It Started With A Look. Miranda Lee
are right to fear it, since I do myself. I raise the matter with you because I feel you should know—that you must be warned. It’s only right that you should be prepared should something of a vicious nature occur that may prompt awkward questions to be asked of Sir Henry. What we are discussing is of an extremely serious nature—one I have not discussed with anyone else. If something should happen—and my instincts tell me it will—events have a nasty way of implicating the innocent. I have no wish to see my own head roll by making myself conspicuous.’
Serena stared at him in horror, swallowing against a restricting tightness in her throat. ‘Is it as serious as all that?’ she whispered.
‘Yes. I’m afraid it is.’
‘And do you trust your instincts?’
‘As a soldier I had to—and they could usually be relied upon. Since the king’s renewed persecution of the Catholics, I suspect there is something afoot, that a scheme is being devised to bring down the king and his government. I also fear your father may have unwittingly been drawn in to become a part of it.’
‘And how do you know this?’ Serena asked with a sinking heart.
‘Whilst in London I often supped with Catesby and his friend Thomas Percy at various taverns and eating houses, where they and their associates would meet. Robert Catesby, as you know, is a man of powerful charm and a dominating personality, who cuts a wide swathe in most company. He also has the easy ability of a man who can talk anyone into doing anything. I believe he is a convert to Catholicism—and, indeed, he has a typical convert’s passion for his faith—with an ill-conceived ardour which will make him as willing to kill for it as to die for it.
‘It’s no secret that he is deeply involved with religious malcontents like himself. I can name several—all opulent and obstinate followers of their religion, most of them living in the Midlands in their large mansions. Some you know well,’ Kit said, speaking gravely, his dark eyes surveying Serena closely, ‘whose houses you visit to conduct the rituals of your faith—where priests are condemned to secret refuges to hide from pursuivants.’
Serena met his gaze calmly. ‘You are well informed, Lord Brodie. The rituals are conducted with some trepidation, but their importance overrides any disquiet we might feel at the possible consequences should we be discovered.’
Kit nodded slowly. He admired her words, which were repeated by many courageous Catholic women playing a crucial part in the survival of the Catholic faith in the face of ruthless persecution.
‘Bravely spoken,’ he commented quietly. ‘It is no secret that Catesby has been involved in failed conspiracies in the past. When Queen Elizabeth was moved to save him from a premature death after his involvment in the Essex conspiracy in sixteen-oh-one, he was fortunate to leave the Tower with his head intact. On the surface there was nothing unusual in the meetings I was privy to, but I am no fool and strongly suspect some enterprise more serious than cards or dice to be their reason for meeting.’
‘And they let you, a Protestant, listen in?’ Serena commented with irony. ‘I beg your pardon, Lord Brodie, but that I cannot believe.’
‘There was nothing secretive in the gatherings, which were social, jovial affairs, where not everyone was of the Catholic faith.’
‘Then tell me this. Are you saying that my father could be endangering his life by selling his horses to Robert Catesby?’
‘That depends on his true reason for doing so.’
‘You don’t believe they are to go towards raising a troop of horse for the Spanish Netherlands?’
Kit shook his head in consternation. ‘I don’t know. I doubt it and believe it to be a smokescreen to conceal the true purpose of the purchase of so many horses. But I have not the slightest inkling of what is going on.’
‘What other reason could there be?’
‘Unfortunately I cannot answer that. I only know that since King James has crushed Catholic hopes for liberty of conscience and will not meet certain concessions, there are those of a violent, impatient nature who will not wait with passive endurance for change to come about.’
Serena was appalled at what he was implying. ‘But any violent means to bring about tolerance can never be justified. The sentiments of honest Catholics would never support this. If there is a conspiracy, then those involved must desist from such wicked actions that can only result in weakening the cause. But why does it interest you? Why involve yourself—especially since you are not of the Catholic persuasion?’
‘I don’t take religion seriously, I confess. I worship God in my own way and believe others should be allowed to do the same. I concern myself because your father is my friend, and I value his friendship. All I know is that it has been hinted that something of a seditious sort will be attempted by Catholics when Parliament reconvenes next month.’
Serena paled. ‘But that is treason.’
Kit looked at her steadily. ‘Only if it fails will it be called treason.’
‘There have been failed conspiracies before. How can this be any different?’
‘Well may you ask. Who is to say at this stage what will happen? But I believe that the Catholic cause, the throne and succession itself, could hang on this.’
‘If my father is in danger I should know about it. If you have discovered a conspiracy against the king, which may include him, please tell me.’
‘I wish I could tell you more, but what I have are suspicions, nothing more.’
‘Aye!’ Serena exclaimed irately, clutching the reins tighter as at a threat. ‘My brother said much the same to me before he returned to Italy.’
Kit looked at her sharply. ‘Your brother has been here recently? He gave you warning?’
‘Yes. Andrew has heard rumblings as far away as Rome, which brought him to England to see Father—no doubt to warn him about a scheme he was already aware of,’ she uttered bitterly. ‘He said much the same as yourself—that something ugly is about to manifest itself.’
Kit’s brows drew together as he contemplated this latest information. ‘As early as that! Then it is worse than I thought. Any conspiracy will have been deep laid and well and truly thought out by now—and I suspect Catesby, who is capable of great ambitions and is multitalented in the subtle stratagems of devising a master plot, of being the clever mind behind it. However, I very much doubt that Sir Henry is part of any such scheme.’
Serena was both angry and hurt, strongly suspecting that Andrew had withheld information because he believed such things were not a woman’s concern. But how could it not be when she was the one left alone with their father? If it was her father’s concern, then it was hers also.
‘Why not?’ Serena flared bitterly. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time. I love my father dearly, Lord Brodie, but he has been playing the Catholic cause since he was old enough to understand. He is not likely to stop now—even if it means dragging me in, too.’
‘I’m sure your father loves you too well to involve himself in anything that would cause you harm.’
‘His past behaviour leads me to think otherwise, and if he is involved then so am I by association.’ Serena looked at Kit beseechingly as they rode into the stable yard, her lovely eyes wide and deeply troubled, stirred despite her earlier animosity by what he had confided to her. ‘Lord Brodie, will you speak to him—discover how deeply he is involved? Please tell him of your suspicions and warn him.’
Kit shook his head slowly, jumping down from his horse when a stable lad came to take it from him. ‘If he is embroiled in any conspiracy, then I doubt he would disclose it to me. But after saying that, my instinct tells me most assuredly that he has no hand in any scheme.’
The sky loomed dark and impenetrable, and by the time they reached the house a heavy downpour was unleashed on