The Boleyn Deceit by Laura Andersen

him.
    Surrey rose to meet him. “Courtenay,” he said, understandably wary. “Sorry, it’s Exeter now, isn’t it? I haven’t been at court enough to remember.”
    Thomas Howard was younger than Dominic; at not quite nineteen, he was of an age with William. His light brown hair had a hint of red to it and he was clean shaven, which argued a greater than usual care for his appearance while imprisoned. He had a straight nose and his eyes were wide and slightly slanted, giving him an inquisitive, intelligent expression. He’d been the Earl of Surrey since the age of ten, when his own father was executed for treason. There was enough of familiarity and pity about his circumstances that Dominic felt sorry for him.
    Which, he reminded himself, should no more affect his judgment than his distaste for punishing a man before fault had been found. “May we speak privately?” he asked, and Surrey led him into the smaller interior chamber, which contained only a bed and a single chair, while Harrington leaned against the wall of the outer chamber and prepared to learn what he could from Surrey’s men. They had a round table and a deck of cards; men often spoke plainer while their hands were occupied.
    Dominic took the chair and waited for Surrey to perch on the edge of the bed before saying, “I’m here on the king’s behalf.”
    “I believe the men who racked me said the same.”
    “When I say it, you know my commission came face-to-face.”
    “Right. The King’s Shadow, you’re called.”
    Dominic knew it could be worse. Male companions of kings might be called all sorts of things if the king in question were unpopular. Considering how little time he spent flirting with women—exactly none—it was a good thing for his reputation that William was loved.
    Surrey eased slightly, though the underlying tension remained. “What is your commission?”
    “To determine the truth of what happened at Framlingham.”
    “You’ll know better than I do, seeing as you were there and I was not. I’m not the one who stuck a knife in my uncle Giles’s throat.”
    Clearly this wasn’t a man afraid of plain speaking, whatever the circumstances. Dominic met his gaze steadily, though his mind whispered,
It wasn’t a knife, it was a shard of glass. And it wasn’t me …
    “He earned his death,” Dominic countered harshly. “What about you?”
    “I don’t want to die, no more than any man, but how am I to prove a negative? I knew nothing of this Penitent’s Confession I’ve been tortured over, nothing of any Spanish troops or grand Howard design to put Mary on the throne. If I could open my very head to you, you would see that I am innocent of these charges. Since I cannot, all I can give is my word and my past and future actions as bond. If I am to be allowed future action.”
    Dominic stood up and let his silence settle over Surrey while he circled what he could of the tiny room. Before he’d ever come here, he had believed in Surrey’s innocence. But now he waseven more certain. At last, he stood still and stared at Surrey, who rose slowly from the bed and tried not to look either hopeful or desperate. It could be hard to distinguish between the two emotions.
    It would not do to make promises, but Dominic did say, “The king is inclined to be merciful. He desires to unite his kingdom, not divide it further.”
    “I would hope … to live and to serve is my only aim, Lord Exeter.” Surrey stumbled over the words and Dominic realized again just how young he was. How young they all were, and yet trying to do their best for England.
    He and Harrington bid goodbye to the earl and his men (with whom Harrington had indeed been playing cards) and exited into the open, outside the Bloody Tower, where Dominic breathed deeply of the frosty air, glad to be out of the confining walls and eager to return to court. But when he gave thanks to the Lieutenant of the Tower, the man said, “Another prisoner has asked to speak with