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“Aye. You see, our dear friend, the king, led by his pernicious little paramour, Castlemaine, happened to go to Miss Stuart’s apartments on an unannounced visit one morning when she had deliberately stayed in late claiming an illness.

You can imagine the good king’s shock at finding the young lady not at all ill, but en déshabillé , and in the company of none other than the Duke of Richmond, who was sitting at the edge of her bed. ”

Rolfe rolled his eyes. “I’m surprised the king’s outrage wasn’t heard all throughout the city. To have had Richmond win her over before him must have been quite a blow to Charles’s pride. He congratulates himself on winning over any wench he so chooses.”

Dante agreed. “Suffice it to say that Richmond won’t be occupying his suites at Whitehall for the foreseeable future.

He’s been banished from court, and from the city, while the little lady remains, though most unhappily.

I, who could never see my way through to standing in the way of true love, have assumed the duty of delivering the lovesick Richmond’s letters to the lady’s fair hand each day. ”

He removed a letter sealed with red wax from his coat pocket.

Rolfe shook his head as he opened the front door onto the street.

“And you wonder why I prefer the solitude of the countryside in Sussex to all these court machinations. I would lose my way just trying to keep up with your bed partners. I am glad to hear you are not intent on adding this particular lady to your collection. Still, I would repeat my warning, Dante. Tread carefully. A king’s temper is never a good thing to provoke. ”

Dante grinned. “I vaguely remember giving you the same advice not too long ago.”

“Mine was an entirely different situation.”

“Oh, before I forget,” Dante added. “I’ve been asked to convey a message to you, from yet another beautiful woman whom we are both enamored of, one with hair redder than fire, and a temper to match.”

Rolfe smiled, knowing immediately who he spoke of. “And the message is?”

“Mara says to tell you that you had better think twice before leaving the city without paying a visit to her and Hadrian. Something about setting that termagant of a maid of hers to placing an Irish curse on you that will cause you to lose all your hair.”

Rolfe laughed out loud. “Point taken.”

“You’ve been duly warned, my friend.”

After Dante had gone and Rolfe had taken the time to mull over all he’d learned, he decided it was time to have another talk with Cassia.

He wanted to apologize for his forward behavior when he had kissed her, and he also wanted to ask her opinions about Geoffrey, the repudiated heir, who Rolfe now believed to be the foremost suspect in Lord Seagrave’s murder.

Rolfe found her sitting at a small table in the parlor, her eyes narrowed in focus as her hand moved furiously over her sketching paper.

He cleared his throat, waiting as she looked up at him. “I should like to apologize to you for my behavior earlier, my lady.”

He noticed that Cassia quickly turned the drawing over to shield it from his view before responding. “Behavior? I’m not sure I know what you speak of, Lord Ravenscroft?”

Rolfe gathered that she intended to pretend that none of it had happened.

“Perhaps I should refresh your memory, Lady Cassia. I was referring to when I had kissed you in your father’s study not a half hour ago.”

“Oh, that,” she shrugged. “Think nothing of it.”

Rolfe frowned. Obviously she had thought nothing of it. He didn’t know whether to be offended or relieved.

He stepped further into the room. “I have been thinking about some things, Lady Cassia, in hopes of finding a way to prove your innocence.”

Cassia regarded him. “I have been thinking as well, Lord Ravenscroft, and I have come to the conclusion that you really needn’t concern yourself with my father’s murder any longer. At the risk of sounding rude, it is my problem, and I will find a way to handle it myself, thank you.”

A polite dismissal, he had to admit, but a dismissal nonetheless.

“Please, hear me out a moment. From your father’s letter to you, it would seem he had a notion someone might attempt to bring him to an early demise.”

Cassia sighed. “I guess, if one wanted to interpret it that way. But I do not see what matter this has. Without this document he mentions, we have no proof.”

“Humor me a moment, if you will.” Rolfe sat down in the chair across from her. “Did your father have any enemies that you are aware of?”

Cassia set the charcoal aside. Ah, he thought, finally her interest was beginning to spark.

“Due to the nature of his duties in the office of the Lord Chancellor, and being the closest assistant to Edward Hyde, Lord Clarendon, it could be said that my father was not on the best of terms with any number of the people at court. As I’m sure you are aware, Lord Clarendon is not a very popular figure. ”

“Yes, but what has that to do with your father?”

“A majority of my father’s duties in his work dealt with whether or not to bring petitions being made to the Crown before the king for his consideration.”

Rolfe leaned forward. “Wouldn’t that be a duty more befitting the king?”

“Not necessarily. Just because one wishes to petition the king for approval on something or another, it doesn’t necessarily mean it will ever see his eyes.”

“So, in essence, it was up to Lord Clarendon, and consequently, your father to give these petitions a first approval, if you will?”

“Yes, as a manner of weeding through and bringing only those petitions worthy of the king’s consideration before him.

Otherwise, if King Charles had to address every one of them himself, being that they are so numerous, His Majesty would be spending every minute of his day seeing to the petitions being brought forward, and he would not have time for other things. ”

Such as visiting the beds of his many mistresses—yours included, Rolfe thought. He quickly pushed that thought aside. “Did your father ever discuss any of his business with you?”

“No.” And then she added firmly, “Never.”

“So you would not be privy to any petitions that he may have rejected, thereby earning him a potential enemy.”

Cassia cocked her head to the side, thinking.

“Not necessarily. You see, in addition to those duties, Lord Clarendon also had final word on even those petitions His Majesty did see fit to grant. Should he deem it, Lord Clarendon could make certain that the parchment certain petitions were written on would yellow with age before they would ever receive the final stamp of the Great Seal of England for approval. Without that seal, even with the king’s approval, the petition would be worthless.

My position at court did give me the advantage of hearing much of the court gossip.

There were a few petitions set forth by certain individuals that it was publicly known would never see the seal pressed upon them. One person in particular stands out.”

“And that person is?”

“Lady Castlemaine. You see, Lord Clarendon bears a great dislike for her. He has made it known that any patent bearing her name will never see the seal upon it so long as he has the means to prevent it. It is a game he plays with her, and from what I hear, he enjoys it quite well. Lady Castlemaine puts forth a great deal of effort trying to convince the king to grant her requests, numerous requests I might add, but when each one of them comes down for the seal, it is filed away, never to see the light of day again.”

“I would imagine this is most displeasing to her.”

“That, sir, is putting it mildly. She somehow managed to circumvent Lord Clarendon when her grant for the title of Castlemaine came through, and that was a matter of great consternation to him. So since then, every one of her petitions has been stopped at the seal. And as Lady Castlemaine is all too aware, a title will not pay the creditors. Only property and money will, but as long as Lord Clarendon continues with his policy against her, it would appear she will not be gaining any more of either.”

Rolfe considered this. “Why wouldn’t she just wait until Clarendon in no longer Lord Chancellor?”

“Lady Castlemaine would be a fool not to realize that her time as Whitehall’s uncrowned queen has an expiration date.

Faith, with the arrival of Frances Stuart and the king’s interest in her, Barbara’s appeal in the king’s bed has already begun to wane.

One thing she cannot stop is time, and with time comes age, and unfortunately for ladies, with age goes beauty.

Lady Castlemaine can be called many things, but one thing is for certain, she is no fool.

She has been pressing the king for some time for a grant on a piece of profitable property that will keep her in silk dresses long after she is inevitably succeeded in his affections. She wants Nonsuch.”

Rolfe looked at her. “The royal palace?”

Cassia nodded. “What better place for the woman who considers herself queen?”

Nonsuch was a grand and magnificent Tudor palace that had begun construction in the thirtieth year of the reign of Henry the VIII.

Meant to symbolize the power and glory of the Tudor Dynasty, it was called thusly because there would be “no such palace elsewhere equal to it in magnificence.” Coupled to it were extensive grounds of the finest hunting forests England had to offer. It was worth a veritable fortune.

“So, even were Lady Castlemaine to wheedle such a property from the king, it would be useless to her unless Clarendon set the final seal. Quite simply put, the grant would not be granted.”