The Princess of Denmark Read Online Free Page A

a bottle of sack. Will said that he’d like to drink some more and smoke a pipe of tobacco before he went to sleep.’
    ‘A pipe?’
    ‘That might be the explanation, Nick.’
    ‘Indeed, it might.’
    ‘How he managed to light it, God knows, for he was as drunk as a lord. As soon as his head touched the pillow, he was asleep.’
    ‘He must have come awake again,’ decided Nicholas, ‘and tried to smoke a pipe. Will Dunmow would not be the first man to doze off and start a fire unwittingly with burning tobacco.’
    ‘An expensive mistake. He paid for it with his life.’
    ‘Take him to the coroner, Owen. Describe what happened here and tell him that we know precious little about Will Dunmow apart from his name and his generosity. I’ll carry on here.’
    ‘Not for a while, Nick,’ said Elias as he saw two figures walking across the yard. ‘You have company.’
    Nicholas looked up to see Anne Hendrik and Preben van Loew heading towards him. They were looking aroundwith dismay. Elias stayed long enough to exchange greetings with them before driving the body away in the cart. Anne was horrified by the amount of damage.
    ‘What happened?’ she asked.
    ‘We are not certain,’ replied Nicholas, ‘and never will be, alas. But we think someone started the fire when he fell asleep with a pipe of tobacco still burning. He died in the blaze. Owen is just taking him to the coroner.’
    ‘We expected to find you rehearsing today’s play.’
    ‘Out of the question, Anne.’
    ‘So I see.’
    ‘It will be next spring at least before we return to the Queen’s Head. The landlord would rather that we never came back.’ He glanced at the bandaging around the old Dutchman’s head. ‘But enough of our troubles. Preben seems to have encountered some of his own. I thought you both went to the churchyard this morning.’
    ‘We did, Nicholas,’ he said somnolently. ‘There was another vicious attack on strangers, I fear.’
    ‘It was on the wall,’ said Anne. ‘When Preben took it down, he was hit on the head by a stone. We did not see who threw it. It was a bad wound. We had to find a surgeon to dress it.’
    Nicholas was sympathetic. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Another libel, you say? That’s bad. Let’s stand aside,’ he said, moving them away from the noise of the clearance work behind him. ‘Now – tell me all.’
     
    Lord Westfield gazed in wonder at the miniature then let out a cry of delight. Holding the portrait to his lips, he placed a gentle kiss on it.
    ‘I love her already!’ he announced. ‘What is her name?’
    ‘Sigbrit, my lord,’ said his companion. ‘Sigbrit Olsen.’
    ‘A beautiful name for a beautiful lady.’
    ‘That miniature was painted only last year.’
    ‘And is she as comely in the flesh?’
    ‘I’ve every reason to think so,’ said Rolfe Harling. ‘I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting her yet but, when I spoke with her uncle in Copenhagen, he could not praise her enough. He described his niece as a jewel among women.’
    ‘I can see that, Rolfe. The creature
dazzles
.’
    Lord Westfield was so enraptured by the portrait that he could not take his eyes off it. Framed by silken blonde hair, Sigbrit Olsen had a face that combined beauty, dignity and youthfulness. Her skin seemed to glow. Lord Westfield pressed for details.
    ‘How old is she?’
    ‘Twenty-two.’
    ‘Less than half my age.’
    ‘Such a wife would take years off you, my lord.’
    ‘That’s my hope. Has she been married?’
    ‘Only once,’ stressed Harling, ‘and her husband died in an accident soon after the wedding. There was no issue. At first, she was overcome with grief. After a decent interval of mourning, however, she is now ready to start her life afresh and she prefers to do it abroad. Denmark has too many unhappy memories for her.’
    ‘Then I must take her away from them.’
    ‘That would be viewed as a blessing, my lord.’
    ‘By me as well as by her.’
    He kissed the portrait again.