Timothy seemed worryingly unperturbed by my adamant refusal.
‘A pity,’ he remarked cheerfully, pouring me more wine. ‘But I’m afraid, Roger old friend, that you have no choice. My Lord of Gloucester has requested your services and I don’t intend he should be disappointed. We leave Bristol this afternoon, so you’d better go home and pack anything you might need. A horse will be provided for you — at His Grace’s expense, of course.’
‘And how,’ I enquired coldly, ‘do you intend forcing me go with you if I refuse?’
He pushed aside his own mazer and settled forward on his stool, arms folded in front of him on the table.
‘There’s the little matter of your treasonable activities last summer,’ he pointed out, ‘helping an enemy of King Edward to escape my clutches. Oh, I know the proof is a bit thin, but I could make things very unpleasant for you, Roger, if I put my mind to it. For you and your family. If I made a few enquiries in Marsh Street among your Irish friends, for instance, I feel sure I could gather enough evidence to substantiate a case against you. At the time, I turned a blind eye to what you did because I couldn’t see there was anything to gain by charging you. Besides, I like you. We’ve been friends for years, and you’ve rendered Duke Richard good service. I’d hate to see you die a traitor’s death. Agonizingly protracted and very messy. So, you see, I feel sure you’ll be sensible and do as I ask. Or rather, as Duke Richard asks.’
I stared at the spy, so angry with both myself and him that I was temporarily struck dumb. In a futile gesture, I sent my mazer spinning, watching his look of horror as the precious Rhenish spilled across the table top and smiling as he was forced to leap to his feet to avoid being drenched with the stuff.
‘You — you — you fool!’ he bellowed. ‘Wasting decent wine!’
I don’t know what might have happened next had the door not opened just at that moment, and a small, self-important page announced, ‘The Earl of Lincoln.’
I judged the King’s nephew to be about seventeen or eighteen years of age, a very handsome lad of great grace and charm. He must have sensed the tension in the atmosphere, but he ignored it, as he did the spilled wine, smiling gaily at Timothy and clapping me on the shoulder in the friendliest manner possible.
‘So! You must be the famous chapman of whom my Uncle Gloucester speaks with such admiration and fondness. Our worthy spymaster has told you, I suppose, that we need you in London to help solve a crime. I’ve ridden with him from the capital to add my entreaties to his request and also — I must be honest — because I was curious to meet you.’ He grinned broadly, joyously. ‘And now I have.’
‘Your — Your Highness is very kind,’ I stammered. ‘But I can hardly believe the King’s nephew would be eager to meet a common p-pedlar.’
He gave a great roar of laughter at that and once again smote me on the shoulder.
‘Good God, man, if we’re to talk of being common, there’s plenty of plebeian blood on the spear side of my family.’ (His father was the Duke of Suffolk, his mother the King’s sister, Elizabeth.) ‘Why, the founder of our family’s fortunes, William de la Pole, was a moneylender from Hull, in Yorkshire. My great-great-grandfather, Geoffrey Chaucer, was the son of a London wine merchant — and if you’ve ever read any of those tales of his about pilgrims riding to Canterbury, you’ll know that he had a truly bawdy sense of humour. His wife, my great-great-grandmother Chaucer, was the daughter of a Picardy herald, one Payne de Roet.’ He broke off, aware, perhaps, that he might have denied his royal blood a trifle too enthusiastically. ‘Of course,’ he added with a self-conscious laugh, ‘on my mother’s side, the Plantagenets can claim descent from both Alfred the Great and from Charlemagne.’
I gave a brief bow. ‘Which proves my point.’
‘No, no! Timothy, you’ve explained our dilemma to Master Chapman?’
The spy had regained his composure. ‘Not yet, Your Highness. Roger hasn’t long arrived. But he has expressed his willingness to accompany us back to London and to give us the benefit of his extraordinary talent.’
‘Splendid!’ The earl beamed at us both and I was afraid for a moment that he was going to thump my shoulder for a third time. (I could feel the bruise forming already.) Fortunately, he restrained himself. ‘You can explain everything to him during dinner. I’ve promised to dine with the Constable, and places have been reserved for the pair of you at one of the lower tables.’
‘Unnecessary, My Lord,’ Timothy answered suavely. ‘Roger has invited me to eat with him and his family, but we shall be ready to leave with you and your cavalcade at noon.’
I choked, but no one seemed to notice.
‘Good! Good! You’ll have more privacy.’ Lincoln swung on his heel while his page scrambled to open the door. ‘Master Chapman, many thanks. My Uncle Gloucester is looking forward, I know, to meeting you again.’
Adela was relieved to get me back safe and sound, but unhappy at seeing my companion, whom she rightly regarded as trouble.
She and I held conference in the kitchen, while the two elder children entertained Timothy in the parlour, where he proved himself surprisingly adept at playing fivestones, a game at which Elizabeth and Nicholas normally excelled.
‘I was going on my travels, anyway,’ I argued. ‘I might just as well go to London as elsewhere.’
‘But you won’t be earning any money,’ my practically minded wife pointed out. ‘And working for the Duke has often proved hazardous. If anything happened, how should I manage without you? I think you should refuse.’
‘I can’t,’ I said and explained why.
Adela was horrified. ‘Timothy wouldn’t do that to you! He’s your friend.’
I shook my head. ‘He’s a servant of the state first and my friend a very poor second. Don’t underestimate him, sweetheart. He’s a ruthless man. He couldn’t do his job properly if he weren’t. I’ve no choice but to go with him. And it’s my own foolish fault that I’m in that position. However, I shall take my pack with me. It’s often proved useful for getting my foot inside a stranger’s door, and I might make some money as well. Now, shall we eat? It must be nearly ten o’clock.’
At Adela’s suggestion, Timothy and I ate alone in the parlour, free from interruption by our three young limbs of Satan and from the querulous demands of the stick-thumping patient upstairs. Using the top of an old leather-bound chest we had recently acquired as a table, we made short work of my wife’s meat pasties and gravy, cinnamon tarts and stewed pippins, all washed down with good, strong ale. Rubbing his belly with satisfaction, Timothy was moved to remark that such a meal was enough to make a man think of settling down and getting married himself. But a few seconds later, the sound of Adam throwing one of his tantrums in the kitchen made the spy hurriedly change his mind.
‘So?’ I asked. ‘What’s this all about?’
Timothy drank the last of his ale. ‘A simple enough case, really. Simple, that is, to a man of your deductive powers.’ He noticed my expression and laughed. ‘All right! All right! I won’t insult you with too much flattery.’ Without being invited, he removed himself from his stool to the room’s one armchair and leaned back with a sigh of repletion.
‘Go on,’ I said, valiantly suppressing my annoyance. ‘For a start, what’s Duke Richard doing in London? I understood he rarely leaves Yorkshire nowadays, his dislike of the Queen and her family being so intense.’
Timothy settled himself more comfortably, belched loudly and nodded. ‘That’s true, but in a few days’ time, the Dowager Duchess of Burgundy is to pay a visit to the the land of her birth and the whole family — or as many members of it as can be assembled — have been summoned to London to do her honour. The Duke and Duchess of Gloucester’s presence has been particularly requested by the King.’ Timothy grimaced. ‘Easy to guess why, of course. George of Clarence was always Duchess Margaret’s favourite sibling. Her first meeting with the Woodvilles and brother Edward since George’s death is likely to be awkward, to say the least. Duke Richard, who not only had no hand in that death, but protested vehemently against his brother’s attainder and execution, will be the buffer, the pourer of oil on troubled waters, the mediator between the English and Burgundian courts. Young Lincoln and his parents, the Duke and Duchess of Suffolk, will be three others. Also Duchess Cicely has already left Berkhamsted and taken up residence in Baynard’s Castle, where the Dowager Duchess Margaret and some of her retinue will be housed. The two women will no doubt have a lot to say to one another in private concerning the Queen and her numerous kinfolk, but the King can depend on his mother to ensure that all her children behave themselves with dignity and propriety in public.’