The thinly veiled hint had prompted him to seek out Meg Black that evening and sort out an immediate resolution of the ‘Walter’ problem. He’d discussed, in a slightly edited form, the continuing need for ‘strong’ precautions. For once the apprentice apothecary agreed with only a brief argument. That signal occurrence had his daemon momentarily suspicious, but Ned had shrugged it off. Even Mistress Black had to admit life in an imperfect world required unusual remedies. For instance his solution had been to find some comely ‘intelligent’ blonde lass, with an impeccable reputation for reform, from a modest background. Then introduce her to Lady Dellingham as a suitable helpmate for Walter. Despite some frowning disapproval and barbed comments on his bizarre interpretation of religious script, Meg Black had grudgingly gone along with his plan.
Even Walter had mostly complied, especially when he’d been told that fair Rosemund, his ‘intended’, now controlled the sums he’d lodged around the city. Well at least the rump of thirty nine pounds, eight shilling and four pence after expenses, still a hefty dowry for any girl. As far as Ned was concerned a lad of Walter’s peculiar disposition and cunning, required an extra leash, apart from pretty eyes and a firm rounded pair of breasts. Memories of the smooth white skin he’d recently seen had him shift a suddenly tight and uncomfortable cod piece.
All in all, this frantic traipsing through the Liberties of London had turned out rather well. Walter had been ‘persuaded’ that to assuage his imperilled soul, a truly reformed Christian would cough up suitable recompense in coin, which Ned and Meg held in trust. And as a final precaution, Ned had requested that Walter supply the names of his dubious agents and informers. That last one had been a real tussle with demons. Walter had prevaricated and sniffled falsehoods until Ned unveiled his last trump card — an evening with the fair Rosemund. That temptation had outweighed all the others, and as Ned assured Rob, he wasn’t acting as a whoremaster or ruining the reputation of a modest girl. Instead it should be considered as a very legal and binding prenuptial contract, witnessed by thirty members of the Inns of Chancery. In the labyrinthine vagaries of marriage law, in which His Majesty the King was currently entangled, you couldn’t have more certainty unless the bedding was witnessed by three Lords and several Bishops.
This grudgingly revealed information though, caused its own concerns. Earless Nick’s luring of Walter was some months old. The self proclaimed Master of Masterless men had spent a considerable amount of time first courting, then tempting and training Walter. Ned was forced to question, why so much effort? Was the return really worth the investment, or did Nick Throckmore move at another’s behest as he may have hinted? Ned put that from his present thoughts. This was the Christmas season. For at least a week he’d like a break from the rigours of treachery, betrayal and the conspiring of the Court.
There was also one minor but urgent detail to arrange on the morrow. He had to give Joseph, the tavern pot boy, three shillings. The lad had played his part well, though until Walter’s vessel actually sailed, it would be prudent to line up several more ‘agents’ for his reluctant charge to bribe. Ned had some dozen rasps and files at hand, and the coin made useful wagering in his card games with Walter. Now if only Lady Fortuna would grant him similar luck with Mistress Black. Ned gave another sigh and settled into the warm bed and smiled. There was still all winter to pursue that quarry. After all, she had to give up on revenge sometime…didn’t she?