I opened my eyes and stared up at the richly carved, red and gold ceiling above me. Light flooded in through spacious, lofty windows, one an oriel window of peculiar size and beauty. I could also see a minstrel’s gallery and the floor beneath my trailing hand was marble. For a moment, I wondered if I had died and gone straight to heaven, until conscience told me that such a contingency was highly unlikely. After that common sense reasserted itself and I realized that not only was I still very much alive, but also that I knew this place. I had been here before.
I was lying on a velvet day-bed. Somewhere behind me, a door opened and closed.
‘Well, well, well!’ said a familiar voice, and a hand was placed on my forehead. ‘Drunk again, eh, Roger? And not long gone noon.’
I sat up with such violence that the room spun around me and I was forced to lie down again in a hurry. But at least now I knew where I was — in the great hall of Crosby’s Place — and I knew who was speaking, although I hadn’t expected him to be in London yet awhile.
‘You know damn well I’m not drunk, Timothy,’ I snapped. ‘Even you can’t be such a fool as to believe that.’
He came closer, where I could see him, pulled up a low, velvet-covered stool and sat down beside the couch.
‘There’s the smell of ale on your breath,’ he said, ‘but I must admit I’ve never seen you drunk in the middle of the day.’
‘Nor at any other time,’ I declared. ‘I can carry my ale as well as the next man. I’ve been ill this past week and only got up from my sick-bed yesterday. What happened? How do I come to be in Crosby’s Place?’
‘One of the workmen, unloading the duke’s furniture, caught you as you fell out of the saddle. And by the way, that sorry piece of horseflesh you were riding has been put in the stable here for the time being. I’ve sent for some decent wine. It should settle your guts and make you feel better. Now, when you feel able, sit up carefully and then you can tell me what you’re doing in London.’
‘And you can tell me what you’re doing in London,’ I retorted. ‘I thought you’d be with the duke — wherever he is.’
At that moment, a serving-man arrived with the wine and two Venetian glass goblets on a silver tray which, having dragged over a beautifully carved small table with his free hand, he placed at Timothy’s elbow. By the time he departed as noiselessly as he came, I had once more pulled myself into a sitting position, but with greater caution than before. The room stayed steady. The nausea had gone.
I breathed a sigh of relief and nodded towards the goblets. ‘Doing yourself proud while His Grace is still absent, eh? Which reminds me, I heard he wasn’t coming here until the duchess arrives. Going to his mother’s at Baynard’s Castle was my information.’
A shade of annoyance crossed Timothy’s face. ‘Now, how by the Holy Mother do you know that? It’s not supposed to be common knowledge.’
I grinned. ‘Dear God, how old are you, Timothy? Don’t you know by now that the man in the street always gets the news before the man in the council chamber? So it’s true. But what in Jesu’s name is going on? Earl Rivers arrested! Sir Richard Grey as well! And what’s happened to the king? The whole city’s buzzing with the news. And, as I said just now, why are you here in advance of the duke?’
He handed me a brimming goblet and filled one for himself, sipping the golden liquid with relish, in contrast to myself, who had emptied half the glass in one go.
He winced, eyeing me up and down. ‘You never did have any appreciation of good wine, Roger. So! You want to know what I’m doing here. Very well! But first tell me why you’re in London, less than six months after you vowed never to return if you could possibly help it.’
Once again I repeated my story, but with variations. I wasn’t stupid enough to tell Timothy Plummer, of all people, the real reason for my being in the capital. In this version, Adela and the children had come on a visit to her relations and I had arrived simply to escort them home. The rest of the tale I was open and honest about, feeling sure that Timothy would have no interest in the plight of the Godsloves. And I was right. He had too much else on his mind.
He was silent for at least a minute after I had finished, staring at me speculatively over the rim of his goblet, which he finally replaced carefully on the tray. Then he leant forward, his elbows propped on his knees.
‘Well,’ he said at last, ‘there’s no reason why I shouldn’t tell you the truth. In any case, the reason behind the arrests will have to be made public sooner or later. And it may be providential that you’re in London, Roger. I might have need of your services.’
‘Oh no you won’t!’ I spluttered, showering both myself and Timothy with spittle. ‘You’re not playing that game again. I’ve had enough of that, and so I told you last autumn. I’ve done obliging you and the duke. Most of last year away from home! First Scotland, then France! This time you can find someone else to do your dirty work.’
‘Just hold your tongue and listen, will you?’ he demanded savagely, wiping his face in his sleeve. He relieved me of my goblet and placed it beside his own. ‘The duke is in danger, Roger. Serious danger. The Woodvilles are out to make trouble and this city is a hotbed of intrigue. That’s why I’ve come on ahead, to spy out the land and see if I can find out exactly what’s going on. I rode with the messengers sent yesterday. We got here at midnight and I haven’t been to bed since. I’m telling you this so that you won’t try my temper too far. I’m dog tired and I’m worried as I’ve rarely been worried in my life before.’
I lay back against the pillows of the day-bed. I could see that he was rattled. ‘All right,’ I said. ‘Tell me what went on at Northampton. I promise I won’t interrupt. If I’ve any questions, I’ll keep them to the end.’
He took a deep breath and nodded. ‘Very well, then. Here’s what happened. The arrangement was that the duke, en route from York, and the king’s party, coming across country from Ludlow, should rendezvous at Northampton. That was clearly understood from the messages sent and received. But when we reached Northampton early on Tuesday afternoon, there was no sign of the king or his entourage. At first, the duke assumed they’d been delayed on the road, but then, to his utter astonishment, he discovered that the royal troops, with Rivers and Grey at their head, had passed through the town that morning, but had ridden straight on, heading south, towards London.
‘I’ve never, in all the years that I’ve known him, seen the duke so angry. John Kendall — you know, his secretary — told me that at one point he was literally shaking with rage. But I fancy there was an element of fear in it, too. He’s been jumpy ever since he got news of the late king’s death. But then, midway through the afternoon, Earl Rivers appeared, attended by a small number of his immediate circle, as pleasant as you please, full of smiles and apologies. The king had thought Northampton not big enough to house both his retinue and his uncle’s, so had ridden on to Stony Stratford, where he would wait until the duke caught up with him yesterday morning.’
Timothy sniffed. ‘Well, the story had an odd ring to it, Northampton being not exactly short of inns and with plenty of open fields around it for the troops to camp in. And Stony Stratford is a much smaller place. But the duke chose to accept it, calmed down and invited Earl Rivers to take supper with him. However, the meal had hardly begun when the streets were suddenly filled with all the clatter and bustle of someone arriving. And someone damned important by the sound of it. I was having my meal in an alehouse a little way down the street, but I sent one of my lads’ — presumably Timothy meant one of his fellow spies — ‘to find out what the commotion was all about and when he came back he said that the Duke of Buckingham had just turned up with a following several hundreds strong, and had joined Duke Richard and Earl Rivers for supper at the duke’s inn.’