The Midsummer Crown by Kate Sedley Read Free Book Online Page A

of the leaders of that expedition, including Francis Lovell.’
    â€˜All right, all right,’ Timothy grunted. ‘There’s no need to get in your high ropes about it. I’m just telling you it’s his ward who’s been snatched, so you can see how serious the matter is.’
    â€˜You call him a boy. How old is he?’
    â€˜Thirteen. The same age as the king.’
    â€˜Is that significant?’
    â€˜In a way, but we’ll come to that in a minute. The murdered man is Gregory Machin, tutor to young Gideon Fitzalan.’
    â€˜The boy who has been abducted?’
    â€˜Yes. At least, the presumption is that he’s been abducted. He’s most certainly disappeared.’
    â€˜So—’ I was beginning, but Timothy interrupted.
    â€˜No, wait! The point about Gregory Machin’s murder is that, although he was stabbed, his body was found in a locked room.’
    â€˜Suicide, then?’ I asked, startled, but Timothy shook his head.
    â€˜No. Whoever killed him was standing behind him. The entrance to the wound was at the back. A quick, sharp jab up under the rib cage into the heart with a narrow, stiletto-type weapon. There was very little blood.’
    â€˜And the room was locked? You’re certain?’
    â€˜Of course I’m fucking certain! Do you think I’m a clodpoll? Or that all the other people who’ve examined the room are clodpolls, as well? The door had to be broken down. It was bolted on the inside.’
    â€˜Where and when did this happen?’
    â€˜Baynard’s Castle, last Friday.’ Timothy eased his lean buttocks against the hard stone of the window seat and eyed my chair longingly before continuing, ‘The day previously, the Duchess of Gloucester finally arrived from the north – she’s staying at Crosby’s Place, by the way, where the duke intends to join her eventually – and as far as I can gather, she brought young Gideon Fitzalan with her at the duke’s request. Or at Francis Lovell’s request, acting on Prince Richard’s orders, whichever you please. The following day, the lad was brought to Baynard’s Castle with his tutor and nurse to meet his uncle, Godfrey Fitzalan, who’s just arrived in London to attend the coronation, and for the present is a part of the Lovell household.’
    â€˜Wait a moment,’ I said. ‘You’re telling me that this boy has a nurse?’
    â€˜They all have nurses,’ Timothy answered with a shrug. ‘We’re talking about young noblemen, not the street urchins you know. They’re not nursery-maids if that’s what you’re thinking. I suppose you could call them surrogate mothers, making sure my young gentleman is warmly wrapped up if it’s cold, that he takes his medicine – if he has any to take, that is – that he has regular bowel movements and physics him if he hasn’t; that, in short, he’s healthy and happy. Well, maybe not necessarily happy, but you get the general idea. Although I don’t imagine Dame Copley will retain her post for very much longer. You’re right in thinking that at thirteen Master Fitzalan is on the brink of manhood. Indeed, many lads of that age already regard themselves as men. But I gather that young Gideon, the Benjamin of a large family of brothers and of a delicate constitution, has been somewhat mollycoddled from infancy onwards. Certainly, Dame Copley is devoted to him, and the way she’s carrying on – the tears, the hysterics – you could be forgiven for thinking the boy is her own son.’
    I nodded, staring thoughtfully at the empty hearth and wishing, irrelevantly, for the glow of a good fire. Although only two weeks from Midsummer Eve and Day, the evenings still had a tendency to turn chilly, sunlight rarely penetrating the streets and houses in this overcrowded quarter of Bristol.
    Finally, I spoke. ‘You hinted just now at some