Read Online Queen's Ransom by Fiona Buckley - Free Book Online

gentleman should and his unshadowed face was sharp and cold. So were his eyes. They were disconcerting, both indeterminate in color, but not a match. One of them tended toward brown and the other toward blue, and they held a chill that made me uneasy. He gave me the same feeling as Robin Dudley. Here was a man of whom one should be wary.
    “I call this behavior
very
extreme!” I said vehemently, and let my voice carry, in the hope that some of my own companions would hear it. I was trembling, but now it was partly with anger. I rounded on Charpentier. “And foolish! May I remind you that I am traveling not only with my father-in-law but also with an escort of eight men? If I were to vanish, do you think that nobody would notice?”
    My captors had slackened their hold and I shook myself free of them. As I did so, the contents of my hidden pocket bumped against my knee, and I heard, faintly, the clink of the lock picks and the rustle of Elizabeth’s letters. It was not the moment, though, for bringing out the letter of introduction to Queen Catherine. Elizabeth had confidence in the status of her messengers but these people might well see her only as a heretic queen, and the letters as somehow proof that I was a spy. Elizabeth knew that France was dangerous, I thought grimly, but she had no idea just how dangerous.
    Anyway, I had a champion, even though he was in his way nearly as alarming as Charpentier.
    “The lady has a point,” the stranger was saying. “We have the reputation of France to consider. If Madam were to disappear, her friends might take home a sorry impression of us.” He bowed to me formally. “Seigneur Gaston de Clairpont, at your service. I regret this incident, madam, but I should say that it is not advisable to ask after Seigneur Matthew de la Roche, not in an English voice. I take it, Charpentier, that you did not answer her questions?”
    “I only wished to hear that a former acquaintance was in good health,” I expostulated.
    “He is in perfectly good health, and will, I trust, remain so,” said De Clairpont. “Let her go, Charpentier. I hope you are not hurt, madam?”
    “Fortunately, no,” I said. I was going to have a badly bruised upper arm but it wasn’t worth remarking on. “I and the rest of my party,” I said with emphasis to Charpentier, “will be glad to take bread and soup on the tables outside, as soon as it is ready.” Then, holding my head high, I walked out. No one tried to stop me. De Clairpont bowed again as I passed. I inclined my head to him graciously. On shaking legs I made my way back along the stone passage and met the Dodds and John Ryder hurrying toward me.
    “We heard your voice. You sounded alarmed,” Ryder said.
    “I was. I hoped someone would hear. You’re a reassuring sight, all three of you. Come back upstairs and I’ll explain.”
    We went up to my room. There, with Brockley and Dale to swell the outraged audience, I described what had happened.
    “I never heard of such a thing,” Dale gasped. “Innkeepers threatening their guests—attacking a lady! What sort of a country is this?”
    “Charpentier had better be careful,” said young Walter Dodd. “If he takes to slaughtering his guests in the kitchen, people will wonder what he puts in his casseroles.”
    Everyone laughed except Dale, who snapped: “That’s disgusting!”
    “The Seigneur de Clairpont said much the same thing,” I said to her. “I just hope it impressed Charpentier!”
    “This Matthew de la Roche,” Ryder said. “You say he’s an acquaintance of yours. Perhaps I should tell you that we do know that he is your estranged husband. Sir William Cecil told us. I knew before, anyway. I have known Sir William since he was a boy, Mistress Blanchard. My mother was maid to his mother. I can remember clipping Sir William Cecil’s ear for him once or twice, when he was a lad!” He laughed. “It was natural enough for you to ask after him. Why shouldn’t