Heartstone

'That is correct, madam.'

'He said he required as magistrate—required, oh, he loves that word—to know the whereabouts of my son, given his former—connection—to Mistress Ellen Fettiplace. Well, that is easily enough answered. Philip is at Portsmouth, preparing to defend England. Buttress said you wanted him questioned.' She paused for breath. 'Well, sir, what have you to say? What is this old matter to do with you?'

I answered quietly, 'I can tell you only what I told Master Buttress. I have been making enquiries on behalf of a client about the Fettiplace family. I visited the foundry with old Goodman Harrydance yesterday, and we found the body. I am sorry to cause inconvenience, but clearly the discovery in the pond must be investigated. Your son is one of those who must be part of that. I only wish to see justice done, to see the relevant people are called.'

'Why are you in Sussex?'

'A legal case in Hampshire. I am staying at a house some miles north of Portsmouth. Hoyland Priory. I am engaged on a Court of Wards matter there.' I judged it best not to tell this woman my normal work was at the Court of Requests. Her face relaxed a little. I said, 'Master Seckford told me your son came out on the day of the fire to ask Master Fettiplace's approval of a marriage to his daughter.'

'That girl,' Mistress West said bitterly. 'She was below our station, Philip should never have involved himself with her. She went mad after the fire—she was taken away. Will you have an official part in the investigation?' she asked suddenly.

'I am involved now, as a finder of the body.' I looked closely at Mistress West. Was it her who had arranged Ellen's abduction?

Suddenly she seemed to wilt. 'We thought it was all done, but now—a murder, and my son to be questioned.'

'I want to see the truth found, madam. That is all.'

She stared at me, long and hard, then seemed to reach a decision. 'Then there is something I should tell you. It must come out, and I would rather tell you first than Buttress. You may understand, Master Shardlake, that in small towns there is often rivalry between those of good old birth like my family and men like him.'

'Having met him, I can imagine he is—difficult.'

'If I were to tell you something that showed my son did not meet Mistress Fettiplace on that day, perhaps Philip would not have to be called to the inquest.'

'Possibly.'

'He would not want to reveal it, even now. But I must do what I can to protect him. He should have told them at the first inquest. Though we all thought it was an accident then.' She began wringing her hands and I realized she was a frightened woman, on the edge of panic. She looked at me again, then composed herself and began speaking rapidly.

'Nineteen years ago, my son was twenty-two. For his age he had risen high. Two years before, my late husband and I had found him a place in the King's household, working for his majesty's Master of Hunt. We were well pleased.' Her face relaxed into a fond smile for a moment. 'You should have seen Philip then. A fine, strong boy, carefree, devoted to manly pursuits. Those were the last of the old days, sir, when everything in England seemed settled and secure. The King had been married to Queen Catherine of Aragon near twenty years, happily we thought, though they had no son. We did not know he had already set his eyes on Anne Boleyn.'

'I remember it well.'

'My son, as I said, helped organize the King's hunts. I am told he can scarce walk now, but in those days he was always hunting. Philip caught the King's eye, he favoured young men who shared his taste for sport. By 1526 he was in the outer circle of the King's boon companions and sometimes he would be asked to join the King at games of dice and cards.' She spoke with pride, then added in a heavier tone, 'And sometimes, the King would use Philip as a messenger, to deliver private letters. He had come to trust my son greatly. Letters to—' Mistress West set her lips in a tight line—'to Anne Boleyn.'

I remembered Anne Boleyn's execution that Lord Cromwell had insisted I attend; her head flying out when severed from the body, the jets of blood. I closed my eyes for a moment. Strange I had not recalled that when I saw Lady Elizabeth, her daughter.

Mistress West sighed. 'It does not matter now, Catherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn are both long dead, but by heaven it mattered then. In 1526 no one outside the court had even heard of Anne Boleyn. The King had had mistresses before, but Anne Boleyn insisted he divorce Catherine and marry her. You know the story. She promised him a son.' Mistress West laughed bitterly. I thought, but she only gave him Elizabeth. I remembered the little girl looking keenly up at me as she questioned me about lawyers.

'Well, in 1526 the King went on one of his hunting Progresses to the royal parks in Sussex. Queen Catherine was with him, as was Philip. Anne Boleyn was at her family home in Kent. But the King wrote to her regularly, and Philip was one of the trusted messengers he used. What those letters said, how far matters had gone by then, I do not know and nor did Philip. But Queen Catherine was worried—'

'As early as that? I had not known—'

'Oh, Queen Catherine always had her spies.'

Mistress West began walking restlessly around the room, her skirt swishing on the rush-strewn boards.

'The court was at Petworth Castle in Sussex that August, over twenty miles from here. You should understand, Master Shardlake, my son's position meant he spent much of his time in London; he could only visit Rolfswood occasionally. There were often gaps of many weeks between his visits to Ellen Fettiplace. I think now, if he had seen more of her, he would have realized how unsuitable she was for a bride.'

'You did not like her.'

'I did not,' she answered vigorously. 'Her father had allowed her too much independence, she would blow hot and cold with my son. But her impertinence just made him more lovelorn.' She gave a bitter laugh. 'Just as the King was with that false, faithless Boleyn creature, and look how that ended.' She continued sadly, 'And there was something wild, unstable in Ellen's nature already. She was not one to be crossed.'

'What do you mean?'

'There are things I know.'

I frowned, remembering what Philip West had told me about setting fires.

'Philip had written to tell us he planned to propose to Ellen Fettiplace, and had obtained leave from the Master of Hunt to visit us. Then, just before he left, the King himself called for him. He asked that after Philip came here he take a letter over to Hever. A letter with the King's own seal.'

'Did the King know of your son's planned proposal?'

'Yes. That was why he allowed Philip to come here first.' Mistress West came over and looked at me. I wished she would sit. 'But when Philip rode from Petworth to Hampshire, Master Shardlake, he was not alone.' Her voice shook slightly. 'He had a friend at the court, a young lawyer, who asked if he could come with my son for the ride and his company. He was going on to Hampshire.'

I felt a catch in my throat. So there had been two of them. They were so strong. I could not move! It was an effort to keep my voice even. 'Who was the friend?' I asked.

Mistress West looked at me, and now there was a sort of desperate appeal in her eyes. 'That is the difficulty, sir. I do not know.'

'But if Philip came to stay with you—'

'Let me tell you how it happened. Philip's letter came by fast messenger from Petworth, saying he would be with us the following day. Because he had to go on afterwards to deliver the King's message—we did not know to whom, then—he could only stay here one night. He planned to ride straight to the Fettiplace house that afternoon and speak to William Fettiplace. If he agreed to the marriage, Philip would propose to Ellen that day.' I thought, that is not quite what Philip said, he spoke of asking for Master Fettiplace's approval and seeing Ellen later.