“I suppose you trained with Tanner, too? Or maybe you’re a princess in disguise.”

“I’m hardly His Majesty’s daughter,” she said. “I’m just his ward.”

The captain studied her carefully. “One of us is going to be in big trouble when all this is over,” he said, “and I’m starting to think it might be me.”

He didn’t ask anything more after that, just leaned back against the shelf that had hid the secret door, lost in thought. I took the opportunity to glance past him, into the passage.

I couldn’t see much from where I sat, but I could tell it wasn’t just a tunnel. There was a small area, where the King’s Men had been waiting, lit by three lanterns hanging from rusted hooks. In the center was a table, a cup, a pair of dice, and some pennies; they’d been gambling to pass the time. Beyond that, I saw a passage stretching off to the south. No lanterns lit that corridor, so I couldn’t see too far down, but I did spot an iron door in one wall, fixed shut with three giant padlocks.

It left me burning with curiosity. What had they been doing in there?

I knew better than to ask.

It took some time for Perkin to return. When he did, he looked even more sour than before. “The general says bring them to Whitehall.”

Captain Clemens nodded. “And their weapons?”

“Says give them back.”

“I have to get my pigeon upstairs, too,” I said.

Clemens stared at me, then laughed. He was still chuckling as he handed us our things. “Come find me sometime, Bailey. We’ll spar.”

“Yes, sir,” Tom said, beaming.

The captain gave me an ironic salute as Tom collected the sacks of sugar we’d taken from the kitchen. Perkin escorted us out.

I figured we’d be taken to Lord Ashcombe’s office. Instead, Perkin brought us to the door of the parlor where we’d been this morning, two men with halberds standing guard. Sally hadn’t been with us, so she didn’t understand what this meant. Tom did. He turned pale.

One of the guards knocked on the door as we approached. A moment later, Lord Ashcombe opened it. He glared at the three of us, then pointed to Tom and Sally.

“You. Sit.”

They did.

He pointed to me.

“You. In here.”

I handed Bridget to Sally. Sally’s expression said, Sorry this is happening. Tom’s said, This is all your fault.

CHAPTER 36

HIS MAJESTY AWAITED ME IN the parlor. Like this morning, he had a glass of wine in his hand, though there were only half as many spaniels in the room. Three of them ran up to me, tails wagging. One of them was Barbara, looking at me again with hopeful eyes. Given Lord Ashcombe’s expression, I didn’t dare pet her.

To my surprise, Walsingham, the spymaster, was also there, in the same chair in which I’d sat this morning. He watched me without acknowledgment, expression unreadable.

Charles looked both exasperated and amused. “Here’s trouble,” he said. “Odd’s fish, Christopher, you have the most remarkable ability to end up where you shouldn’t.”