Read The Doublet Affair (Ursula Blanchard Mysteries) for Free Online

be Secretary of State myself.
    I therefore set off for Canon Row with Fenn as well as Dale and Brockley. I was mildly amused, for ofcourse I had had no thought of failing to keep my appointment. I was doing so under false pretences, but fifty Paul Fenns could make no difference to that.
    After leaving the Queen’s presence, I had seethed for an hour and then realised that my decision had taken itself. Somehow or other, I would take Meg and go, without permission or passport, to France. It could be done: the highway of the Thames carried plenty of vessels whose skippers would take anyone anywhere for a suitable consideration. Brockley would find one for me.
    Meanwhile, I must appear to accept the Queen’s commands, so I took the arm of my unnecessary young escort, and with Dale and Brockley following, we all set off on foot for nearby Canon Row. We were well wrapped against the cold and the continuing rain, the men wearing boots while Dale and I clumped along on pattens to keep our feet clear of the mud. Beneath my cloak, I had donned a fresh cream brocade underskirt, this time worn with a pale green damask, and put on a clean ruff. My heart might not be in this, but I wished to look as though it was.
    The Cecils’ house was blessedly warm. Fenn took my blanketlike mantle and my clumsy footwear, and waited politely while Dale gave me the fashionable shoes she had been carrying for me. He directed Brockley and Dale to the servants’ quarters, then, with a courteous smile which gave me another view of his superb teeth—the slight flaw in the front ones hardly mattered—he observed that Sir William and Lady Mildred were awaiting me, and showed me into the small dining parlour where the Cecils ate when they were alone together or had only one or two guests.
    The room was welcoming, with many candles and a bright fire in the hearth, dispelling the January cold. The table was laid, draped in fine white damask. I hadn’t been in that room for some time and I noticed that since my last visit, it had acquired new wallhangings: a set of exquisite tapestries and an eastern carpet, in shades of azure and rose. Cecil, coming forward with his wife to greet me, saw me looking at them.
    “We have been enjoying a little extravagance lately, in a merchant’s warehouse,” he said. “I hope you like the result. Welcome, Ursula. Come and sit down.”
    Cecil in private was easy to talk to, and although Lady Mildred’s formidable intellect and preference for austere dark gowns intimidated some people, she had a good heart. They had both been kind to me when first I came to court, and since then, they had been kind to Meg. I liked the Cecils, and it came home to me that the deception I was planning would seem to them like a betrayal. A bleak misery descended on me, so intense that Lady Mildred saw it. In her blunt fashion, she at once spoke of it.
    “Ursula, my dear, we know that you are preparing to join your husband and are chafing at the delay, but the Queen is right: it is a bad time of year for travelling, and you are needed here just now. It is only for a while. Spring will be here before you know it. Come by the fire. We’re happy to have you, even if this isn’t quite a social occasion. We will begin in sociable fashion, at least. No business will be discussed until we’ve eaten our first course.”
    I tried to think of a suitable reply and couldn’t. Smoothly, Cecil bridged the gap. “My wife is resolvedon putting off business until we have eaten our meat. She says it would spoil our appetites, and in this cold weather, that would never do. One must eat well in winter.”
    “Now, do come over to the warmth,” said Lady Mildred, drawing me towards the hearth.
    With great skill they then embarked on light conversation about the weather. To this, at least, I could respond. When the meal was served, the small talk continued, drifting from the weather and food to minor court gossip and then to the remarkable musical box which