The wherry scraped against the steps at Somerset Stairs. Richard paid the oarsman his sixpence before assisting Polly onto dry land. It was a short walk from the river to the Strand, and from thence to Drury Lane. Polly kept silence as they walked. She had the conviction that something of moment was about to take place, yet she did not know why she should have this belief, since there was nothing overt in Richard's demeanor to encourage it. But intuition was a powerful persuader; and intuition was also telling her that she was not going to enjoy whatever this momentous happening would turn out to be. Why was Nicholas not here?
The answer to that question was revealed in short order once they had reached her lodging. Politely, Polly offered her guest a glass of sherry before she sat upon the window seat beneath the diamond-paned casement, and waited. De Winter walked around the parlor with a restlessness most unusual in this generally suave and impassive aristocrat.
"Why do you not make a clean breast, sir?" Polly prompted quietly. "I find myself growing apprehensive and would dearly like to make an end of this."
"Very well." He placed his sherry glass upon the side table. "You have heard talk both here and in Nick's house about the way matters of government are conducted-"
"Are not conducted," Polly corrected with raised eyebrow.
"Exactly so." He permitted himself a small smile. "You understand, then, where Nick and I stand in this?"
"That you consider the king ill advised," Polly said. "That the Cabal under Buckingham's leadership is to a large extent responsible for this, and you would bolster the position of the chancellor at this time, because he is a more reliable minister than the Earl of Arlington, for instance."
"I will tell you now, Polly, that myself, Nick, Sir Peter, and Major Conway have pledged ourselves to circumvent Buckingham's destructive influence." He picked up his sherry glass again, sipping slowly, gathering his thoughts.
"To set yourselves up in opposition to Buckingham can only be dangerous." Polly frowned uneasily. "You and Nick both said that only a fool would make an enemy of the duke."
Richard nodded. "We do not make our opposition obvious, Polly."
"So how would you do this thing?" she asked as the flicker of unease blossomed into flame, and she still did not know why.
"We need someone who has access to Buckingham's intimate circle," De Winter said, deciding that directness was his best policy. "Someone whose presence would be so accepted that conversation would go on around her without thought. Someone who could be in privy places where documents might be left lying around-"
"Her?" Polly managed to get the one word out, the word that penetrated her confusion with the blinding speed of a rapier thrust.
"You," affirmed Richard quietly.
"But.…but how should I gain access to-" Then she saw Buckingham's cynical, dissolute countenance bent upon her, the eyes afire with that lusting hunger; and she knew.
She sprang to her feet in a swish of satin petticoats and lace-edged gown. "You say Nick would have me do this? He knows that I cannot abide Buckingham."
"Which is why I am deputed to present the case, Polly," Richard said quietly. "Nick would not ask this of you himself. It is not a lover's request, you must understand, but the request of a political faction of which Nick is a leading member. We have need of your services. England has need of your services, Mistress Wyat. Will you deny them?"
"I have little interest in politics," Polly muttered, pacing the chamber. "Why should I sacrifice myself in this way? If it were necessary for Nick himself, then… then, maybe, I could- No, not maybe," she added with a flash of impatience. "Of course I would… but-"
"This is for Nick," De Winter interrupted. "He has pledged himself to this cause. The specter of civil war still hangs over the land, Polly. If the king sets himself up against the people, as his father did before him, then the specter will take substance. Buckingham does not see this danger. He cares only for the acquisition of power-power he will hold by ruling the king. You say you have no interest in politics. But surely you cannot view such a prospect with equanim-ity."
"Nay." Polly crossed her arms, hugging her breasts as if she were cold. "Of course I cannot. But is there no other way, Richard?"
"Villiers wants you," Richard said bluntly. "That fact gives you the passport into his intimate circle. He will not suspect you of spying because he will see only what he thinks is there-a female actor with her bread to earn and one way in which to earn it. Such liaisons are common enough, and he is not known for his lack of generosity in these matters."
Polly shuddered. "I do not see myself as a member of the duke's harem, my Lord De Winter."
Richard chewed his lip thoughtfully. It was not as if he had not expected resistance. "Why must you be a member of his harem?" he asked, apparently casual. "Are you not special
enough to hold your own place? And in the holding, you will provide us with the eyes and ears we must have."
Polly poured herself a glass of sherry, belatedly offering the decanter to Richard. He accepted with a slight inclination of his head, refilled his glass, and waited for the result of her cogitations.
"Special," she murmured after a few minutes, seeming to savor the word with the idea that had dropped suddenly into her head. There was one way to become special for George Villiers-the rich, ungovernable, never-thwarted duke.
"Think you that perhaps His Grace might be piqued to good purpose, Richard?" Her eyes glowed suddenly, lit with a speculation based on relief as she saw a way around this untenable dilemma.
"Pray continue," he invited, unable to resist that infectious smile. "I am open to any modification."
"Well…" She tapped pearly teeth with a slender forefinger. "His Grace is accustomed to his own way, is he not?" A nod answered her. "Suppose he should find me elusive? Sometimes offering, sometimes withdrawing, but always willing for the pursuit?"
"If he wants you badly enough, you will snare him with such tactics," De Winter declared.
"And he wants me badly enough," Polly stated quietly, quite without vanity or artifice. It was hardly a fact that gave her satisfaction, but in this instance, it could be put to good use. "I can play that part, Richard. I will spin a web that will intrigue him, that will ensure that he is constantly desirous of my company, always waiting for the moment of surrender- a moment that he is convinced is not far away. If I can achieve entry into his intimate circles with such tactics, that will suffice, will it not? I have only to be accepted as a presence."
"I see no reason why it should not work," Richard said thoughtfully, recognizing with relief that he was no longer engaged in the recruitment of an unwilling accomplice, but in shared planning with a partner. "We are interested only in
whatever impressions, whispers, plans, you can bring us, not in the methods you use to garner them."
"And Nick?" Polly asked, her enthusiasm fading abruptly. When had the idea first come to him and his friends? she wondered dully. Since it had become clear that Buckingham had his eye upon her? And whose idea had it been? "Will it be important to him, do you think, that I can manage to extract the information without surrendering to the duke? Or does he view such a matter with indifference?"
"I do not think you need me to supply you with the answer to that," Richard said gently. "He will be here soon. Why do you not ask him yourself? If you really need to know his answer."
Polly sat down under a wash of fatigue. She did not think she needed to ask Nick the question, but she still wished he had had the courage to involve her in this conspiracy himself. In her naivete, she thought that it would have come easier from him.