And so, in March of Anno Domini 1666, Charles II, the Merry Monarch, was cut down, murdered cruelly by men of the Covenant. So then did the kingdoms of England and Scotland fall once more into war, brother against brother, until blood painted the streets. The failure to protect His Majesty was the failure of one: Christopher Rowe, apprentice.

I hadn’t confessed any of this to Tom or Sally. After Walsingham had let me go, I’d led them into the Privy Garden, so no one else could hear. There, among the flowers and statues, I told them what had been decided.

Neither one looked as if they felt themselves respon sible. I wished I felt the same.

“So what do we do?” Tom said.

“We wait,” I said, echoing the spymaster. “Though I need to go back to Blackthorn early in the morning.”

Tom looked at me dubiously. “How early?”

“First light.”

“Oh, come on. Why?”

“I want to check on Simon.”

“I thought Lord Walsingham said you were supposed to wait for something to happen.”

“He did. He just didn’t say wait here.”

Tom groaned. He was already sore from riding around all day, to say nothing of the fights in Saint Paul’s and the Berkshire House cellar. He’d been hoping to sleep in.

“You don’t have to go,” I told him.

“Of course he does,” Sally said. “After what happened at the cathedral? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“We won’t be long,” I promised him. “It’s not just about Simon, anyway. I still need to gather Master Benedict’s journals for Isaac.” I’d hoped to take them to Isaac myself, but there were too many books to carry by horse, which meant I’d need a cart or carriage. That would take a lot longer to move through the city’s traffic. And that really was pushing the whole waiting thing too far.

“I’ll take care of the journals,” Sally said.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all. I’ll take a carriage from Berkshire House. Just set the books out in the shop before you leave. I was thinking of visiting Isaac, anyway.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. I like him—he’s a sweet old man. Funny, too, once you get to know him. He needs someone to look after him, and I have the time. Nothing but time, really.” She looked away, hesitating. “Besides, I know how much he means to you.”

I studied her for a moment, remembering what Tom had said he wanted in a wife. A kind girl, who’d make a kind home.

She looked so pretty in the torchlight.

“Thank you,” I said, and she left for the night. I avoided Tom’s grin all the way back to our room.

Tired of lying in bed and not sleeping, I decided to go back to Blackthorn early, before the sun rose. Tom woke as I stuck my pistols in my belt.

“Hnh? Wazzuh ngh?” he said.

“Time to go.”

“Mnnnghh,” he said, but he did get up. Bleary-eyed, he followed me to the stables. Even the groom on duty was snoozing, sitting on a barrel, slumped against a post.