Tombland

‘Yes,’ she said. She smiled wryly. ‘That horse has been a headache. Missing his master, kicking the doors of his stable. Daniel has managed to feed him, but I fear he takes his life in his hands.’

‘He’s coming to accept me,’ Chawry said.

I took the two of them through what would happen tomorrow; Chawry readily agreed to give evidence for his master, though we both knew it would count for little. Then we left them to cross the market square together to visit Boleyn, Chawry carrying another parcel of food which Isabella had made up. Nicholas and I walked slowly back to Tombland.

‘You think she will make a good impression?’ he asked.

‘Yes, she is no fool. Quite a remarkable woman, considering she was once only a barmaid, and must have no education.’

‘How old is she, do you think?’

‘A good bit younger than Boleyn, around thirty perhaps.’

‘She looks younger than that.’

‘Too old for you, Nick lad,’ I said, taking refuge in banter – although, in truth, Isabella Boleyn had made an impression on me as well. ‘Besides, I thought you preferred demure women like Beatrice Kenzy.’

‘Too young for you, also,’ Nicholas said, with a smile.

‘And,’ I added sombrely, ‘she is still a possible suspect. As is Chawry.’

‘I caught Chawry looking at her,’ Nicholas said. ‘I think he likes her, too.’

‘Recent events will have driven them closer. But she is devoted to John Boleyn, you can see.’ I sighed. ‘It is strange, we have spent the last week talking about John Boleyn, his sons, his servants and neighbours, and somehow in it all, Edith gets forgotten. Yet she suffered more than anybody, and met that terrible, hideous end.’

‘She is somehow – elusive,’ Nicholas said thoughtfully.

‘Yes. Nobody seems ever to have thought to ask why she behaved as she did. If we could find that out, perhaps we might have the answer to the case.’

He took a deep breath, and said, ‘Is Boleyn innocent?’

I looked at him. ‘Frankly, I do not know. But from all we have found out so far there has to be reasonable doubt.’

We crossed the marketplace. Behind us, the castle loomed over the city like a gigantic sentinel.

Chapter Twenty-seven

To my surprise I slept well that night. I woke, as often on the morning of important cases, with questions buzzing in my head. If John Boleyn had not killed his wife, who had? I had no clear idea of a suspect, certainly none with a rational motive – or indeed, an irrational one. The twins seemed to have a cast-iron alibi, and Gerald’s furious rage over the suggestion two nights before that they had killed their mother had seemed genuine.

I descended the staircase to the dining chamber, dressed in my serjeant’s robe and coif, without any of the excited animation I often felt on the first morning of a civil case. Here a life was at stake, and our chances not strong. I had the application for a pardon in my pocket, but remembered William Cecil’s words to me, back in January: warn the Lady Elizabeth to be careful no breath of scandal touches her again. And if it should come out that Edith Boleyn had been at Hatfield ten days before her death –

Nicholas and Toby were waiting for me. Both looked solemn. Nicholas, though, made an attempt at a smile. ‘Well, the day has come.’

‘Yes. The twentieth of June.’ I looked at Toby, the bulge of a bandage visible under his green doublet. His black-bearded face looked tired. ‘How is your arm?’

‘A bit painful, the stitches stretch when I ride, but it’s improving. No sign of poison in the wound.’

‘Thank God for that. How fares your mother?’

‘A little better. Keeping to her bed.’ He grimaced. ‘Another hot day, I see. The crops are swelking in the heat, becoming dry. I never thought I would say it after the wet spring, but I wish for some rain. That thunderstorm only batted down the crops. Still, today should be interesting.’ I looked at him, noting again his emotional detachment from the case.

The waiter brought bread and cheese. I said, ‘I want to get down to court as soon as possible, be ready for the witnesses to arrive – Isabella, Chawry, Scambler and –’ I took a deep breath – ‘the twins.’

Nicholas said, ‘The prosecution witnesses will go first – the Brikewell constable, shepherd Kempsley as first finder, and Gawen Reynolds with his grandsons. The evidence of the constable who found the boots and club in the stable is the biggest hurdle.’

‘Yes. And we have the general prejudice against John Boleyn living with Isabella. I dare say there will be some professional pamphleteers in court, ready to scribble down the gruesome details, exaggerate them, and have them printed and sold around the country.’

‘As it’s a criminal trial,’ Toby said, ‘the judges will want the case over as soon as possible. In the London Assizes they sometimes try twenty capital cases a day. And if Judge Gatchet is in charge, he’ll likely be looking for a conviction, to make a moral example.’