'That is sad.' I realized she probably meant Marchamount. She had not noticed I had seen them together. I felt guilty for my spying.
'Yes, it is.' She smiled again. 'But you, I think, are more than a mere money grubber. You have a look of inner care that does not go with such preoccupations.'
I laughed. 'Perhaps. You see much, Lady Honor.'
'Not always as much as I should.' She was silent a moment. 'I hear a friend of yours gave the Duke of Norfolk some hard words yesterday. He must be very brave or very foolish.'
'How did you hear that?'
She smiled. 'I have my sources.' Probably Marchamount, I thought. She liked to be mysterious, it seemed.
'Perhaps both brave
She laughed. 'Can one be both?'
'I think so. Godfrey is a strong evangelical.'
'And you? If you are Lord Cromwell's man you must be a reformer.'
I looked out over the darkening courtyard. 'When I was young I was in thrall to the writings of Erasmus. I loved his picture of a peaceful commonwealth where men worshipped in good fellowship, the abuses of the old Church gone.'
'I too was much taken with Erasmus once,' she said. 'Yet it did not turn out as he hoped, did it? Martin Luther began his violent attacks on the Church and Germany was flooded with anarchy.'
I nodded. 'Erasmus would never comment on Luther, for or against him. That always puzzled me.'
'I think he was too shocked at what was happening. Poor Erasmus.' She laughed sadly. 'He was much given to quoting St John chapter six, was he not? "The Spirit gives life, but the flesh is of no use." But men are ruled by their passions and always will be. And will take any chance to overthrow authority. Thus those who think humankind can be perfected by mere reason are always disappointed.'
'That is a bleak message,' I replied sombrely.
She turned to me. 'I am sorry, I am in a melancholy humour tonight. You must excuse me. You have probably come in to work, like those fellows I see hunched over their candles through the windows. I distract you.'
'A welcome distraction.' She inclined her head and smiled at the compliment. I hesitated, then went on. 'Lady Honor, there is something I must ask you-'
She raised a hand. 'I know. I have been waiting for you to raise the matter. But please, not tonight. I am tired and out of sorts, and due back home.' She looked at me seriously. 'I hear he is dead. Michael Gristwood. And his brother. Gabriel told me, he said you would be coming.'
'Both murdered.'
She raised a hand. 'I know. But I cannot deal with that tonight.'
'That is your coach by the gate?'
'It is.' She looked at me seriously. 'Tomorrow, Master Shardlake, we shall talk. I promise.'
I should have pressed her, but only got up and bowed as she rose and walked gracefully to the gate, her wide dress brushing the cobbles. I turned and made for my chambers, where I saw a light burned in Godfrey's window.
My friend sat at his desk, frowning over the papers in one of my cases. Moths fluttered around the candle on his desk, burning their wings as the poor silly creatures always do. Godfrey's fair hair was sticking up where he had run his hands through it and he wore little round reading glasses that gave him an aged, scholarly look.
I smiled. 'Godfrey, are you labouring this late on my account?'
'Ay, but of my own will. I welcome the distraction.' He sighed. 'I learned today I am to go before the treasurer himself to account for my conduct. I expect a heavy fine.' He smiled sadly. 'So this extra work of yours will be useful. I do wish Skelly could put papers in proper order, though. He tries, poor fellow, but somehow he can get nothing right.'
'It was dangerous to bait the Duke of Norfolk,' I told him seriously.
His glasses flashed in the candlelight as he shook his head. 'I did not bait him. I spoke up for God's Word. Is that a crime?'
'It depends on how you do it. Some who do it wrongly have ended in the fire.'
His face set. 'What is half an hour of agony against eternal bliss?'
'Easy to say.'
He sighed, his shoulders slumping. 'I know. Another evangelical preacher was arrested yesterday. I wonder if I would have the stomach for the fire. I went to John Lambert's burning, do you remember?'
'Ay.' I remembered Barak talking of Lambert's proud martyr's demeanour.
'I went to fortify myself by watching his courage. And he was as brave as a man could be. Yet it was an awful thing.'
'It is always awful.'
'I remember a breeze got up, blew terrible greasy smuts at the crowd. Lambert was dead by then. Yet some deserve it,' he said with a sudden flash of anger. 'I watched Friar Forest burn too, the papist renegade.' He clenched his fists. 'The blood sweated from his body till his soul fell down to hell. Sometimes it is necessary. The papists will
