As I went down the back stairs, perhaps for the last time, I realised unexpectedly that I would miss them all. And I would miss Hector. And I would miss the excitement of deciphering an unknown intercepted letter or a report smuggled out of Paris. Was Gifford still there, spying on the Duke of Guise? With an angry shake of my head, I dismissed these thoughts. I was well rid of them all.
As I came out into Seething Lane, where the first flurries of snow were beginning to drift in on the east wind, I was surprised to see Simon, standing in a doorway, stamping his feet and swinging his arms for warmth..
‘Simon? What are you doing here?’
‘I called at your house and Joan said Sir Francis had sent for you. Are you going to work for him again?’
‘He wanted me to, but I refused.’
Simon let out his breath in a puff of misty air and grinned. ‘You refused the Lord Secretary?’
‘Yes. Yes, I did.’
I still felt a little light-headed about it, but my heart gave a leap for pure joy. I was free! Free, above all, of Robert Poley.
He gave a soft whistle. ‘I’m not sure I would have dared.’
‘I wasn’t sure I would, until I did it.’ I gulped, and grinned back, somewhat shakily. ‘But I am done with secrets and play-acting.’
We both laughed.
‘By Jesu,’ he said. ‘It’s cold out here. And this snow is going down my neck.’
He linked his arm in mine. ‘Is there an inn near here where we can have a tankard of Hippocras and a warm by the fire? I’ve been standing there half an hour.’
This was an exaggeration, for I had not been with Sir Francis for half an hour.
‘This way,’ I said. ‘It’s small, but they also serve very good pies.’
We began to make our way along the street, holding each other up as we slithered on the icy cobbles.
‘Oh, have you heard?’ Simon said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the Tower.
‘You know how Guy always has the latest gossip? He came to the playhouse today, full of news about someone you know.’
I stopped dead and turned towards him. A great gust of wind flung a cloud of frozen snow in my face, like a fistful of bitter sand.
‘What? Who?’
‘You remember – there was one man escaped out of the bloody conspiracy to murder the Queen? No one knew, yea or nay, whether he was a villain or not?’
‘Who?’ I said it again, though my voice was whipped away on the wind. My heart had stopped in my chest.
‘Robert Poley. He’s to be set free from the Tower.’
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THE AUTHOR
Ann Swinfen spent her childhood partly in England and partly on the east coast of America. She read Classics and Mathematics at Oxford, where she married a fellow undergraduate, the historian David Swinfen. While bringing up their five children and studying for an MSc in Mathematics and a BA and PhD in English Literature, she had a variety of jobs, including university lecturer, translator, freelance journalist and software designer. She served for nine years on the governing council of the Open University and for five years worked as a manager and editor in the technical author division of an international computer company, but gave up her full-time job to concentrate on her writing, while continuing part-time university teaching. In 1995 she founded Dundee Book Events, a voluntary organisation promoting books and authors to the general public.
Her first three novels, The Anniversary, The Travellers, and A Running Tide, all with a contemporary setting but also historical resonance, were published by Random House, with translations into Dutch and German. Her fourth novel, The Testament of Mariam, marked something of a departure. Set in the first century, it recounts, from an unusual perspective, one of the most famous and yet ambiguous stories in human history. At the same time it explores life under a foreign occupying force, in lands still torn by conflict to this day. Her latest novel, Flood, is set in the fenlands of East Anglia during the seventeenth century, where the local people fight desperately to save their land from greedy and unscrupulous speculators.
The Secret World of Christoval Alvarez is the first book in a series featuring Kit Alvarez and Walsingham’s secret service.
She now lives on the northeast coast of Scotland, with her husband (formerly vice-principal of the University of Dundee), a cocker spaniel and two Maine Coon cats.
www.annswinfen.com
More by This Author
The Anniversary
The Travellers
A Running Tide
The Testament of Mariam
Flood
Praise for Ann Swinfen’s Novels:
‘an absorbing and intricate tapestry of family history and private memories … warm, generous, healing and hopeful’
Victoria Glendinning
‘I very much admired the pace of the story. The changes of place and time and the echoes and repetitions – things lost and found, and meetings and partings’
Penelope Fitzgerald
‘I enjoyed this serious, scrupulous novel … a novel of character … [and] a suspense story in which present and past mysteries are gradually explained’
Jessica Mann, Sunday Telegraph
‘The author … has written a powerful new tale of passion and heartbreak ... What a marvellous storyteller Ann Swinfen is – she has a wonderful ear for dialogue and she brings her characters vividly to life.’
Publishing News
‘Her writing …[paints] an amazingly detailed and vibrant picture of flesh and blood human beings, not only the symbols many of them have become…but real and believable and understandable.’
Helen Brown, Courier and Advertiser
‘She writes with passion and the book, her fourth, is shot through with brilliant description and scholarship...[it] is a timely reminder of the harsh realities, and the daily humiliations, of the Roman occupation of First Century Israel. You can almost smell the dust and blood.’
Peter Rhodes, Express and Star