Tombland

‘No.’ He hesitated. ‘I think perhaps you were right, her dangling him in front of me was just feminine wiles. Yet I suppose women have but few cards, they must play what they have.’

‘Yes, that is true.’

‘But after reading the letter, I found myself thinking of Isabella Boleyn, her force of character. Beside her Beatrice seems somehow – pale.’ He coloured. ‘I do not mean to be disloyal.’

‘Isabella is a striking woman.’

‘Yet not possessed of Beatrice’s social accomplishments.’

I tried not to smile. ‘No.’

* * *

BARAK JOINED US for dinner. Early as it was, I could tell from his flushed face he had been drinking. His hair and beard were unkempt and he wore an old doublet, unbuttoned, the linen shirt beneath in need of washing. What surprised me most, though, was that he was not wearing his artificial hand. He joined us at the table, throwing himself into a chair. He saw Nicholas and me looking at his empty sleeve. ‘I’ve had enough of the bloody thing. It was aching like fuck this afternoon.’

Nicholas asked, ‘Can you manage your food with one hand?’

‘’Course. I’ve done it before. You can manage anything if you have to.’

I said carefully, ‘Nicholas said you had a letter from Tamasin.’

He looked at me evenly. ‘Yes. D’you know what she said? Guy told her what happened to you, and that you were stuck here for now. She said’ – he launched into a sarcastic imitation of his wife’s voice – ‘ “Maybe now Master Shardlake will know what it feels like to be badly injured; perhaps it is God’s justice on him.” ’ He clenched his good hand. ‘Maybe all this radical Protestantism is getting to her, I thought she had more sense. Well, I’m going to write back telling her the truth, that I’ve lost my job, I’m not sorry, and I’m staying here a few days longer to help you. If she doesn’t like it, she can lump it.’

I had not heard Barak speak in such terms of Tamasin since the time when they had nearly broken up after the death of their first child. Nicholas said, quietly, ‘That is unfair on Master Shardlake. Could you not wait until just before you set out for London, and say you are writing from Suffolk? Otherwise she will vilify Master Shardlake all the more.’

Barak shifted in his chair, looked at me, then nodded. ‘All right, I’ll wait till the end of the week, pretend I’m writing from Suffolk. But it’s the last damned fib I’ll tell her; when I get back I’m not sitting under her thumb any more.’

* * *

THE NEXT DAY , SATURDAY , Isabella Boleyn visited us in the morning, accompanied by Daniel Chawry. I had made my way downstairs again, and we met in the parlour. Isabella looked pale and drawn, and Chawry glanced at her with concern, occasionally fingering his red beard.

‘I am so glad to see you up,’ Isabella said. ‘I was shocked to hear what happened.’ She looked at Nicholas. ‘I thank you both heartily for saving my poor husband’s life.’

Chawry said, ‘My mistress has been to see Master Boleyn. His neck is sore injured. Dr Belys says it will be another week before he is able to speak. He can only eat soft pottage.’

Isabella said, ‘But he wishes you both to visit when you can, that he may in some manner express his gratitude.’

‘I am sure I shall be fit to do that soon,’ I said. ‘I am recovering well.’ I hesitated. ‘I have had a letter from Master Parry. He says that in view of present political troubles the Protector’s secretary, Master Cecil, recommends that he not be troubled with the pardon just yet. He and I both know Master Cecil,’ I continued reassuringly, ‘and he is a friend to the Lady Elizabeth. But I fear your husband will be in the castle a while yet.’

‘Those damned rebels,’ Chawry said. ‘I hear rumours of some trouble in Kent now.’

I looked at Isabella. She had lowered her head, and I saw tears at the corners of her eyes. But then she looked up again, chin thrust forward. ‘Then I must ensure he is kept in good spirits.’ She turned to Chawry. ‘Daniel has managed to sell that wretched horse Midnight.’

Chawry said, ‘I got more for him than I thought. Some men like a difficult horse to train.’

‘The stable is empty.’ Isabella gave me a quick look. ‘I cleared it out myself.’ I nodded. That meant she had found Boleyn’s money. I wondered if she had told Chawry.

‘You will not be able to ride yet?’ Isabella said.

‘I hope to be able to ride to the castle to see your husband, perhaps by Monday.’ I ignored a dubious look from Nicholas. ‘And perhaps leave late next week.’

She looked a little downcast. ‘I will be sorry to see you both depart.’

‘We will keep in touch,’ Nicholas promised.

* * *

I WROTE BRIEFLY TO Parry and the Lady Elizabeth, explaining that I would be delayed because of my injury. I sent a longer letter to Guy, stressing how much improved I was.

The rest of the weekend I spent walking, with increasing confidence, and exercising my back under Dr Belys’s direction. He was pleased with my progress and agreed I might make a short ride on Monday, provided I was careful.