“It’s also been reliably said that Lord Granville has questioned Cromwell’s motives in waging this war. That’s not an accusation to make lightly.”

That was a master stroke, Brian reckoned. He’d heard two troopers discussing the rumor the previous evening, when tongues were running loose over jugs of ale around the brazier in the stable yard. It might or might not be true, but it was still powerful fuel to the fire he was building here.

Phoebe measured herbs into the mortar and took up the pestle. She said nothing as she worked, and the rich aroma of crushed juniper, thyme, and lovage filled the stillroom. Brian’s words had the ring of truth, but she was mindful of Meg’s warning and determined to tread lightly.

“Do you think your husband would listen to you?” Brian asked into the fragrant silence.

“No. He considers his affairs to be solely his preserve.”

Brian nodded in silent satisfaction as he heard the disgruntled note. He was on the right track. “Perhaps there’s a way around that,” he mused, watching her profile from beneath lowered lids.

“What way?”

“Well, if Lord Granville refuses to see any need to convince his own party of his loyalty, perhaps his true friends should convince them for him.”

Phoebe turned slowly, the pestle still in her hand. “What do you mean?”

Brian appeared to ponder the question for a minute, then he said consideringly, “I’m thinking that if someone sent a document to Parliament under the Granville seal… something that proves Cato’s loyalty conclusively. That would be one way. But one would need access to his seal, of course…”

Phoebe frowned. “What kind of a document?”

“A piece of information from the king’s camp,” Brian said promptly.

“And where would we get that?”

“I would supply it.” Brian pursed his lips. “The king is going to seek help from the Scots. But to get it, he must make certain promises. I have conclusive proof that he’ll not keep those promises. If the Scots knew that, then they’d hand the king over to Parliament. If Cato provides Parliament with that information, his loyalty and commitment would go unquestioned.”

Phoebe shook her head. This was too much to take in. She felt utterly out of her depth. She knew that Brian had been supplying Parliament with information from the king’s camp, but how could he know so much about Parliament’s affairs? But then, he was right. What did she know of the devious workings of a spy?

One issue, however, seemed simple enough. “But why don’t you give this information to Cato yourself? Then he can put to rest any suspicions himself.”

“You really aren’t much of a conspirator, are you?” Brian’s smile was almost pitying. He laid a hand on her shoulder. “Let us be a little more devious here, Phoebe. I had thought to kill two birds with one stone. You feel excluded from his life, don’t you?” His little eyes gazed intently into her own.

“I know how difficult that is, because I know how he holds himself apart from those who love him. He did it with my mother, and he’s always done it with me. I would help you change that. If he once sees how capable you are, and how ready and willing to help him, to partner him, then he might change the habits that hurt so many people. Think about it.”

Every word he spoke was true. It was what Meg had said too. She had to show Cato what she could do.

“You have this document? This proof of the king’s intentions?” she asked slowly.

Brian nodded. “Of course, I could simply take it to Parliament myself and thus prove my own loyalty beyond question, but it hurts that Cato won’t trust me. I’m his heir, after all.”

He looked closely at her as he said this, and noticed the faint color blooming on her cheekbones, a slight quiver of her full mouth.

“Until, of course, you give him a son,” he added with a tiny smile. “Forgive the indelicacy, but it is a matter of some interest to me.”

“Yes,” Phoebe agreed. “I suppose it is.”

Brian waited a heartbeat to see if she would say anything else, give him some clue as to whether she was carrying a child already, but she did not and he continued as if the previous exchange had never occurred. “So from my own point of view, this rather more devious approach might give him a reason to be grateful to me as well as to you.”

It seemed to make sense. Phoebe had seen the constraint between Cato and his stepson, although Cato never referred directly to it. And the idea that Brian had his own motives for helping her was somehow reassuring. Total lack of self-interest, she thought, would have been suspicious.

“How do we do this, then?” Now she made no attempt to disguise her eagerness.

“We have to be able to use Cato’s seal, as I said. The document must bear his seal, otherwise there’ll be no proof that it comes from him.”

“He seals things with his ring sometimes,” Phoebe said slowly. “But he never takes it off.”

“True, but he also has the big Granville seal. He keeps it locked in the drawer of the table in his study.” Brian watched her through narrowed eyes. He had her now. The unwitting architect of her husband’s downfall.

“If it’s locked away, I can’t see it’s much use to us,” Phoebe pointed out.

Dear God, the innocent! “We have to get it,” he said patiently. “We have to get the key and borrow the seal. Affix it to the document, send the document to Cromwell.”

Phoebe just looked at him in blank amazement. “That would be stealing,” she said.

“Borrowing,” Brian corrected as patiently as before. “Not stealing, but borrowing. And just for a very few minutes. He’ll never know, or at least not until all the good has been done and you can explain it all to him.”

“You don’t think he’d be angry at my borrowing his seal?” Phoebe demanded incredulously.

“Perhaps a little,” Brian conceded. “But the end justifies the means. He’ll see that. He’s a reasonable man, just rather stubborn about certain things.” His expression became very grave again.

“I don’t know how to convince you of how serious the situation is, Phoebe. If the high command decide Cato has betrayed them by letting the king slip, he’ll be destroyed.” He thumped a fist into the palm of his other hand. “It’s so frustrating, because he refuses to acknowledge the seriousness of it. He can’t see why anyone would question his loyalty.”

“Well, neither can I,” Phoebe said tartly.

“But they are questioning it.”

Phoebe bit her lip. She knew it was true. However absurd it was. And Cato’s careless dismissal was not helping matters. She’d heard the unspoken criticism in Giles Crampton’s responses yesterday.

“Cato keeps his keys on his belt.” Brian pressed his advantage as he saw her hesitation. “At night you could borrow them. Press them into a ball of wax, and I can have copies made very easily. Then we unlock the drawer and borrow the seal… just for a minute.”

“Where’s this document?” Phoebe asked. She was still unsure. It was all so smooth and convincing and sounded so easy. But it was also wrong! She couldn’t imagine stealing Cato’s keys while he slept. It was so… so impossibly wrong.

“Among my private papers.”

“Well, I’d have to see it before I agreed to anything,” Phoebe stated. “Maybe, as you say, the end justifies the means, but I want to see what that end is.”

Every time he thought he’d got her, she wriggled away again. Every time he thought he understood how to manipulate her, she suddenly threw an obstacle in the way. Naive one minute and infuriatingly down-to-earth the next. He had to learn never to take her responses for granted. She was unpredictable and definitely not the easy mark she appeared.

He wanted this business over and done with. He wanted to see Cato in the dust. He wanted to see him dead. He wanted to see himself the legal owner of title and possessions. And then he would find some way to deal with this odd, troublesome creature. She was an untidy, ramshackle apology for a woman, and yet she had this peculiar potential. Every time he looked at her, he saw it. He couldn’t understand where it came from.