Face Down Before Rebel Hooves - Part 8
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Part 8

Marion did not look convinced, but she again enfolded "Nell" in her musky embrace. "I am heartily glad you have come back to us, coz. Welcome home."

Several hours later, Susanna returned to the garden. She expected to find Lionel there, but her stomach clenched at the sight of him . . . walking arm in arm with Marion Standbridge. When Lionel leaned down to speak to her, Marion's laughter rippled forth, a light trill that put Susanna in mind of stories about the fairy folk.

Piskies were said to bemuse the mind and seduce the unwary. Certes, Lionel looked as if he'd fallen under some sort of spell! He appeared transfixed by Marion's every word. Worse, he seemed to be answering questions she put to him.

Susanna had thought Marion accepted "Nell," both as long-lost cousin and as fellow conspirator. Had she been hasty in coming to that conclusion? Praying Lionel had not already let something slip, she went in search of the countess of Northumberland. Susanna's impersonation would be safer if Lionel left Topcliffe, and since none of Walter's agents had communicated with her, she told herself she had every reason to send her man to him.

"I came here to free myself from the worst excesses of the queen's new men," she explained to Lady Northumberland, after she requested that Rosamond be added to the household at Wressel. "I would have my child safe, too. If I leave her where she is, it may occur to my husband to use her against me."

"Children are often hostages to fortune," the countess agreed. "Send your man to fetch her and advise him to make haste. Soon it will no longer be safe to travel to the North."

"Winter is almost upon us."

Lady Northumberland's smile was arch. "Aye. That, too."

No more than an hour after Lionel left Topcliffe, having sworn to Susanna that he'd said nothing to make Marion suspect that her cousin was an imposter, the earl of Northumberland burst into his wife's chamber. "Another messenger from the earl of Suss.e.x has arrived!" he blurted. "I am once again summoned to York."

The countess took one look at his pale face and dispatched Marion to fetch Guy Carnaby. Then she confiscated the piece of parchment her husband had been waving in her face. "From the lord president of the council in the North," she muttered as she skimmed its contents. "I care little for the tone of this." She read a portion aloud: "Look not to escape the plague in this world that G.o.d hath appointed to disobedience, and in the world to come the punishment that He hath promised to be due for it."

"What shall I do, Anne?" the earl twisted his beringed hands together and looked to his wife for guidance.

Her waiting gentlewomen gave up all pretense of continuing their game of primero to listen for her answer. Susanna held her breath. If she had wanted proof of the countess's position in this household, she had it now.

"Suss.e.x wishes to force your hand, to push you into making a choice. Submit and go to York and you place yourself at the mercy of the queen. That is no choice at all."

"What else is there to do?"

"Delay."

"I have delayed all I can. The pursuivant Suss.e.x sent last week made the same demand. I promised then to come within a few days. Now Suss.e.x insists that I fulfill that promise."

"What have you done with his latest messenger?"

"Sent him to wait in the village while I compose an answer."

"Better to have told him no outright, as the earl of Westmorland has already done."

Marion returned with Carnaby and Sir John, the priest, and a servant to light more tapers. As the chamber filled with the scent of beeswax. Sir John added his support to the countess's plan, but the earl continued to balk.

"What if Suss.e.x sends a force to seize me? What if one is already on the way? We must flee. We must hide." He fiddled with his beard, knotting the red-brown strands around his fingers. "We can spend the night in the keeper's house. None would think to look for us there. Then at first light we will go north. I've fortified castles there. Alnwick. Or Warkworth."

Lady Northumberland contained her impatience with visible effort. "Will you abandon everything at this late date? You know that Westmorland has already written to the pope, asking His Holiness for aid."

The priest's look of alarm darted from the earl and countess to her women, still cl.u.s.tered around the hearth with their cards. "My lady! Have a care. Send your attendants away that we may speak freely."

"They are as concerned in this as I am," she told him. "Any decision made here affects them, too."

Sir John reluctantly bowed his acceptance of her decree.

"All will be well, my lord." Carnaby ignored the priest to address the earl. "You have promises of help from both de Spes and the duke of Alba."

The earl's hand dropped to the front of his doublet. Something he had beneath the velvet made a crinkling noise. "Yes. I have both letters here, and the second copy of the one Lady Pendennis brought."

His reference puzzled Susanna, but as long as they did not seem to mistrust her, she was not concerned by it. Alba had written the letter she'd brought to Topcliffe. Guerau de Spes, she recalled, was the current Spanish amba.s.sador. Since he lived in London, she did not imagine his support would be of much practical use in the North.

"Is it wise to carry those about with you?" Lady Northumberland tapped the front of her husband's doublet with one slender finger.

"Both are in a safe cipher."

Not when Walter Pendennis had been in possession of the duke of Alba's letter, Susanna thought. She had no doubt he'd broken whatever secret code the conspirators used.

"I will wall myself up at Alnwick," the earl declared. "They'll not come after me there."

"It is futile to flee unless you mean to leave the realm."

"Live in exile?" Appalled by the suggestion, he goggled at her.

"Submit. Live in exile. Or stand and fight." As her husband grew ever more uncertain what he wanted to do, Lady Northumberland's confidence increased. "Alba promised help."

Susanna held her breath, waiting for someone to step in to curb her reckless enthusiasm. The countess's avid expression gave her away. She enjoyed being the center of attention and reveled in the prospect of more excitement to come.

"It is too early," the earl complained in a petulant voice.

"Declare for rebellion," his wife urged him. "Do it now."

"I needs must think." Without another word, he left the room.

Carnaby would have followed him had the countess not caught his arm. "Let him go. We do not need him."

"If he flees, all is lost."

"He will neither flee nor falter. I'll not give him time to panic to that extent. And if he cannot be brought round by other means, I will trick him into declaring himself."

No one dared ask what she had in mind.

"Here is what you must do," she continued. "When midnight comes, ring the bells in Topcliffe church in reverse order."

"But madam, that is the call to arms. The duke of Alba is not yet here. The earl-"

"Do not tell me how to deal with the earl!"

Her dark eyes blazed, and Susanna, in her mind's eye, imagined the countess holding a pistol to her husband's head, forcing him to commit himself to rebellion. She shook her head to dispel the image. For all Lady Northumberland's ambition, she was fond of her b.u.mbling spouse.

She was also determined upon her course. Calling to her women, she ordered them to begin packing. "On the morrow, we will go to Brancepeth," she declared, "there to join forces with the earl of Westmorland."

Chapter 15.

Sir Walter Pendennis's step was jaunty in spite of the condition of York's narrow, unpaved streets. The center of the city was so strewn with rubble that it put him in mind of the aftermath of a siege. The smell from the river encouraged that impression. Being tidal, it did little to carry away noxious refuse discharged into it. In truth, however, the devastation was the result of a wholesale tearing down of churches. The destruction had begun with the dissolution of the monasteries and was still ongoing.

Walter wondered idly if York would be a target for the rebels. He doubted it. Logic dictated that they march direct to Tutbury Castle in an attempt to free the captive queen of Scots. He hoped they would. A quick ending to an ill-conceived uprising would suit him well.

The message Dartnall had entrusted to Eleanor had advised the conspirators to delay any action until spring, by which time the pope would have issued a bull of excommunication against the queen and the duke of Alba would be justified in invading England. The missive Susanna had taken to Topcliffe had said something quite different. Thanks to Walter, Northumberland believed an armada would arrive off Hartlepool by mid-November, ready to invade at his signal.

Walter's lips curved into a self-satisfied smile as he reached the George in Coney Street, the inn where Nick Baldwin lodged. Hartlepool's harbor went dry at low tide. An extra precaution. Walter felt confident he'd left little to chance.

Baldwin did not look pleased to find Walter at his door. He offered him no refreshment, nor was there anywhere to sit in his small room under the eaves, save upon the bed. Both men remained standing.

"You have heard the rumors?" Walter asked.

"More than rumors, I do think."

"Aye. The rebels are up in arms. Suss.e.x sent a messenger to Topcliffe yesterday. He was still in the village when the signal was given-church bells rung in reverse order at midnight. He left at once and hid in the woods till dawn, then set out again at first light."

"What news of Susanna?"

"She remains at Topcliffe, and you, Master Baldwin, must not interfere with her there." Walter did not trust the merchant's promise to stay away. It was only his fear of endangering Susanna that had restrained him thus far.

Baldwin ducked as he pa.s.sed, pacing, under the low eaves. The expression on his face was not pleasant. "What happened when your man took the second copy of Dartnall's packet to Topcliffe? Did he see her?"

"He was not allowed past the gate, but there is no reason to think they mistrust Eleanor. The order for her death was a mistake. They know that now. Once she left me, any reason to harm her vanished."

But to Walter's annoyance, his conscience had been troubled ever since Baldwin turned up in York. Had he kept more from Susanna than he should have? She'd faced danger before, he reminded himself. And once before, because he'd failed to protect her, she'd almost lost her life.

She'd forgiven him for that. She'd forgiven him again, two years later, for holding back the truth about her husband. By then, Walter had thought himself in love with her. He'd worked up his courage, proposed marriage, and been turned down. A short time afterward, he'd met Eleanor. The bitter truth, he now acknowledged, was that he'd wed Eleanor more because he believed he had no chance to win Susanna than because he preferred Eleanor.

Did he still want to wed Susanna? Walter could not be certain; Eleanor's betrayal had left a cold void in the place where his heart had once been.

"What do you plan to do about Dartnall?" Baldwin's demand for information jerked Walter's wandering thoughts back to the present.

"I will deal with him when the time is right. As for Northumberland, execution for treason will also serve as his punishment for ordering my wife's death. Listen well, merchant. I say again that you will help Susanna most by doing nothing. This rebellion will be put down within a few days. Once Suss.e.x musters his troops, they will attack the rebels and capture their leaders." Once and for all time, they would put an end to the threat to Queen Elizabeth's throne. "As soon as we have the conspirators in custody, Susanna can walk away."

Baldwin bit back a retort, but his skepticism was obvious.

"You are an enigma to me, Master Baldwin." Walter came at last to the real point of his visit. He did not like loose ends and this merchant dangled like a thick length of rope. "How is it you were able to trade in Persia without the sanction of the Muscovy Company? And keep your profits from being confiscated by the Crown when you returned home?"

"Have you wasted time investigating me when civil war is about to begin?"

"I like to know the nature of any man I am obliged to deal with. I wondered, too, who it was that told you someone at Leigh Abbey could be trusted in that business of the queen's gift. Susanna once let slip that she a.s.sumed I was the one who'd vouched for her, but I was unaware of your existence until she introduced us. For whom do you work, Master Baldwin?"

"Do you think I am an intelligence gatherer, too, Pendennis?" That seemed to amuse him. "I am what I seem. No more."

"How did you succeed in Persia, then? Those who came after you were unable to convince the Great Sophy to deal with them."

"They did not trouble to learn the local language and customs. The men who went back this year will have fared better, but their success or failure is of little importance to me. My only concern is Susanna's welfare."

Before Walter could press his inquiry, a familiar voice hailed them from the other side of the door. "Master Baldwin? Sir Walter? Are you within?"

Baldwin lost no time admitting Susanna's henchman. "Where is Lady Appleton?" he demanded.

"Why, at Topcliffe," Lionel answered. "Where else should she be?"

"She is well? Safe?"

"Oh, yes, Master Baldwin. Or at least she was yesterday afternoon when she sent me to Streatlam with a message for Sir Walter."

"Streatlam? Of all the-"

"It makes no difference," Walter interrupted.

"No difference? Topcliffe is only fifteen miles from York. Lionel went more than thirty miles in the wrong direction before turning back."

Walter ignored him. "Why did Lady Appleton send you to me, Lionel? Have you news?"

Every word Lionel spoke made it more plain he'd left Topcliffe before the uprising began and had no notion troops were gathering even now. He brought details of Topcliffe's defenses but seemed to know little else of value. "Lady Appleton said to tell you that the earls are not the ones who need watching," he said at the conclusion of his report. "She says their wives are far more likely leaders for any rebellion."

"Woman warriors? What nonsense!"

"Remember Boadicea," Baldwin said softly, referring to the ancient queen who'd defied Roman invaders of Britain.

"She was defeated."

"Isabella of Castile was not. She drove the Moors out of Spain. And the Jews. A good model for devout Catholics, some would say." Baldwin turned back to Lionel. "Does anyone at Topcliffe suspect Lady Appleton is not Lady Pendennis?"

"Oh, no, Master Baldwin. And they all like her there, too. She's been using her skill with herbs to treat the sick."

"Eleanor could never tell a poultice from an infusion." Walter was unsure if that was cause for concern or not.

"Northumberland's folk do not know that," Lionel pointed out.

"There is no ill will toward her? No one seems to resent the arrival of Lady Pendennis? No one was surprised to see her turn up alive and well?"

"No, Master Baldwin. And I've let nothing slip. I swear it! Not even when Mistress Standbridge cooed questions at me about Sir Walter."

Chapter 16.

The town consisted of one long street. Its church, town hall, and inn all had an air of decay about them and off to the west Susanna could just make out the ruins of a crumbling castle. "What is this place?" she asked, uncertain if they were still in Yorkshire or had pa.s.sed into Durham.