‘No, just stop and think for a moment,’ Morice said. ‘Our noble German friend gave his life in uncovering a conspiracy against the archbishop and the reformed religion of England, It was he who led us to Ferdinand Brooke. If we allow Brooke to escape, Holbein’s sacrifice will have been in vain.’
I struggled with the implications of what he was saying. ‘Sweet Jesu, man! You can’t honestly think I should have accepted Black Harry’s request to negotiate his release! ’
‘I can see why you did not. He put you in a difficult position. You are a man of principle. He is a reprobate who has lost all understanding of good and evil. Believe me, Thomas, I do share your sense of outrage. His attempt to prey on your concern for your friend, Bart Miller, not to mention his readiness to betray his own nefarious colleague, places him beyond contempt. But-’
‘Aye,’ I said angrily, ‘I knew there would be a “but”. “But” is a shovel word with which men bury good deeds and right thinking. I suppose you are going to tell me I should consider the “bigger picture”.’
‘Yes, I’m afraid I am. That’s the picture I have to consider. It’s the picture his grace has to consider. He is responsible for preventing England falling back into popery. If you knew the number of times he has had to … stretch … his own principles in order to safeguard a greater good, I suppose you might censure him. But, I tell you this, without someone like his grace at the king’s elbow, the war against false religion would long since have been lost. It will still be lost if we do not crush his enemies completely.’
We retraced our steps to the inn in total silence.
As we stood on the threshold, I muttered, ‘Well, do as you wish. Thank God, I’m not a politician.’
He turned and grasped my hand. ‘Thomas, don’t let us part like this. You and your men have done an excellent job.’Tis up to us “mere politicians”, to make the best advantage of your achievement. Think about what I’ve said. I’ll discuss the situation with his grace. I’m sure he’ll want to thank you personally. I will keep you informed of what he decides.’ With that Morice hurried back into the building.
I did think about what he said. In fact, little else occupied my thoughts all the way back to Hemmings. When I arrived, however, other matters pushed Black Harry to the back of my mind. To my intense relief, Adie’s condition was improving. The fever had broken. She was taking food and talking with those who came to her room. The most important of her visitors was her brother, Ignatius, who had appeared that very morning.
It was Lizzie who reported all this to me. I found her in the brewhouse where I went to slake my thirst after the journey. She was drawing a jug of ale and we took it through to the parlour. She poured beakers for us both.
‘So what do you think of this brother?’ I asked.
‘Too handsome by half,’ was her immediate response.
I laughed. ‘Must a man be ugly to gain your approval?’
‘Oh, ’tis not his looks I like not. A man may be a popinjay and yet have a heart. This Ignatius is all bound up in himself. He actually told me how inconvenient it was for him to have to come down to Kent. You’d think Adie had got sick to spite him.’
‘Yet, he is her brother. We may hope his coming lifts her spirits.’
She sniffed. ‘We may hope! Were I his sister, my spirits would be revived by fetching him a box about the ears.’
It was supper time before I had an opportunity to consider Lizzie’s judgement of our guest. My friends and I were all gathered round the hall table and I had placed Ignatius on my right. My first impressions certainly supported Lizzie’s opinion. Adie’s brother was about twenty years of age, yet he had cultivated a short square-cut beard in the latest fashion. His clothes were expensive and, on a chain around his neck, he had a pomander, which he frequently wafted beneath his nose. But it was the large ring he wore on his right hand that, to my expert eye, was most revealing. The stone, a cornelian, was good of colour, but flawed, and the gold was not of high quality.
‘A fine ring,’ I said. ‘Is it a family heirloom?’
‘Yes, it was my grandfather’s.’
‘Was it he who came first to England? The name “Imray” is Flemish, is it not?’
‘Yes, we are of an old landed family from near Antwerp.’
‘A fine city,’ I said.
‘You know it?’ There was a trace of anxiety in his voice.
‘Indeed. I am particularly impressed with that enormous cathedral. The biggest in Europe, is it not?’
‘Yes,’ he agreed, ‘it is a truly magnificent building.’
‘So how did your grandfather come to settle in England?’
‘That’s a sad story,’ Ignatius said. ‘There was a family feud that ended with my grandfather being cheated out of his inheritance. But there is still a legal battle going on and I am in hopes to recover my hereditary lands, ’ere long.’
Ned said, ‘I gather you work for Lord Graves.’
‘Well, not so much work for him,’ the young man said airily. ‘The Graves are distant relatives. His lordship is kindly providing hospitality until I can return to Flanders to take my rightful place there.’
‘How like you Leicestershire?’ Lizzie asked.
‘I like it well. There are several good families among our neighbours.’
He went on to tell a string of stories – many indiscreet – about the leading clans of Leicestershire. ‘But they are good-hearted folk,’ he concluded. ‘I think I may soon find a suitable wife there. That is, if I have time to look. His lordship is much away and he leaves me in charge of the estate.’
The conversation drifted on to such subjects as fashion, hunting and the breeding of horses, on all of which our guest had pronounced opinions. By this time Bart and Lizzie were exchanging conspiratorial smiles and sometimes putting hands to mouths to conceal laughter. When Ignatius boasted of the sums he had won at cards, Bart suggested a game of primero.
At that stage I intervened. ‘Excellent idea, but first I must steal our friend away from you. We need to discuss Adie’s future.’
I took Ignatius to my parlour and set before him some canary wine in one of my Venetian glasses.
‘I am most impressed by your family history,’ I said, ‘but one thing that puzzles me is how the sister of such a fine gentleman as you finds herself in the position of nurse to the children of a mere artisan.’
He took a long draught of wine and set down his glass with a sigh. ‘I’m sorry to have to say that she is responsible for her fall in status. Lord Graves has been very good to us, especially after our father died – worn out by the legal battle over our lands. He arranged a good match for Adriana with the son of a gentleman third in line to an earldom. Any other girl would have been delighted by the opportunity. But not Adriana. She flew into fits of angry tears at the mere mention of her suitor’s name. It was all very embarrassing.
Naturally, I did what I could to soothe his lordship’s anger but he was, very reasonably, upset. He said if she would not have the man he had chosen, he would have nothing more to do with her. As it happened, that painter fellow was in the house to take his lordship’s likeness. He offered to give Adriana a home looking after his children and she accepted. She said anywhere would be better than under Lord Graves’s roof. It was wickedly ungracious of her.’
I sat back and took a long hard look at the effete young man before me.
‘You are an entertaining guest, Master Imray. My problem is filleting out the bones of fact from all the highly coloured flesh of your fictions. Everyone here has become very fond of your sister, and I, for one, do not recognise the picture you have painted of her. Do you think we might start again, so that you can tell me the truth about her and your shared background?’
Chapter 27
Imray covered his obvious shock with bluster. ‘Master Treviot, I greatly appreciate your hospitality to me and your care for my sister, but I’ll thank you to guard your tongue better.’