‘Will you let them mock our employer so, Chaloner?’ demanded Dugdale indignantly. ‘Why do you not draw your sword and punish them for their effrontery?’
‘Because the King will not be happy if I slaughter his oldest friend, his mistress and several of his favourite barons,’ replied Chaloner shortly. He did not have time for this sort of nonsense.
‘There is no need for impudence,’ said Dugdale mildly, although his eyes showed his anger.
‘I suggest we incarcerate him in the palace prison for a few days,’ said Hyde, eyes narrowing. ‘That will teach him to mind his manners.’
‘That is a good idea,’ nodded Dugdale. ‘They are cold, dark and full of rats.’
Chaloner regarded him sharply. Was it coincidence that he should mention rats and dark places, or did the Chief Usher know what had transpired in Clarendon House the night before?
‘Your incautious tongue keeps bringing you trouble, Chaloner,’ said the Earl, raising his hand to prevent his son from adding more. ‘I understand you accused Pratt of stealing, too. I wish you had not. What if he takes umbrage and decides not to finish my home?’
‘He will do no such thing, dear.’ Frances patted her husband’s arm soothingly. ‘His pride will not let him abandon a half-finished masterpiece.’
‘And architects are vain,’ agreed Hyde. ‘I know, because I trained as one, and met lots of them.’
‘It was hardly training, Henry,’ remarked Frances. ‘A few months on a-’
‘We were discussing Chaloner’s claims,’ interrupted Hyde sharply, clearly furious at being put in his place by his mother. ‘I do not believe he saw these thieves. I think he invented them, to encourage us not to dismiss him.’
‘We will never do that,’ said Frances vehemently. ‘I feel much happier now he is home, looking after our interests.’ She turned to her husband. ‘And so do you, dear. You said so only last night.’
‘Well, yes, I did,’ acknowledged the Earl. Then he scowled at Chaloner. ‘But that was before he failed to lay hold of these villains.’
‘I can find someone better,’ said Hyde stiffly. ‘Someone who will follow orders and keep a civil tongue in his head. Of course, he will not be a spy, but espionage is sordid anyway, and-’
‘It is sordid,’ interrupted Frances. ‘But it is also necessary. And no one will dismiss Thomas, because he is better at it than anyone we have ever known.’
She took the Earl’s arm and pulled him on their way, inclining her head to Chaloner, who was not sure whether he had just been complimented or insulted. The twinkle in her eye led him to hope it was the former. Dugdale followed, leaving Chaloner alone with Hyde.
‘I am glad we met,’ said Chaloner, although he chafed at the passing time, and hoped Hyde would not prove awkward to interview. ‘I understand you witnessed Newell’s death today.’
‘I decline to discuss it,’ said Hyde curtly. ‘And you cannot make me.’
Chaloner was sure he could. ‘I only wanted to ask who else was there.’
‘Lots of people,’ snapped Hyde. ‘Men often demonstrate new weapons in St James’s Park on a Saturday morning, and I was there with Leighton and the O’Briens. It is one of London’s favourite pastimes. Well, favourite among respectable people. I doubt you have ever been.’
‘How close were you when it happened?’
‘Quite close — touching distance.’ Hyde’s expression was suddenly bleak, and Chaloner realised that distress, not mulishness, was the reason for his reluctance to discuss the matter. When Hyde next spoke, it was more to himself than the spy. ‘The weapon was a type I had never seen before — and not one I am inclined to purchase, either, given that demonstration of its capabilities.’
‘I am sorry,’ said Chaloner sympathetically. ‘It cannot have been easy to witness.’
Hyde shuddered, and his manner softened slightly. ‘No. But never mind Newell — I have something much more important to tell you. I declined to mention it in front of my father, because I do not want him worried, but I found another letter this morning.’
‘Where?’ asked Chaloner.
‘In the Queen’s purse again,’ replied Hyde. ‘Which means she must have put it there, because no one else goes in it. It was in a different one from last time — that was red, and this one was yellow.’
‘You went in it,’ Chaloner pointed out. ‘So logic dictates that someone else could, too.’
‘Yes, but I am her secretary,’ countered Hyde haughtily. ‘I am different.’
‘What did the letter say?’ asked Chaloner, declining to argue. ‘And where is it now?’
‘It reiterated all the same nonsense as the first three. I put it on the fire.’
‘Good,’ said Chaloner, pleased Hyde had done something right at last. ‘Are you sure the whole thing was burned? No readable fragments were left?’
Hyde shot him a look of pure dislike. ‘Of course I am sure. But I cannot waste time chatting to you. I have an important Adventurers’ meeting to attend.’
The Queen’s quarters comprised a suite of rooms that were cold in winter and hot in summer, and while a few chambers afforded a nice view of the river, most overlooked a dingy courtyard near the servants’ latrine. Chaloner went through the formalities of admission with Captain Appleby, then climbed a staircase that was nowhere near as fine as the one that led to the Earl’s offices.
‘There you are, Tom,’ said Hannah, emerging from a plain and rather threadbare antechamber. ‘I was beginning to think you might have forgotten. Where have you been?’
‘Hyde found another letter today.’ Chaloner ignored the question and said what was on his mind. ‘In the Queen’s purse. Does he often rummage around in those?’
Hannah gaped. ‘He certainly should not! I would not appreciate a man rifling through mine, not even you. They are personal.’
Chaloner was thoughtful. Had Hyde gone where no man should dare to root because he wanted to protect the Queen, or because he was eager to see her in trouble? And there was the question that kept nagging at him: had Hyde planted the letters there himself?
‘He said it was in a different purse from last time,’ he went on. ‘Yellow, rather than red.’
Hannah stared at him. ‘The Queen never uses the red and yellow ones — she does not like them. Her favourites are the green and white.’
Chaloner smiled. ‘Which is indicative of her innocence — if the letters were hers, they would have been in the purses she uses, not in the ones she dislikes.’
‘All well and good,’ said Hannah worriedly. ‘But it means someone villainous has access to the Blue Dressing Room — the chamber where she keeps such accessories. I shall have to work longer hours, to see if I can catch him.’
‘Please do not,’ begged Chaloner, alarmed. ‘It might be dangerous.’
‘It would be worth it.’ Hannah raised her chin bravely, reminding Chaloner of why he had married her. ‘The Queen is worth ten of anyone else in White Hall — except the Duke and you.’
Chaloner supposed it was a compliment, although he was not flattered to be likened to Buckingham. ‘I have a number of clues,’ he lied. ‘So there is no need to risk yourself just yet. But we had better make a start before Hyde comes back.’
‘He has gone for the day. Why do you think I suggested you come now? I wanted to show you how Her Majesty gets letters without him leaning over my shoulder and contradicting me at every turn. He really is the most frightful bore, and I wish she had a different secretary.’
So did Chaloner. He followed her through another grimly barren chamber, to one that was luxuriously appointed, with paintings by great masters and a wealth of fine furnishings.
‘Hyde’s office,’ explained Hannah disapprovingly. ‘He has far nicer things than the Queen.’