you. She was most insistent, though who can say how she heard of your presence.”
She
—it could only be Eleanor Howard. He traded glances with Harrington, who shrugged slightly as if to say
Up to you.
Dominic had no desire to speak with William’s former mistress, but she was the only female of the Howard family to be confined to the Tower. Guilt decided him. Or perhaps it was merely prudence. Eleanor made an unpredictable enemy.
She was being held in Beauchamp Tower, closer to the Lieutenant’s Lodging. Her outer chamber was smaller than Surrey’s, but it was warmer and richer, with tapestries on the walls that she would have had to pay extra for. She had two maids with her, both older and plainer women than herself who had the knack of blending into the furniture. From the moment Dominic entered,Eleanor ignored her maids completely and focused all her attention on him.
She was undoubtedly an attractive woman—with her flaxen blond hair and surprisingly dark eyes—and she had the trick of looking at every man she met with more than a hint of promised pleasure. There were no concessions to prison in her clothing; she wore an extravagant gown of moss green velvet edged with ermine. Though she had claimed to be pregnant at the time of her arrest, there was no sign of it now beneath her tightly cinched stomacher.
Dominic had not seen her since November, and she said almost the same thing she had that last night at Framlingham. “I must see the king.”
He opened his mouth to reply and she snapped, “And don’t say he doesn’t consort with traitors. I am not a traitor. You know that.”
He did—reluctantly—know that. She was grasping and ambitious and amoral and had never evinced the slightest grief over her husband’s violent death … but she was loyal to William. He was probably the only thing she had ever been loyal to.
He promised what he could. “I will speak to him.” Surely if William were going to release Surrey and allow him to become Duke of Norfolk, he would set Eleanor free as well, if only for the sake of the child she had borne him. Not to return to court, of course … which was best for all concerned.
Eleanor narrowed her eyes, as though she knew what he was thinking, but said only, “You do that.”
If Eleanor discovered even a hint of William’s passion for Minuette, she would make a relentless enemy.
William was shooting with an arquebus when Dominic returned from the Tower. He heard Rochford’s queries and, content to let his uncle have the first say, lifted the twenty-pound matchlock gun onto the forked stick and sighted carefully. He squeezed the lever, igniting the flash, and the ball shot out to strike the targeted breastplate. William liked shooting at plate armour; he was close enough to this breastplate to tear through it completely. As the onlookers applauded, he handed the arquebus to his arms master and looked over to Rochford and Dominic, in close conversation.
In the months since turning eighteen, William had found satisfaction in standing his ground and forcing others to come to him. When he beckoned them, he thought Rochford moved a little slowly.
“Walk with me,” he commanded. This time his uncle definitely hesitated when William made clear that it was Dominic he wanted at his side.
“You spoke to Surrey,” William remarked, leaving Rochford to pace slightly behind them.
“I did.”
“And?”
“I am convinced he had nothing to do with his grandfather’s treason. The investigation has not turned up any evidence, he went nowhere near Framlingham or the rest of his family for months, and his character—”
“You think there is a specific character type for treason?” Rochford cut in. “That you can know by past action how a man will jump in future?”
“
If
a man will jump, perhaps not. But
how
he will—if the Earl of Surrey committed treason, I do not believe he would lie about it. He would have his reasons, and he would not be ashamed of
She
—it could only be Eleanor Howard. He traded glances with Harrington, who shrugged slightly as if to say
Up to you.
Dominic had no desire to speak with William’s former mistress, but she was the only female of the Howard family to be confined to the Tower. Guilt decided him. Or perhaps it was merely prudence. Eleanor made an unpredictable enemy.
She was being held in Beauchamp Tower, closer to the Lieutenant’s Lodging. Her outer chamber was smaller than Surrey’s, but it was warmer and richer, with tapestries on the walls that she would have had to pay extra for. She had two maids with her, both older and plainer women than herself who had the knack of blending into the furniture. From the moment Dominic entered,Eleanor ignored her maids completely and focused all her attention on him.
She was undoubtedly an attractive woman—with her flaxen blond hair and surprisingly dark eyes—and she had the trick of looking at every man she met with more than a hint of promised pleasure. There were no concessions to prison in her clothing; she wore an extravagant gown of moss green velvet edged with ermine. Though she had claimed to be pregnant at the time of her arrest, there was no sign of it now beneath her tightly cinched stomacher.
Dominic had not seen her since November, and she said almost the same thing she had that last night at Framlingham. “I must see the king.”
He opened his mouth to reply and she snapped, “And don’t say he doesn’t consort with traitors. I am not a traitor. You know that.”
He did—reluctantly—know that. She was grasping and ambitious and amoral and had never evinced the slightest grief over her husband’s violent death … but she was loyal to William. He was probably the only thing she had ever been loyal to.
He promised what he could. “I will speak to him.” Surely if William were going to release Surrey and allow him to become Duke of Norfolk, he would set Eleanor free as well, if only for the sake of the child she had borne him. Not to return to court, of course … which was best for all concerned.
Eleanor narrowed her eyes, as though she knew what he was thinking, but said only, “You do that.”
If Eleanor discovered even a hint of William’s passion for Minuette, she would make a relentless enemy.
William was shooting with an arquebus when Dominic returned from the Tower. He heard Rochford’s queries and, content to let his uncle have the first say, lifted the twenty-pound matchlock gun onto the forked stick and sighted carefully. He squeezed the lever, igniting the flash, and the ball shot out to strike the targeted breastplate. William liked shooting at plate armour; he was close enough to this breastplate to tear through it completely. As the onlookers applauded, he handed the arquebus to his arms master and looked over to Rochford and Dominic, in close conversation.
In the months since turning eighteen, William had found satisfaction in standing his ground and forcing others to come to him. When he beckoned them, he thought Rochford moved a little slowly.
“Walk with me,” he commanded. This time his uncle definitely hesitated when William made clear that it was Dominic he wanted at his side.
“You spoke to Surrey,” William remarked, leaving Rochford to pace slightly behind them.
“I did.”
“And?”
“I am convinced he had nothing to do with his grandfather’s treason. The investigation has not turned up any evidence, he went nowhere near Framlingham or the rest of his family for months, and his character—”
“You think there is a specific character type for treason?” Rochford cut in. “That you can know by past action how a man will jump in future?”
“
If
a man will jump, perhaps not. But
how
he will—if the Earl of Surrey committed treason, I do not believe he would lie about it. He would have his reasons, and he would not be ashamed of
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