked rapidly to King’s Manor and headed for the pavilions, which had stood guarded but empty over the weekend. ‘’Tis the nearer one,’ Tamasin said, leading the way across to the fantastic structure. The towers on either side of the entrance arch, which seemed so like brick till you came right up and saw the grain of wood through the paint, had guards posted in front of them. They crossed their pikes to bar our way. I glanced at Tamasin, who nodded.
‘We are due to meet Lady Rochford here,’ I told one of them.
The guard looked us over. ‘Her ladyship said a young man and woman only.’
‘The instructions have changed.’
As the guard looked me over I was uncomfortably aware that I was carrying a dagger, against all the rules. But he nodded, deciding I was not dangerous. ‘Second door on the left,’ he said. He and his colleague raised their weapons and we passed through. I felt suddenly afraid. What if Lady Rochford was behind everything, and had associates ready to kill us? But that was ridiculous; the soldiers had seen us come in and knew she was here, how could she ever escape discovery?