Chapter 268: I Would Think Not
"I would think not, my lady. You are, so far, the most intelligent mistress His Majesty has had." Hartwell said.
Livia smiled fully then. "You flatter me, my good man."
"I speak only the truth."
Livia leaned a little closer to the librarian’s desk and, with deliberate mischief, fluttered her lashes at him.
Master Hartwell flushed to the tips of his ears. "So..." Hartwell said, visibly struggling to recover his dignity, "what do you need?"
"I need to know which clerks in Whitehall can mimic handwriting."
His eyes brightened with a very different kind of excitement. "Oh....There are quite a few."
Lionel stepped nearer. "Quite a few?"
"Yes, my lord. Some are trained to copy official hands for clean duplicates, some imitate older records for restoration, and some are merely vain little creatures."
"I want the best of the best," Livia said. "Specifically, the ones you believe could copy the king’s hand well enough to deceive a man like Lord Langford."
Hartwell’s fingers tapped once against the desk. "Lord Langford is not easily deceived."
"No," Livia said. "Which means whoever wrote that order was very skilled."
Master Hartwell looked between them, and some of his cheer dimmed into concern. "My lady, if a royal order has been falsified, this is not merely mischief."
"No," Livia said. "It is treason."
Hartwell lowered himself back into his chair. "His Majesty writes less than people imagine. Much is drafted by clerks and reviewed or sealed by him. Still, his private hand is known to those who handle his notes, marginal instructions, corrections to drafts, and personal orders. Or one could simply give a clerk a note written by the king himself and he could copy the flair."
"Names," Lionel said.
Hartwell glanced at him. "I shall make a list."
"Not every clerk," Livia said gently. "Only the most capable."
"There are three I would begin with," he said.
Livia turned towards the shelves. "I shall browse while you give Lord Ashcroft that list."
"Of course, my lady. Anything for you."
"Where would I be without you?" she asked, laying on the charm with shamelessness. "Ignorant, of course."
Master Hartwell’s blush returned at full strength. Lionel’s face tightened in visible agony. Women, he thought, with the despair of a man watching charm accomplish in two minutes what interrogation might have failed to do in two days.
Hartwell giggled like a little boy as he scrambled for parchment and ink. A few minutes later, he finished the list. He sanded the ink then blew gently across the parchment, his face bright with satisfaction.
Lionel took the parchment from him and read the names quickly. There were four in total. He folded the parchment and tucked it inside his doublet. "You have my thanks, Master Hartwell."
Hartwell looked pleased enough to be knighted. "Of course, my lord."
Lionel turned towards the shelves and walked into the rows in search of Livia. It did not take long to find her. She stood between two tall cases, already holding five books against her chest. "We are done."
Livia looked over the top of the books and nodded. She carried them back to the desk and laid them before Hartwell. The librarian immediately leaned forward to inspect the titles, and his smile widened with every spine.
"A bold selection, my lady."
Livia placed one hand lightly on the desk and gave him a look so sweet that Lionel nearly turned away. "Pretty please, may I have these copied?"
Master Hartwell’s ears reddened. "Anything for you, my lady."
"You are a treasure. A handsome one too."
Hartwell’s spectacles slipped slightly down his nose. Livia gave Hartwell one final, sinfully flirtatious smile, then turned and headed for the door.
Lionel followed. Once they were back in the corridor, he waited until the library door closed behind them before speaking. "Is that the charm you laid on His Majesty and His Grace? Simple men," he mused.
"I wish I had tried that hard." Her voice turned light, but there was a wicked edge beneath it. "If you are not careful, I shall lay the same charm on you and turn it up a great deal more."
He looked at her with sincere horror. "I see you wish to see me dead in the most torturous manner possible."
Despite herself, Livia laughed. Lionel felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease. Since Bella’s death, Livia’s laughter had become a rare thing. Hearing it now felt almost like proof that Theodora had not taken everything.
Then Livia stopped abruptly. The humour left her face so quickly that Lionel regretted speaking.
"Is death the sentence for what you did?" she asked.
"Yes."
She searched his face. "For giving Jane’s warning to Her Grace?"
"For giving information to the king’s mother that may have aided an attempt on the life of a woman under His Majesty’s protection."
Livia looked away. The bluntness disturbed her. Lionel had not begged forgiveness since telling her the truth. "And Her Grace?" she asked.
"Sadly, the matter is not so simple. She is the king’s mother. She is Her Grace, the dowager queen. If His Majesty chooses banishment, or some private punishment, few men will have the courage to challenge him."
Livia’s eyes darkened. "So she cannot be sentenced to death?"
"She can, but not easily. Her Grace knows the law well enough to stand just outside the flame."
"And what if she harms a royal?"
"Did she?" he asked carefully.
Livia turned her head towards him. Her face revealed nothing. "Just answer the question, Lionel."
"If Her Grace were proven to have harmed a member of the royal family, or knowingly plotted against one, the charge would be high treason. The sentence would be death, unless His Majesty chose mercy, and even then the council and the Church would have reason to press the matter."
Livia’s fingers tightened slightly around the edge of her shawl. "A royal."
"Miss Valenti?" Lionel said.
"Nothing." She began walking again, her head lifted, the shawl drawn tightly around her shoulders. She was not running. She was not surrendering to Theodora’s game. She was searching now.
Lionel fell into step beside her. If someone in Whitehall had that letter Tabitha had told her about, then she had to find it. What she did not know was where to start.
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