Read Online The Tudor Conspiracy by C. W. Gortner - Free Book Online Page A

He has a wound on his forelock; he must have been nicked by a stone on the road. Anyway, I was salving it when she walked in with a nobleman. They were laughing. He called for a groom to take his horse, and I volunteered to take it. She recognized me but pretended not to. When the lord left-she kept calling him ‘sweet cousin’-she spoke to me. She was not pleased. She said we should not have come to court without her leave.”
    Relief washed over me. That sounded like her. “Of course she’d say that, but at least now she knows we’re here. Did she say anything else?”
    “No, the lord was waiting for her outside. She said she had a headache from his endless chatter and was going to nap before she changed for the queen’s feast. Oh, and she told me to take care of Urian, seeing as I stole him away.”
    It was a message: She wanted me to know she’d be in the hall tonight. The “sweet cousin” she had been with was Courtenay. I had just missed him. A few minutes earlier and I might have had the chance to gauge this man whose relationship with Elizabeth was starting to cause me grave concern.
    “What was the nobleman like?” I asked.
    Peregrine blew air out the side of his mouth. “Rude, like most of his ilk. He didn’t tip me for taking his horse, though grooms survive on tips. And he looked at me as if I was going to steal something when Her Grace said she wanted a word with me about her dog.”
    I felt a prickle of alarm. Courtenay sounded mistrustful, not an encouraging sign.
    “You did well,” I said. “Now she knows we’re here and won’t be surprised if she sees me. But I want you to stay away from this Courtenay fellow. I don’t like the sound of him.”
    Peregrine nodded. I went to the coffer, taking out my new vermilion doublet and the wrapped cloth protecting my shoulder chain. As I unfolded the cloth, exposing the thick gilded links, Peregrine whistled. “Nice! That must have cost a few angels.”
    “Don’t get too excited. It’s fake. I brought you a new jerkin and sleeves, too.”
    “But not of velvet. I wager I don’t have a chain to go with it, either.”
    I laughed. “What a squire you’re turning out to be!” I clapped him on the back. “Let’s use wash water and soap. Tonight, we will feast with the court, my friend.”
    I made sure not to watch as he hand washed himself, concentrating on my own necessities until I heard him make an annoyed sound. I turned to find him standing stiff in his new garb, his unruly hair oiled and tamed to damp ringlets that fell to his shoulders, the green wool of the jerkin bringing out the emerald hue in his eyes.
    “You clean up nicely,” I remarked.
    He scowled. “It itches. It feels like I have fleas.”
    “Well, you were in the stables all morning.” I turned back to my small hand mirror, which I’d propped on the stool. As I adjusted the linked chain about my shoulders, I remembered my weapon. I was sheathing my poniard in my boot when Peregrine said suddenly, “Are we in danger, too?”
    I paused.
    “If you would just tell me what is happening, I might be able to help-”
    I held up my hand. “You promised, remember? No questions.” My tone softened. “I just need to speak to Her Grace in private. It may be that I’ll need your help.”
    His face brightened, as I knew it would. I turned to my bag and removed quill, ink, and paper. Ripping off a section of paper, I wrote quickly.
    The stables. Tomorrow at midday.
    I didn’t dare write more, in case my note should fall into the wrong hands. I folded the ripped paper into a small square that fit in my palm and slipped it into my doublet before turning to Peregrine. “Do you want me to deliver it?” he asked eagerly.
    “We’ll see,” I said. “First, let’s find out what this night has in store. Come. We don’t want to be late for our first big event at court.”
    * * *
    The cavernous great hall was large and surprisingly warm, boasting two enormous hearths fashioned of