defiant angle.
“Parker . . .” Simon looked between them. His hand was already on the door. “I’m sorry.” He slipped out.
She stared at the door as it swung closed, and wondered how many more would close against her in the days to come.
“What now?” She did not know, for the first time in a long time, what to do next.
“Now we get some rest.” Parker held his hand out. “On the morrow, we go to the King.”
She nodded. Allowed him to pull her to her feet. “Before he comes to us.”
* * *
Parker stepped out of the King’s Chambers, to the hall where Susanna waited. “The King is not here.”
“Where is he?” She frowned.
“Wherever Simon took him last night, I’ll wager.”
“Ah.” Understanding lit her face, and she stared at the door. He lifted his hands, and felt her shoulders, taut as the strings of a bow beneath his fingers. “Do we go to him?”
Parker shook his head. “He is . . . private about these things.”
He saw her lips open, as if to say something, and then close.
“Parker and the lovely Mistress Horenbout.” Will Somers stepped out of the gloom of the passage behind them, his voice deep and resonant. It was as if he’d been there all along.
Parker would have sworn not, but with the King’s Fool, he never truly knew.
“Good morning, sir.” Susanna dipped in curtsy, and Parker saw Somers’ eyes flicker.
“A good morn to you, too.” He took a step closer, his eyes going to the bruise on Parker’s forehead. “I see you are still fighting battles, Parker. I know you never take a turn in the lists, yet you sustain many hurts.” He rubbed his hands together. “What is afoot?”
Parker did not answer, as Somers knew he would not, and the Fool chuckled.
“You never know, I might keep it to myself.” Somers cocked his head as he spoke, and wriggled his hand from side to side.
“I don’t trade in maybes.” Parker held his arm to Susanna. Time was slipping. A sense of urgency pressed on him, forcing him forward. They needed to confront Wolsey’s accusation head on, or he could see nothing ahead but trouble.
Susanna stepped closer to him, to take his arm.
“A word of wisdom, fair lady, for one who always greets me as well as she greets the King himself.” Somers hand came out, and gripped Susanna’s wrist.
Parker’s eyes narrowed, but the Fool ignored him, his gaze locked with Susanna’s.
“Go to the Queen. Go openly. Make her come out into the main chamber where all can see you, and talk to her of painting. Talk on and on about painting.” He let go of her and stepped back into the gloom behind him. “Go now.”
Chapter Eleven
that a king, even though he would, can do nothing unjustly; that all property is in him, not excepting the very persons of his subjects; and that no man has any other property but that which the king, out of his goodness, thinks fit to leave him.
Utopia by Thomas More (translated by H. Morley)
“I thought you were to come early?” Gertrude Courtenay spoke sharply, her body blocking the entrance to the Queen’s inner chamber. Susanna had never heard her so agitated.
She held herself stiff, and the look she sent Susanna was a little too wild. Her gaze skittered about the room behind them.
“We had a few distractions.” Parker did not motion to his bruised head, but Gertrude’s eyes flew there, and she had the grace to blush.
“So I see.” Her voice softened. “Come, the Queen will see you.”
Susanna shook her head. “We would not disturb the Queen in her private chamber. Perhaps if she feels well enough to join us here?”
Gertrude’s mouth fell open, and Susanna struggled to keep herself from wincing. The request was a scandalous one. To presume to set the place for a meeting with the Queen was beyond the pale. She willed Gertrude to read her face, to read the urgency and importance of agreement.
It would not just be she who came under a cloud if Wolsey pushed his suit. The Queen was in danger,
“Parker . . .” Simon looked between them. His hand was already on the door. “I’m sorry.” He slipped out.
She stared at the door as it swung closed, and wondered how many more would close against her in the days to come.
“What now?” She did not know, for the first time in a long time, what to do next.
“Now we get some rest.” Parker held his hand out. “On the morrow, we go to the King.”
She nodded. Allowed him to pull her to her feet. “Before he comes to us.”
* * *
Parker stepped out of the King’s Chambers, to the hall where Susanna waited. “The King is not here.”
“Where is he?” She frowned.
“Wherever Simon took him last night, I’ll wager.”
“Ah.” Understanding lit her face, and she stared at the door. He lifted his hands, and felt her shoulders, taut as the strings of a bow beneath his fingers. “Do we go to him?”
Parker shook his head. “He is . . . private about these things.”
He saw her lips open, as if to say something, and then close.
“Parker and the lovely Mistress Horenbout.” Will Somers stepped out of the gloom of the passage behind them, his voice deep and resonant. It was as if he’d been there all along.
Parker would have sworn not, but with the King’s Fool, he never truly knew.
“Good morning, sir.” Susanna dipped in curtsy, and Parker saw Somers’ eyes flicker.
“A good morn to you, too.” He took a step closer, his eyes going to the bruise on Parker’s forehead. “I see you are still fighting battles, Parker. I know you never take a turn in the lists, yet you sustain many hurts.” He rubbed his hands together. “What is afoot?”
Parker did not answer, as Somers knew he would not, and the Fool chuckled.
“You never know, I might keep it to myself.” Somers cocked his head as he spoke, and wriggled his hand from side to side.
“I don’t trade in maybes.” Parker held his arm to Susanna. Time was slipping. A sense of urgency pressed on him, forcing him forward. They needed to confront Wolsey’s accusation head on, or he could see nothing ahead but trouble.
Susanna stepped closer to him, to take his arm.
“A word of wisdom, fair lady, for one who always greets me as well as she greets the King himself.” Somers hand came out, and gripped Susanna’s wrist.
Parker’s eyes narrowed, but the Fool ignored him, his gaze locked with Susanna’s.
“Go to the Queen. Go openly. Make her come out into the main chamber where all can see you, and talk to her of painting. Talk on and on about painting.” He let go of her and stepped back into the gloom behind him. “Go now.”
Chapter Eleven
that a king, even though he would, can do nothing unjustly; that all property is in him, not excepting the very persons of his subjects; and that no man has any other property but that which the king, out of his goodness, thinks fit to leave him.
Utopia by Thomas More (translated by H. Morley)
“I thought you were to come early?” Gertrude Courtenay spoke sharply, her body blocking the entrance to the Queen’s inner chamber. Susanna had never heard her so agitated.
She held herself stiff, and the look she sent Susanna was a little too wild. Her gaze skittered about the room behind them.
“We had a few distractions.” Parker did not motion to his bruised head, but Gertrude’s eyes flew there, and she had the grace to blush.
“So I see.” Her voice softened. “Come, the Queen will see you.”
Susanna shook her head. “We would not disturb the Queen in her private chamber. Perhaps if she feels well enough to join us here?”
Gertrude’s mouth fell open, and Susanna struggled to keep herself from wincing. The request was a scandalous one. To presume to set the place for a meeting with the Queen was beyond the pale. She willed Gertrude to read her face, to read the urgency and importance of agreement.
It would not just be she who came under a cloud if Wolsey pushed his suit. The Queen was in danger,
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