Precious Bones by Irina Shapiro Page B

grin.
    “Thank you, Adrian, but I think I’ll pass on the balls this time around.”

 
    Chapter 16
    April 1586
     
    It was still dark and bitterly cold when Tom, Pippa and Constance left the house on Sunday morning.  Thick, yellow, fog swirled around them making it almost impossible to see where they were going, but they knew the way by heart and walked briskly, without speaking.  There were very few people about at this time of the morning, but they still took precautions not to be recognized.  Tom had his hat pulled down low over his eyes and the girls wore their hoods, making it impossible to see their faces from a distance.  They reached their destination and knocked on a low, wooden door.   A square peephole opened up, and then the sleepy servant opened the door and let them in.  Lady Devon was already waiting for them in the hall, and after wishing them a good morrow, bid them to follow. 
    She took them down to the kitchens where the shadows from the hearth flickered on the vaulted stone ceiling.  The maids were already hard at work, but they ignored the small procession and went about their tasks.  Lady Devon passed through a dusty wine cellar, then led them down a narrow corridor which ended in a low, arched door.  She didn’t bother knocking and just walked in.  The chamber was narrow, with a low stone ceiling and no windows.  It was dominated by a carved altar at the end, adorned with an altar cloth and a large, silver crucifix; flanked on either side by a tall, white candle in a silver candlestick.  There was a statue of the Virgin Mary in the corner, and several candles had been lit at her feet.
    Jane’s family was already there and Tom went over to pay his respects, while Constance turned to Lady Devon.  “Where is Father Francis?” she asked anxiously.
    “Don’t worry, my dear.  He is safe.  We thought it best for him not to stay at any one house too long, so he is currently lodging with the Hortons.”  Constance took a seat next to Pippa on a wooden bench and took out her prayer book.  Lady Devon left the chamber and returned a few minutes later followed by the Horton family and their footman.  The Horton children looked sleepy as they took their place s on the last bench, and the footman donned a cassock over his clothing transforming himself into Father Francis.  The priest was very young, with a fresh, round face and rosy cheeks more suitable to a farm hand than a priest of Rome, but he was very devout, his sermons passionate and rousing.
    Father Francis began Mass without further delay, and they all rose to their feet opening their prayer books.  They could not afford to waste time since they had to go to Sunday Mass at their parish Anglican Church immediately after.  Appearances had to be kept up, and everyone began to disperse after taking their communion.   Father Francis was once again the footman, and the Thornes waited for their turn to leave.  It would be unseemly for everyone to come trooping out of Lady Devon’s house together, so they hung back allowing the Hortons and Simms to leave first.
    Lady Devon looked anxious as she spoke to Tom.  “The other priest who came over with Father Francis ha s been arrested by Norris.  We hear he is being held in the Tower.  Lord only knows what they are doing to the poor man.  If he confesses that he didn’t come alone, we are all in danger.  He stayed here with Father Francis.  He might lead them to us.”
    “He won’t talk, ” Tom reassured her.  “He would never betray us.”
    “You have never been tortured, dear boy,” she said softly, no doubt thinking of her husband.  Lord Devon had been accused of being part of a conspiracy to put Mary, Queen of Scots, on the throne, and had been arrested and held in the Tower for over a year.  He currently lay upstairs, unable to move his arms or legs since being stretched on the rack, incapable of speech.  Norris had his tongue cut out when he refused to talk and