The Marlowe Conspiracy (18 page)

“And which circle do you work in?”

“Thomas and I work in Burghley's...” He picked distractedly at a button on his doublet. “You see, just like the rest of the country, we're at war with ourselves. One circle tries to eliminate the other. Perhaps Burghley’s union with Whitgift has provoked him to clean house? Get rid of people he can't trust?”

Audrey glanced down at the candle.

“I’ll do my best to help. You know that, don’t you?”

“We haven’t much time,” Kit warned.

“What should I look for?”

“Something that ties Whitgift or Burghley to the libels.”

She nodded resolutely.

A moment later, they crept over to the desk, pulled back the drawers at either side, and set to work.

SCENE EIGHT

The Study.

T
he files held everything from bound reports, to loose sheets, to oddly sized notes of paper that tried to flutter away. Kit and Audrey laid the removed files in neat piles atop the desk, paying special attention to the stacking order so they could replace everything exactly as found. For over half an hour they searched without finding anything of use.

Just as Kit slid a file out from a large desk drawer, he stood up sharply and grabbed Audrey's shoulder. She halted on the spot. From the corridor outside the study came the nightwatchman's footsteps. Slow and dawdling, the footsteps clomped up to the door and moved past and the noise died away again.

Kit and Audrey returned to searching the files. He noticed a glimmer on her shoulder and peered down: the ouroboros brooch he had given her was pinned to the top of her bodice. Candlelight flickered on the scales of the golden serpent. He gazed at it with fascination, as if he had never seen it before: the snake's flat head and straight-lipped mouth devouring its own slender tail. He pointed to it. Audrey smiled and blushed in the gentle candlelight.

“Just wanted to look nice,” she said. “It's not everyday I break into my husband's study.”

He nodded and smiled. She glanced away and studied the file in her hand.

“Found something?” he said hopefully.

“Yes, I think so.”

“Something important?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Let me look.”

“It’s a conspiracy.” She touched a paragraph in the middle of the page and traced her finger along one of the lines. “It says here the Queen is really a man – that's why she wears so much make-up!”

He smiled, gave a quiet chuckle, and shook his head.

“Come, my lady, let's stay focused.”

She closed the file and stacked it carefully on the desk. Afterwards, Kit tried to read the parchment in his own hands but strained to concentrate. He peeked over at her and watched the way she pointed with her little left finger. Her fingertips made graceful, darting movements and her knuckles rose and fell as she curled her petite hand. She had such a nimbleness of touch.

As he watched her, tiny pinches of anger tightened in his neck and shoulders. It was dangerous to feel this way. It only made him vulnerable and did nothing to help his predicament.

Audrey's eyes lit up. She almost jumped as she ran her finger over some words in a file.

“Christopher!”

“What now?”

“Mark this!”

“Another conspiracy, I’ll wager.”

“No, not this time, I’m in all seriousness, I promise you. It links Thomas with Cholmeley. A certificate of promotion in one year.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Can't you do better than that?”

She shoved the file at him. He regarded her quizzically, then realized she was serious and took it from her. Their fingers brushed. Inside the cover of the file he scanned through a note scrawled in Thomas’s handwriting. Quite clearly it linked Thomas with Cholmeley. While he read the note a second time, she stood nearer to him and peered down at the note, proud of her work.

“It's a start,” he said with a hint of pleasure. He turned his head toward her, noticing she was close.

Their eyes locked together. Her face was so near that her eyes looked unusually large. His tiny image reflected in her iris. Without the slightest effort, their mouths drifted closer, her supple lips so near he could almost taste them, almost feel their full, smooth warmth upon his skin...

Just a mere fraction from kissing her, he pulled back.

“What's wrong?” she asked.

He paused, unable to answer. She waited and fixed herself to the spot with a static posture and an unwavering gaze: the utter stillness of a sculpture.

“Don’t worry for Thomas,” she muttered under her breath. “We both know he loves men more than women.”

“It’s not that…”

She stepped back sadly.

“Oh, I see...”

“What?”

“...you're still being Christopher Marlowe.”

He frowned, surprised at the harshness of her tone.

“And who else should I be?”

She shrugged and looked away.

He turned quickly back to the files, sorting through them with trembling hands. She shook her head at him. Her mind elsewhere, she swiveled toward the desk to continue working. Then it happened.

Her sleeve snagged accidentally on a stack of files.

Sent them walloping down.

Paper whooshed out from the files, twirled in the air, scattered, slapped onto the wood floor, and spilt far across the room. Both of them stood and stared at the mess. Instinctively, she bent down to clear the files up.

“My apologies, Christopher! Oh, dear, my deepest apologies.”

Kit hooked her by the arm to stop her from moving. Footsteps clattered down the corridor outside. In mere seconds, the nightwatchman's knuckles banged on the door. He shook the handle violently.

“Who's in there?”

Keys jangled, scraped at the lock.

“Who's there?”

A crash of metal sounded as the nightwatchman dropped them to the floor.

“Oh, you fobbing jolt-head!” he cursed at himself. He filled his lungs and yelled at the top of his voice. “Thieves! Thieves! Thieves in the house!”

Kit took a jarring breath. Clenched his teeth so hard a vein pulsed in his jaw. He burst into action. With Cholmeley's note clamped in his hand, he ushered Audrey back towards the secret passage.

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
The nightwatchman beat his fists against the door, too excited to untangle his keys.

Kit and Audrey rushed across the office, files slipping under their feet. Audrey's face contorted with panic. Her hair flailed out behind her as she ran. Half tripping on the corner of a chest, they reached for the secret door. Flung it open. Dived into the passageway.

As they shut the door and raced back down the winding staircase, they failed to notice they had dropped behind one tiny, delicate, but important object. Back in the office, lying atop a mess of paper near the wall, the ouroboros brooch shimmered in the moonlight...

SCENE NINE

Secret Passage.

K
it and Audrey flew back down the passage steps and fought their way back through the laurel bush. Along the crunching path at the back of the house, they hastened toward the kitchen door and stole back through the corridors of the manor.

At one corner, they pressed close to the wall and looked down to the end of the far corridor: Thomas and a gaggle of servants, all in their linen bed-shirts and nightcaps, stood around the entrance to the study. The door was now wide open, and everyone prattled with shock and agitation while gawking at the chaos inside. Kit heard someone say that the nightwatchman had alerted the courtyard guards and was now stalking the manor grounds.

Unseen by the others, Kit and Audrey darted away. With light toes and softly tapping heels, they swept across the hall, ascended the stairs, and scampered back to their bedchambers. Before he entered his room, Kit glanced down the corridor to Audrey. She paused at her door, looked at him with scared, candid, loving eyes, and vanished into her room.

The next morning, Scadbury buzzed with the events of the previous night. Every servant invented theories, named suspects, and criticized the slackness of the guards and the nightwatchman.

In the living room, servants had opened the tall windows to expel the stale air that had collected during the night. A morning gust now blew inside, fragrant with the freshness of the lawns and dew-laden shrubs. The air flapped in the white curtains, made them pull at their brass rings, and swept them back into the room to tussle and snap over the woven surface of a fine blue rug. In an armchair by the wall, Thomas crossed his legs and reclined quietly. His brown hair and pointed forelock were neatly combed. With a small, sharp knife, he sliced an apple into segments and crushed the flesh between his teeth. His face looked dark with brooding. Behind him, Frizer slunk about by the hearth.

Kit appeared cautiously in the doorway and both Thomas and Frizer turned and stared at him. A red spot blotched Kit's chin from where he'd cut himself while shaving. Bags puffed beneath his eyes. His hair looked mussed and direct from the pillow.

“Sleep well, Christopher?” said Thomas.

“No,” Kit replied awkwardly. “Not after the break-in.”

“Ah...”

“They didn't take anything, I hope?”

Thomas and Frizer exchanged a knowing glance.

“It's hard to pin down what's missing,” Thomas replied. He bit into a segment of apple.

Kit paused a moment. He felt Cholmeley’s note inside his shirt, tucked under his belt.

“Anyway, I've packed my possessions,” he mumbled. “I just came to say farewell.”

Thomas raised his eyebrows and sat forward.

“Where are you off today? London, perchance?”

“Yes… to London…”

“Is that a safe choice?”

“Probably not, but it’s a necessary one.”

“I believe you can’t stay away from that city.”

“The Earl of Derby gave me a few leads I need to explore there.”

Silence followed. Curtains snapped at the window. Kit shifted his weight and looked down. He felt a tiny sense of regret that their friendship had come to this.

Thomas pressed his lips tight.

“Fare thee well, Christopher.”

Kit gave a curt bow, then turned away sadly and dipped out of the room.

When Kit’s footsteps had faded away, Thomas raised his hand and beckoned Frizer to his side. Frizer craned his long neck down to listen.

“He's not to London,” said Thomas in a low voice.

“I knew he was lying, sir,” Frizer replied, trying not to appear too surprised. “You can see it in the face. Never fools me.”

“Who do we have who needs work?”

“Baines.”