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“It would seem obvious. Lord Yourstone is searching for the grave of Arthur.” Mathews motioned with his cane toward Goulding. “Tell him what the cauldron says of Arthur’s final resting place.”
“According to the plates on the ceremonial vessel, Arthur’s body was taken to Iceland. There he was buried, safe from Saxons. The bodies at Glastonbury were decoys, and the monks knew that, which might explain why they kept the discovery secret for so long.”
“What makes Arthur so important now?”
“It’s a matter of history,” Mathews said. “So many kings have tried to make the connection. Edward I called himself Arthurus Redivivus—Arthur Returned. Centuries later, Henry VIII’s aim was to eliminate everything Catholic, so he destroyed all of the monasteries, including Glastonbury. Yet even Henry possessed an emotional attachment. His older brother, who should have inherited the throne, was named Arthur, but he died before being crowned. Henry VII, the first Tudor king, was intent on using the Arthurian legend to solidify his family’s claim to the throne.”
“In the 13th century, King John did the same thing,” Goulding said. “He killed his nephew, Arthur, who should have succeeded to the throne. John’s father, Henry II, was obsessed with Arthur and wanted his successor to bear the name. Henry II was the first monarch to unite France and England under one crown—save, of course, Arthur himself, if legend is to be believed. The French took pride from their connection to Charlemagne, but Arthur’s heritage was even older. John’s murder of the heir apparent stopped any unification, and France was forever lost.”
Malone sat forward in his chair. “Yourstone is trying the same thing?”
“Precisely,” Mathews said. “He wants to use English tradition to his favor—and what better way than through Arthur?”
“To what end?”
“To make Eleanor, his daughter-in-law, queen.”
Yourstone left the palace through a rear entrance and marched directly to his waiting Bentley. Victoria had kept the contingent from the House of Lords busy, discussing in detail the prospect of any legislative changes to the monarchy. The men around the table had assured her nothing would receive the necessary majority from their side of Parliament, and she’d been pleased with their confidence. His misgivings about the queen and her husband had faded over the course of the two hours, yet the entire purpose of the gathering continued to bother him.
He climbed into the Bentley and cautioned himself against paranoia. Within the palace only Eleanor was aware of what was happening. Yet there was still Cotton Malone.
Meeting with the queen.
He’d sat patiently listening to the lords and Her Majesty discuss what he knew to be a moot issue. There was no way he would ever allow changes to the monarchy, besides ones he’d already contemplated that would strengthen rather than weaken the institution.
The House of Yourstone would not begin business with a deficit.
“Back home,” he told his driver.
The car motored from the palace.
Malone considered what Thomas Mathews had just said and noted, “Eleanor is third in line to the throne.”
“I am aware of that. Her brother and nephew come before her. But Richard has been the subject of brutal attacks by the press. He has virtually no public image. We now know that Nigel Yourstone has been orchestrating those attacks.”
“And you haven’t bothered to tell the queen?”
“That would be problematic. There is no way to maintain a secret within Buckingham Palace. In order to stop this, we must have total secrecy.”
“So you think Yourstone is trying to prevent Richard from becoming king?”
“There is no doubt. And that will not be difficult. Richard could easily be primed to abdicate. Which is precisely what Yourstone is planning.”
“And my visit to Yourstone compromised all of that?”
Mathews nodded. “He now knows that someone is watching.”
But none of that was Malone’s fault. He hadn’t asked to be involved and had been thrust into this fight with little to no information. He was only doing what the queen of England and Stephanie Nelle had asked him to do.
“Cotton, I don’t want to overdramatize the situation, but Yourstone and Eleanor are plotting the death of Albert. With Albert dead and Richard abdicating, Eleanor is queen.”
He decided to tell Mathews the rest of the bad news. “There’s been a meeting of several lords at Buckingham Palace, which is surely over by now. Yourstone was there.”
And he explained more.
“I have to check with my people,” Mathews said, when he finished. “Assess the damage.”
Malone looked at Goulding. “While he does that, I need to use your phone.”
“Mr. Malone, you are saying my daughter is plotting regicide.”
The queen’s voice cracked with emotion.
He’d called William at the palace and told him he needed to speak with Victoria immediately. Mathews had okayed the call, provided no mention was made of him or his agency’s involvement.
“Malone’s right,” James said through the speakerphone. “You heard Yourstone earlier. He told us there are precious few secrets in this world. But I believe we have just confirmed one.”
Malone listened as they explained what happened at the meeting.
“What do we do now?” Victoria asked.
“At least Yourstone knows we’re watching. It might slow him down.”
“Why not just arrest him?” James asked him.
“We have no proof. Talk about a PR disaster. You’d have a giant one. It’s too early for that. But security on Albert should be tightened. Perhaps a retreat to an estate for a few days. That’ll make him easier to protect.”
“He has some previously scheduled duties for today,” William said.
“Finish them. Then change his schedule.”
“And what of our daughter?” Victoria asked.
“Keep her isolated. Do nothing to alert her suspicion.”
“And Richard?”
“He’s not a player, until Albert is dead. Since that isn’t going to happen, just let him be.”
“You sound confident,” the queen said.
“I am.”
“And what of Yourstone?” James asked.
“Leave him to me. No more contact with him, either.”
“I’d prefer to strangle the bloody bastard,” James said.
“You might get your chance, just not at the moment. I’ll be back in touch.”
He ended the call and glanced at Professor Goulding. Mathews was still outside on the phone. “You really believe Arthur is buried in Iceland.”
“With what we already know, combined with what Yourstone uncovered, I think he is.”
“Can the grave be found?”
Goulding nodded.
CHAPTER TEN
Yourstone reentered his London flat. Eleanor had stayed with Richard on the pretense of making sure he was all right. The real purpose was to cement the Prince of Wales’ resolve to abdicate.
Inside, he headed straight for his study and was surprised to find his son waiting for him. Andrew was perched in one of the club chairs that faced the fireplace, nursing a snifter of brandy, appearing quite comfortable.
“I thought you’d be out for the day,” Yourstone said, closing the door and stepping toward his desk. “At the races.”
“Not all that exciting. I decided, instead, that you and I should have a chat.”
He could not imagine what they would have to discuss. They were little more than strangers. About as far apart as a father and son could be. “I’m in a bit of a hurry. Can’t this wait?”
“Afraid not.”
He sat behind the desk and decided to see what the imbecile wanted.
“Do you think, dear Father, that you could stop screwing my wife?”
Not exactly what he expected. But he appreciated his son being direct. “And how would you know that was happening?”
“The staff talks. But don’t bl
ame them. I overheard a private conversation. They have no idea I know. But I’ve had suspicions for some time. Contrary to what you and my lovely wife believe, I’m not stupid. So I’ve been thinking about why you would do such a despicable thing, wondering what precisely you are up to. You’re always up to something, aren’t you?”
“A man without ambition is lost.”
“Is that meant to insult me?”
“It was meant to motivate you.” He decided to see how far his son was willing to go. “Does becoming king of England appeal to you?”
Andrew coolly savored a sip of brandy.
“You don’t seem surprised by the question.”
“Nothing you do surprises me.”
“I intend for our family to rule this nation.”
“Which finally explains why you wanted me to marry the third in line. I wondered the reason you were so keen on the union. Seemed useless to me. But for Eleanor to be queen Richard and Albert both would have to be out of the way.”
No need to voice the obvious. His silence at his son’s speculation was answer enough.
“Impressive,” Andrew said. “I never realized the depth of your passion. You are a grand schemer, and a dangerous one at that.”
