‘Hold hard, Lal,’ Timothy begged him. ‘It’s too late for regrets and I doubt there was more than one long-nosed interloper skulking about the Priory walls at that time of night. No offence, chapman, but you do have the habit of making other people’s business your own.’
‘None taken,’ I replied cheerfully and decided that for the moment I would say nothing of that other shadow I had seen. Master Arrowsmith was plainly in no condition at present to bear up under such a revelation and a twice-injured man, I felt, had the right to some consideration. I was longing to ask how he came by his double misfortune, but curbed my tongue, suspecting that all would be revealed in time.
‘My mother, Master Chapman.’ Matthew Wardroper was once more clamouring for my attention. ‘You say she was well?’
‘Indeed, yes,’ I smiled. ‘And it’s true what I was told. You are extremely like her in appearance.’
He seemed pleased with this and turned to his cousin. ‘I told you, Lal. It’s what everybody says.’
Lionel shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t remember, not having set eyes on Aunt Maud for so long.’ He was not to be cheered, still sunk deep in a mire of self-blame. I guessed him to be devoted to the Duke. But then, so were most of Prince Richard’s followers. He was a man who inspired love and affection in those privileged to know him intimately, although to those who did not, he could seem cold and withdrawn.
Timothy Plummer rose to his feet. ‘Matt,’ he said, addressing the younger man, ‘it’s time you returned to your duties. There’s nothing further you can do here. You did creditably tonight and I’ve no doubt His Grace will thank you personally in the morning. Now, off with you. I want a word with your cousin and the chapman.’
Matthew Wardroper’s face crumpled ludicrously. ‘But… but I thought I was to help, to take Lal’s place, now that he’s laid up with a broken ankle. You both agreed that you could trust me; that I’m the only member of the Duke’s household who joined it after you knew of the threat to His Grace’s life.’
Timothy clapped him consolingly on the shoulder. ‘Lad, that was before Roger Chapman providentially came poking and prying into our affairs. Look at him. He’s twice the size of you, great gawk that he is! There’s no reason for you to risk your neck when he’ll do it for you.’
I made no comment, accepting the spirit in which these words were uttered rather than jibbing at their content.
‘But… but I want to help!’ Matthew protested, almost crying.
‘And so you will do, lad,’ Timothy assured him, ‘by concealing your knowledge of the chapman’s true identity when he joins the ranks of the Duke’s servants tomorrow.’
‘Wait a moment, Master Plummer!’ I intervened, also standing up. ‘This is going too fast. I’ve agreed to nothing yet. And shall not, either, until I know more about what mischief is afoot, or what danger I may be involved in.’
‘There you are, you see!’ Matthew was triumphant. ‘You’d do much better to put your trust in me.’
‘Oh, go to bed, lad!’ Lionel said wearily, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. ‘Tim’s right, the chapman can make two of you, and if he’s trustworthy – which I’m certain he is if he’s known to His Grace – then I’d rather he ran any risks that might need to be taken instead of you. Aunt Maud and Uncle Cedric would never forgive me if harm befell their only chick. They’d be bound to hold me responsible.’
Timothy nodded. ‘And in any case it’s high time you were getting back to your dormitory. Your fellow Squires of the Household will be wondering where you are. Or the Duke may want you to sing to him. You have a fine voice. His Grace remarked on it only yesterday within my hearing.’
‘Ralph Boyse’s is finer. The Duke won’t need me if he’s around.’ Matthew looked sulky, rubbing the knuckles of one hand against the palm of the other like a small child seeking comfort. It struck me that he was a little younger in ways, and less spirited, than I had gathered from Millisent Shepherd’s description of him. Perhaps it was this slightly immature streak in his son’s nature that Sir Cedric found it hard to tolerate. Moreover, Matthew’s eager inquiries after his mother’s health suggested an even fonder closeness to Lady Wardroper than I had already imagined.
Lionel gave a short bark of laughter, in which I thought I could trace a tinge of resentment. ‘Ralph’s not on duty tonight, so he’ll be otherwise engaged.’
Matthew considered this for a moment before enlightenment apparently dawned. ‘You mean with Berys Hogan,’ he chuckled. He added more seriously, ‘I’m never sure which of you two it is she really cares for.’
‘Berys is betrothed to Ralph,’ Timothy said firmly. He frowned at Lionel. ‘You’d do well to watch your step there. You and she are both playing a dangerous game.’
Lionel shrugged, trying to appear indifferent, but a little colour stole into his pallid cheeks. ‘You’re an old woman, Timothy,’ he protested. ‘She and Ralph have a pact that as long as they’re unwed they’ll not interfere too much with one another’s pleasures.’
Timothy Plummer, insulted by the epithet applied to him, retorted angrily, ‘Berys told you that no doubt! And you believed her? Well, more fool you, that’s all I have to say. But then, you proved yourself a deal too simple and trusting last night, Lal, didn’t you?’
‘Friends! Friends!’ I exclaimed hurriedly, laying my hands on a shoulder of each. ‘Don’t, for God’s sake, turn on one another at such a time as this. If Duke Richard really is in danger, he needs you to work together.’
Both men looked shamefaced.
‘Aye, that’s true enough,’ Timothy Plummer admitted. ‘The last thing we must do is squabble among ourselves. Forgive me, Lal. It was only concern for you that made me speak as I did. Ralph Boyse can turn ugly on occasions. I’ve seen it.’
Lionel was quick to accept the apology. ‘I’m sorry, too, for what I said. I didn’t mean it.’
‘Then that’s the end of that.’ Timothy snapped his fingers with relief. ‘Now, we’ve much to discuss with the chapman, so Matt, for the last time, be off with you! And on your way back to the dormitory, get one of those idle pages to run to the buttery and bring up some wine to us here. A good malmsey, tell him. None of that inferior stuff from Crete. That’s only fit for the lower servants.’ Matthew departed unwillingly, dragging his feet, but at last the tower door shut behind him. Timothy waved me back to my stool and drew up one of his own. ‘Right!’ he continued. ‘Make yourself comfortable and let me explain.’
It seemed that in the two years (or almost two years) since I had last seen Timothy Plummer he had risen to become chief Spy-Master in the Duke of Gloucester’s household. This, I gathered, was a position undefined and unacknowledged in the ducal rolls, but one, none the less, of very great importance, as everybody of any moment employed agents to spy on one another.
‘For instance,’ Timothy said, drawing his stool closer to mine and lowering his voice a trifle, ‘I know for certain that Stephen Hudelin, Yeoman of the Chamber, is a spy for Lord Rivers, the Queen’s eldest brother. And through him, probably for the whole Woodville clan. I am almost equally sure that Humphrey Nanfan, also a Yeoman of the Chamber, works for my lord of Clarence, while Geoffrey Whitelock, Squire of the Household, is in the pay of the King.’
‘Wait!’ I protested. ‘Wait! Are you asking me to believe that both King Edward and the Duke of Clarence set spies about their own brother?’
Timothy glanced at Lionel Arrowsmith with a resigned shrug of his shoulders before turning back to me. ‘Chapman, can you really believe that anyone at court truly trusts anybody else? If so, you must be very simple-minded.’