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“Yours?” Cordelia said. “You assisted in this—”
“Rescue of puppies,” Lucy finished. “And let’s not talk about it where others can hear.”
Cordelia released a long breath. Turning to Greer she crossed her arms over her chest. “I assume you also have a name?”
Cordelia’s gaze slid down the Highlander. Lucy couldn’t fault her. Despite the lack of refinement, Greer Buchanan was riveting, with his obvious strength, chiseled features, and the most intense gray eyes.
“Greer Buchanan from Edinburgh, here on royal business,” Lucy said quickly. “Master Buchanan, this is my sister, Lady Cordelia.” She linked her arm with her sister’s, hopefully distracting her from correcting her name. She should be called Lady Cranfield.
Cordelia frowned. “Another Scotsman’s come to court.” She tipped her head as she studied him. “The last one stole away our closest friend.”
Greer frowned. “Stole away?”
“By choice,” Lucy said. “Maggie Darby and Kerr Gordon are now wed and living in your northern country, with one daughter already born.”
“Ho now, who is this?” Lord Leister’s voice stiffened Lucy’s back. There would be no sneaking up to her room to change before she was seen. She turned to Lord Leister and Lord Walsingham standing in the doorway. The two men were dressed in regal court clothes with ruffs about their necks. Their slender builds made them seem tall except when they stood near Greer Buchanan, who towered over them.
“Lord Walsingham, Lord Leicester, this is Master Buchanan from Lord Moray at the Edinburgh court,” she introduced once again. “We met near London Bridge today, and I guided him here.”
“You met in the streets?” Walsingham asked, clearly suspicious.
Sir William Cecil, Lord Burghley, a portly man of the highest rank, walked out, slowing to listen to Walsingham’s question.
“Yes,” Lucy said. She and Cordelia gave slight curtseys to the older man, who was Queen Elizabeth’s chief advisor.
“On London Bridge,” Lucy continued.
“On or before London Bridge?” Walsingham asked.
“Before actually,” she said.
Walsingham tugged slightly on the curled tip of his mustache. “Interesting. A runner just brought me news of a criminal releasing all the hounds at the Bear Garden.”
“And the cocks,” Robert Leister, Lord Leister added. “’Twill ruin my bets placed for Saint Stephan’s Day.”
Lucy gasped softly. “Were the dogs stolen?” She held her hand to her chest in a look of dismay that was quite accurate. If she were caught lying, it would be another strike against her. Apart from her mother’s treason, Lucy had been caught sneaking food and half-used candles out to the poor, as well as being seen attending plays performed at the Boar’s Head Inn. Walsingham could use this latest incident as a reason to expel her and Cordelia from court. At the very least, Lucy would likely lose the two pups hiding in the stables.
“Are the destitute so hungry that they would eat a dog?” She looked to Cordelia.
Walsingham pinched the other side of his mustache. “Many were rounded up, and we anticipate the rest will return on their own for the evening feeding. Her Majesty’s animals are all fed exceedingly well.”
Walsingham was known as Elizabeth’s spy master and was talented at reading lies. Therefore, it was best to jump in with both feet instead of trying to hide from him. Lucy stared up into his black eyes. “Do they have a suspect? For they should be punished for endangering those poor creatures. Out on their own, anything could befall them. The poor may resort to eating them.”
Leister cleared his throat. “An odd lad with red hair, one blue eye and one brown eye, and a dark mark on his cheek.”
“Sounds like witchcraft,” Cordelia said, and her glance to Lucy told her that her sister knew full well that Lucy was responsible.
“What interesting clothes you’re wearing, milady,” Lord Walsingham said.
A blush infused Lucy’s cheeks. “I was feeding the poor on the bridge. ’Tis the eve of Christmas after all, and I would not see anyone go hungry. My pockets are safer from being pinched wearing these rags.”
Walsingham’s gaze swept over to Greer. “The runner said you, Master Buchanan, were there at the Bear Garden with a woman.” His gaze swung back to Lucy. “And I know you have a fondness for dogs.”
“Any animal actually,” Lucy said. “Although I have never had much exposure to reptiles. And rats are vicious, so I stay well away.”
Walsingham waited, but the silence continued. “That wasn’t an answer.”
Lucy’s brows pinched. “To what question?”
