Suzanne Robinson by Lady Defiant Read Free Book Online Page A

he’d decided that his previous misery had contributed to his loss of memory. Rough as Midnight had been, serving him had been preferable to succumbing to the lust to kill his own father. Besides, the life of a highwayman allowed him to drink deep of the wine of recklessness and freedom. Christian had felt the same.
    From Midnight they had both learned the lawless arts. Christian had been rescued by his father, the Earl of Vasterne. A later encounter with Jack Midnight brought Christian face-to-face with Blade. In spite of Blade’s fury at being plucked from the dubious comfort of Midnight’s band, Christian forced him to take up residence at the earl’s palace while he ferreted out Blade’s true identity.
    At the moment they had returned to the de Rivers mansion on the Strand, for Christian’s inquiries into the matter of Anne Boleyn’s betrothal to Henry Percy had come to an end. He had also consulted with Elizabeth’schief minister, William Cecil, who had reacted with alarm at Blade’s news.
    Having to wait idle for over a fortnight had given Blade the temper of a starving boar. His fear of encountering the French ambassador had kept him from court and from the company of his friends, except for those of low degree who would not frequent the court or mansions of ambassadors. His carefully tended reputation as a dissolute would protect him from suspicion of intrigue, but he would rather few knew of his presence in England for the moment.
    As time passed, he grew more and more apprehensive, for he knew the Cardinal of Lorraine. His network of agents was extensive in London, and whatever Christian discovered, the French minister would as well. The specter of civil war loomed large in his mind. He’d seen the results in the horror of the auto-da-fé, where Lorraine and his allies had publicly burned scores of French Protestants, even children. The thought that the cardinal might acquire the power to perform the auto-da-fé in his beloved England tortured him. He knew Christian felt the same, which made this latest action by the queen seem so foolish. To allow so dangerous a rival as Matthew Stewart to prance off to Scotland to consort with that country’s Catholic ruler seemed the trick of a witless fool.
    Christian was no fool. Blade drew his brows together and studied his friend. “What foul scheme have you hatched with our glorious Queen Elizabeth?”
    “I’ve hatched nothing. I’m not a chicken.”
    “No, you’re a villainous, intriguing, deceitful serpent.” Blade slumped back in his chair and stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankles. “And having learned my trade at your side, I begin to think there’s a plot afoot. Knowing Her Majesty, the true intent is buried well below the headstones I see popping up at my feet.”
    When Christian remained silent, Blade smiled nastilyand continued. “So,” he breathed. “Let me think. The son of Matthew Stewart and his Tudor wife is Henry, Lord Darnley, in whose veins flows the blood of both Tudors and Stewarts. But if I remember me well, our friend the Cardinal of Lorraine called Lord Darnley
‘un gentil huteaudeau’
—an agreeable nincompoop.”
    Christian left the fireplace and came to stand before Blade with the table between them.
    “I’ve tutored you well, comfit.”
    “Since the Queen of Scots is determined to wed, unlike our own virginal majesty, it would be far more agreeable to her for her cousin to marry an agreeable fool than a disagreeably clever man.”
    “And now that you’ve discovered me of my deepest secrets, mayhap you’ll close your mouth so that I may give you news of the witness to Anne Boleyn’s betrothal.”
    “A dangerous gamble, Darnley is.”
    “Made more perilous by the interference of the Cardinal of Lorraine at this most delicate time. Which is why you must go to this witness and prize from him the truth of the betrothal.” Christian straightened and folded his arms over his chest. “You have an instinct for