Queen Elizabeth was in residence. Adam crossed the noisy great hall where people milled around trestle tables laden with food, then marched straight into the great watching chamber where Yeomen of the Guard stood on duty. He gripped a scroll he had brought Elizabeth, his hand around it damp with sweat. Adam had taken many risks in his life, but none as hazardous as this. The chests of gold from the Nuestra Señora still lay hidden under tarps on his boat at Billingsgate next to scruffy fishing smacks and wherries. Having stolen a fortune, he now had to convince Elizabeth to take it. If he could not, the scroll he held might be his death warrant. He found the watching chamber crowded with men and women in showy courtiers’ finery, all of them waiting to see Elizabeth. Some lounged on benches, some chatted and laughed by the hearth, some whispered in corners. The door to the presence chamber was closed and guards flanked it, but they had admitted Adam often, as they did all of Elizabeth’s councilors and close friends, and he made straight for the door.
