by her prolonged stay at Chelsey. As I sat lost in these thoughts, the door opened once more to admit Elizabeth, with thunder on her face. I struggled to stand, but sank back onto the bench at her furious gesture.
“Cecil told me that he had placed you under arrest,” she said, coming straight to the point. “He knows not that your banishment was at your own request, and so needed no such histrionics to conclude it; only you and I know that, my lord. So I ask you, whose plot did you foil?” I knew that without proof she would neither welcome nor believe that it was her darling Essex, and proof I had none, only the drunken ramblings of a dissolute and rakehelly boy. I shrugged slightly.
“It was only luck, your Majesty, luck and curiosity, having never before seen a moonlight hunt,” I countered.
“I saw the moonlight on a raised pistol, cousin,” she said. “Someone shot at me.”
“Or at me,” I countered, and refused to add or admit anything further. Elizabeth’s painted brows drew together in a scowl, and she motioned me to leave her.
The next evening I awakened to the news that I had been summoned to council that morning. Sylvana had sent the messenger off with a flea in his ear, saying that the master was wounded, and she was not about to wake him from a healing sleep to go riding off in the sleet and bitter weather for a matter that could just as well be handled by letter. She had stood there then, arms folded, not budging until they had left. I shook my head ruefully, but with no little admiration for the woman. Sylvie came in as Jehan was dressing me, to say that another visitor had arrived, a little humpbacked man who had identified himself only as Cecil. I resigned myself to an unpleasant evening, and went to greet my guest.
The little man was standing near the fire, staring into the flames as though reading an oracle. He spoke without turning as soon as I entered the room.
“I have spoken with her Majesty, and she assures me that this—accident—was no plan or plot of yours, though how she reached this credulous conclusion she would not say. I do not agree that your part in this is entirely innocent,” he paused, turning a piercing glance on me. “Until I am so assured, I would like you to do a bit of work for me, to prove your good intent towards her Majesty.” I made no sign, but stood still in the shadows by the door. After a time Cecil continued. “The Earl of Essex and his friends are .. . less than trustworthy, being to a man ambitious, harebrained, and up to the eyebrows in debt. Essex, in particular, overrates his abilities; it will be only a matter of time before his hubris leads him to disaster. I would contain that disaster as much as possible, therefore—”
“You wish me to spy upon him and his friends, and report to you,” I interrupted, my voice thick with disgust. Half-remembered days with the Walsingham ring, and the Babington plot paraded hazy images through my brain, and my gorge rose at the suddenly clear memory of Babington’s protracted execution, at the thought that however remotely, I had helped to bring it about. There was a knock at the door, which opened at once to admit Ralegh. His bright blue gaze swept the room, assessing the situation immediately and accurately. He sketched a bow to Cecil, a sardonic smile curling his lips.
“Lord Robert,” he said, enjoying the discomfited expression seen so seldom on Cecil’s face.
“Sir Walter,” he answered, then turned again to me. “Consider well the matter of which we spoke, your grace, and we will conclude it at another time.” He stalked from the room.
“Well-a-day, Kit! So that crooked little man takes a dislike to you yet again, does he? My guess would be that he wants you to spy for him. The Fantasticals, presumably? He’d do better to lure one of them into spying on the others for the payment of his debts. My kinsman Gorges does leap to mind, or that that jackanapes Mericke. However I am not come to teach Cecil his business, but to tell you what I found upon my examination of the slain horse.”
He took a seat by the fire, and waited patiently while food and wine were brought in. When we were again alone he continued, handing me a