Chapter 8: The Reunion of Spirit and Temperance

"Spirit...it's been so long..." Elizabeth throws herself into his arms. She can't explain how much she's missed him these past years, how his presence fills a space that had been vacant in her life. 

"It has, hasn't it? I would have sought you out earlier, but I was afraid if we socialized, it would give the Hardwicks reason to suspect you were actively involved with the company. I'm sorry we haven't met up sooner." 

"All is forgiven, Spirit."

Of all the people she had left behind, William Cecil was the one she missed the most. He had been one of her few truly close friends at school besides Robert, sharing her bookish nature and genius. Cecil was her intellectual equivalent, someone she could always count on to be able to discuss the latest ideas in philosophy with or from whom she could get an opinion on the latest book. Most importantly, Cecil was honest with her: brutally honest. Cecil was the one friend she had who told her what she needed to hear, not what she wanted to hear. Such friends are rare when one is an heiress. Elizabeth had missed having someone she could go to for a completely honest opinion.

"Spirit, what happened to Edward? Why wouldn't you tell me on the phone?"

Cecil sighs. "It was a necessary precaution. Your phone may be tapped.  Besides, I felt it would be better to discuss this in person."

"Did Walsingham tap my phone?"

"No. He's actually the source of most of my information."

Elizabeth chuckles. Not even the police could keep Francis Walsingham from information he wanted.

"Well, we're here now. Tell me what happened to Edward."

Cecil takes a deep breath. "He died from an allergic reaction to peanuts."

Elizabeth stares at him. "Excuse me?"

"Technically he died from anaphylaxis shock, but it resulted from an allergic reaction caused by ingesting peanuts."

"Spirit, Edward has been allergic to peanuts his entire life. He knew full well not to eat anything that had peanuts or had been in contact with peanuts. His chefs knew, too. That can't be the cause of his death."

"The forensics team examined the remains of Edward's meal," Cecil says gently. "They found a light sprinkling of peanut dust on every dish. The chefs were questioned, but all swear that they did nothing. No peanuts were found in the kitchen or in the garbage. Technicians are viewing the tapes from the surveillance cameras. They've pretty much ruled out an accidental death, as his chefs all knew about the allergy. "

"So if it wasn't an accident," Elizabeth says slowly, "then it was intentional. "You're telling me somebody murdered my brother?"

Cecil nods grimly. "It's looking that way."

"But why?" Elizabeth asks. Her hands have started to shake. "Why would anybody hurt Edward? He just finished school..." She trails off as she tries to come up with a motive for killing her brother.

Cecil takes her hand. "You need something to eat. Let's order something."

The friends change out of their work attire and order food. They eat in silence for awhile, until Cecil finally speaks.

"I can hear the cogs turning in your head, Elizabeth. What are you thinking?"

"I think that the murder scenario doesn't add up, Spirit," she says thoughtfully. "Nobody knew about Edward's allergy except our inner circle. Father made sure of that. Yet, the police don't believe that anybody in that circle is the culprit. How can you murder somebody with peanuts if you don't know about the allergy?"

"Somebody must have found out," Cecil replies.

"But how? Who would have betrayed us?" Elizabeth demands. "Who could have betrayed Edward? He was the kindest, sweetest boy..." She bites her lip, thinking about the pale, skinny boy she said goodbye to years ago.

"They're sweeping his home and office for bugs," Cecil says comfortingly. "Believe me, his case is high-profile, given who he was. No stone will go unturned."

"Which means I can expect the police on my doorstep any day now," Elizabeth says bitterly, stabbing at her cobbler. "The press, too. Invading my privacy."

Cecil pats her hand sympathetically. "You could go back you know," he says quietly. "Go back for a few days, attend the funeral, talk to the police, and then come home. That way the public doesn't have to know where you live."

"The police will want me to stay until the investigation is over. I'm not leaving my family for six weeks to appease the police when I have nothing to do with this."

"Edward was your brother," Cecil says. "Don't you want to find out what happened?"

"Half-brother," Elizabeth snaps. Cecil frowns at the bite in her voice, and she feels guilty. "I'm sorry, Spirit, you know I cared about Edward. Of course I want to find out what happened, and I will cooperate. But I came to Sunset Valley to escape this life. I don't want a life of intrigue, scheming and plots. I want to go to work and not worry that my coworkers are slipping poison in my lunch. I want to come home each night, kiss my husband, snuggle my baby and play with my children. I want to work in my overgrown garden and go on dates with Robert without being photographed. I just know that if I go back I will get sucked into that world again."

"You can run, my friend, but you'll never escape being a Tudor," Cecil replies.

"I may be a Tudor, but I won't play their game. I've played by my own rules my entire life and I won't stop now. This Tudor lives her life on her own terms," she retorts.

"Aye, she does." Cecil smiles at his friend. "I daresay John Hardwick envies you that. You have more freedom and thus more power."

"The only power I want is the power to live the way I choose without interference," she says. "No more and no less."

They sit in silence for awhile, sipping after dinner coffee.

"Spirit, you never answered my question," Elizabeth says suddenly. "Why would somebody kill Edward?"

Cecil shifts in his chair. "Elizabeth, they don't have any suspects yet, let alone motives. I mean, it was premeditated, so motives could include anything fr-."

"Cut the crap, Spirit," Elizabeth interrupts. "Tell me what you think the motive is. Your speculation is as valuable to me as any cop's."

"Be that as it may, it still remains speculation."

"Tell me, Spirit." She stares at her friend, unwavering. "Tell me what you think."

Cecil sighs. "I suspect that someone is targeting the primary Tudor shareholders. Walsingham told me that there was a sit-down recently to discuss a possible merge between the Tudors and the Hardwicks. If Walsingham has his facts straight, then Edward and Mary were opposed, but Edward's objections were more vehement. Mind you that this is all speculation, but I suspect that Edward was targeted in hopes that Mary would be more amenable to the merge. It gets Edward out of the way and shows Mary what lengths the John Hardwick is willing to go to in order to get what he wants."

There is a long pause. "I see," Elizabeth says finally. "Well, I guess I feel safer being in Sunset Valley and out of reach."

"Elizabeth, I don't think you understand," Cecil says urgently. " If someone is targeting the main shareholders of the company, you are in danger, too."

"I'm not a shareholder, remember? I sold my shares back to my siblings. I have no vested interest in the company."

"That doesn't mean anything to these people. You're still a Tudor. It doesn't matter that you don't have a vested interest now. All that matters is that you are the daughter of old Harry and the sister of Edward and Mary. You are a Tudor and you might have a vested interest at some point in the future. You have the potential to have a vested interest, and that potential means that in their eyes, you are still a player in the game."

"Spirit, I just told you. I don't want that life."

Cecil smiles sadly at her. "I know that. But do you think that your father's rivals believe that for a minute? They can't imagine themselves enjoying that kind of life, so they don't believe that you do. They think you were bullied out of the company by your siblings. They're expecting you to make a grab for power."

Elizabeth laughs mirthlessly. "Then they are fools. Pray tell, Spirit , what happens when I don't make my bid for power? What happens when I let Mary run the company as she pleases?"

"They will suspect that Mary was the one who wanted to keep you out of the business and that she bullied Edward into going along with her schemes."

"All right. Let's hypothesize for a moment. Say Mary dies. When I let the Board of Directors choose another CEO, what happens then?"

"They assume that the Board of Directors is keeping you out. They'll keep their eye on you."

"So, what you're telling me is that I'll always be a target," Elizabeth says quietly.

"Not necessarily a target," Cecil says quickly, hoping to reassure her. "They'll always have an interest in you, but as time goes on, it will be apparent to them that the one they need to be concerned with is Mary. It would be a waste of time to concern themselves with you."

"But they'll still keep an eye on me," she says bitterly. "The one thing I wanted was to get away from that life. Spirit, I've done everything I can to get out short of changing my name! What am I supposed to do?"

Her friend just shakes his head. For the first time in his life, Cecil has no answers for her.

Elizabeth arrives home to find her children and husband asleep. She looks at this garden that she worked so hard to cultivate. She still feels pride at all she accomplished with Robert, but she no longer feels as safe behind these walls as she once did. She quietly presses a kiss on each child's forehead, and heads to bed.

Elizabeth feels a little better lying in bed with Robert curled up beside her. He may not have the insider connections that Cecil has, but she knows her husband would do anything to protect her and the life they created in Sunset Valley. His face may have some wrinkles now, but she'll always see him as her Sweet Robin, the only boy who had an inkling how lonely she was, the teenager who showed her she was loveable, and the young man who dropped everything to run away with her.
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THE BIG REVEAL! Our mystery man is the Right Honorable Sir William Cecil, Lord Burghley, Secretary of State, Lord High Treasurer, Lord Privy Seal, Chancellor of Cambridge University, member of both the Order of the Garter and the Privy Council, and Political Genius Extraordinaire. Basically, he was Elizabeth's right-hand man. Robert Dudley was her emotional rock, but Cecil was her political rock. There is, however, no Cecil-Elizabeth-Robert love triangle. I hope that was clear.

So, I'm trying to liken business relations to court politics, but I'm afraid the plot is sort of becoming too convoluted and is beginning to not make sense. I mean, it makes sense to me, but that isn't any guarantee it makes sense to anybody else. If there's confusion, I apologize.

So, peanut allergy death...totally corny, right? I didn't want it to be straight-up poison, guns or anything, so we went with death by peanuts. My reasons for choosing peanuts as the murder weapon will become clearer   in the next chapter or so. There is a method to my madness...I think.

The title comes from nicknames for Elizabeth and Cecil. I've mentioned that Elizabeth often referred to Cecil as her "Spirit." Cecil, of course, had no nicknames for her (unless you count "Madam," which I don't), but her brother, Edward did. He referred to her as his "Sweet Sister Temperance." I almost called it "The Reunion of Spirit and Faerie," in reference to Edmund Spenser's The Faerie Queene, a long poem which can be read as praise for Elizabeth. Spenser was Poet Laureate of England during her reign, and was favored by her. I decided to go with Temperance because it sort of hearkens back to Edward, the unfortunate murder victim in my story. His death turned from death by illness (people still aren't sure what exactly killed him - tuberculosis, also known as consumption, is often cited) into murder for the plot.