to you, especially when you’re so young and you’ve already gone through so much—’ She stopped dead, aware that she was revealing far too much about herself to someone who was practically a stranger, and an unsympathetic one at that.
Arthur let go of her hand. Still holding his gaze very deliberately, Lizzie flipped open the phone and dialled Dudley’s number. There was no reply.
‘He’s probably blocking me,’ she said, after she’d let it ring twenty times. ‘Dudley and I aren’t exactly on good terms at the moment.’ She shrugged, sliding the phone back into her pocket. Dudley’s tantrums were only an irritant compared to what Johnny might do in the extremity of his misery. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t help,’ she added. ‘I don’t really know what else to suggest.’
‘Thank you anyway,’ Arthur said. He looked suddenly tired. Lizzie had to repress the urge to reach out and offer comfort. Hell, she was in a mess.
‘Would you let me know when you find Johnny?’ she asked, a little awkwardly. ‘I’d like to know he’s safe.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Arthur said quietly. They stood for a moment longer in silence whilst the distant thud of the music made the floor vibrate and nearer at hand a drunken couple fell out of a doorway amidst shrieks of laughter.
‘Time to go,’ Lizzie said.
They went out into the London night. The rain had grown heavier, streaking the pavements and reflecting the streetlights in flat black puddles. It was almost two o’clock.
‘Can I give you a lift?’ Arthur asked.
‘That’s OK, thanks.’ Lizzie smiled at him, feeling less vulnerable now they were saying goodbye. ‘The doorman will call a taxi for me. Anyway, I imagine you’re keen to head off and look for Johnny, so…’
Arthur didn’t move. ‘One day soon,’ he said, ‘we’ll need to talk about this gift of yours and what it means for us.’
‘We could just ignore it,’ Lizzie said lightly.
‘I doubt very much that will happen,’ Arthur said. He raised a hand and she thought that for a fleeting moment he brushed the rain drops from her cheek, but perhaps she had imagined that. ‘Goodnight, Lizzie Kingdom,’ he said.
Lizzie watched him walk away, disregarding the water that was now running in rivulets down her neck. He didn’t turn to look back at her. The most disturbing thing was that when he vanished from sight down a side street, she felt bereft.
The ringing of her phone was a welcome distraction.
‘Lizzie.’ It was Dudley. He sounded as though he was crying again. There was noise in the background, the chink of glasses and a roar of voices. Not Mackenzie’s, then, but another nightclub somewhere nearby.
‘Lizzie, help me,’ Dudley said. ‘I can’t do this without you… I need you.’
‘Where are you?’ Lizzie said. She looked along the empty street; Arthur had gone. Nor, she realised, did she have his number. ‘Dudley,’ she said again, ‘where are you?’ Her first thought, her only thought, was to find him so she could ask him about Johnny.
‘I’m at the Lizard Lounge,’ Dudley said. ‘I need you to come and get me. Please Lizzie…’ His voice broke.
‘All right,’ Lizzie said. ‘I’m on my way.’
Chapter 10
Amy: Whitehall Palace, Summer 1552
Robert was insanely ambitious. I had always known it but never was it more apparent than in those summer days of 1552. The serious boy king had been ill that spring; he was a sickly youth whose permanently pallid air gave the impression that all life and vitality had long since drained from him and he was no more than a husk. He spent all his time at his books and writing his letters but it scarcely mattered. My father-in-law was the Duke of Northumberland now and he ruled the Kingdom. The Duke of Somerset had been executed for treason and the Dudleys had climbed so high it felt as though we were touching the stars.
That day there was to be a joust, one in a long procession of masques and tourneys I remember that year. The flower-bedecked pavilions, the ladies fluttering and gossiping, the press of the spectators, the blaze of heraldry, the stir of trumpets… I hated every last moment of it. Robert and his brothers were like so many flaunting peacocks amongst the crowd and I was supposed to smile until my face ached and applaud until my palms were sore.
‘How fine your husband looks!’ Lady Margaret Palmer gave me a sideways glance and an arch little smile. ‘All the women are hot for him.’ She leaned further out over