Georgette Heyer (33 page)

  'Ah!' said the King. 'But you do not know my Scot tish subjects, do you, Frank?' He gave a little laugh, and released the Colonel's scarf-end. 'Touching this ques tion of my choice of my Lord Wilmot, when I took the resolve to go to London (as I at first intended, look you), only he offered to go with me, though I am very sure he thought me mad to think to reach London. You account him a fearful man, but I tell you this, Frank: I might have his life for the mere asking.'

  'Fearful! I know not that! I had rather have called him foolhardy! When I saw him all undisguised, and called to mind whose harbinger he was, his confidence really begat admiration in me. I marvel that such folly has not betrayed you, sir!'

  The King only laughed, and said: 'I take good care not to travel in his company.' He turned his head, for the door had opened; and when he saw my Lord Wilmot ushering into the room an elderly lady leaning on an ebony cane, he rose at once to his feet, and stepped forward to meet her.

  Wilmot begged leave to present Lady Wyndham, who swept the King a curtsey that at once conjured up memories of Whitehall and happier days. He raised her at once, and led her to a chair, and sat himself down beside her. She was at first very punctilious with him, but he had a knack of shedding his kingship which made it difficult for ceremony to obtain when he chose that it should lapse. It was not long before they had reached a comfortable understanding.

  'You have been fortunate, sir, in your travelling com panions,' said Lady Wyndham, regarding him with a sapient, benevolent eye. 'I have had some discourse with Mrs Jane Lane, and find her a very good sort of a girl, concerned just as she should be with your preservation. We have decided that for better convenience she shall be thought a cousin of ours while she remains under this roof. That, however, will not be for long, since upon all counts it will be best for her to depart with Mr Lassels tomorrow morning.'

  'So soon?' said Charles. 'Nay, you are right: she must not remain here, for it might give rise to some suspi cion. I would not have her run into danger for my sake. But where is she?'

  'She is with my son's wife, sir, and will come to you presently. Meanwhile, if your Majesty will be guided by an old woman, we will take counsel together.'

  'Instruct me, madam. I shall certainly obey you.'

  She smiled. 'It would be well for you if you would, sir, for by all accounts you are too careless of your person. Now, this household numbers upwards of twenty persons. We think our servants trustworthy, but we can be sure only of three, two of whom are Catholic, and confirmed in their abhorrence of the Puritans. The third is my son's man, Henry Peters, who may yet prove to be of great use to your Majesty. For the rest, we desire they shall neither set eyes upon you, nor know of your presence in the house. Can you be content to remain in two rooms, sir?' She added with a twinkle: 'We will have no visits to butteries or bowling-greens, if you please!'

  'I said I would obey you, madam, and so I will, but I must tell you that I find myself very much at home in butteries,' said Charles meekly.

  She was amused, but she did not doubt him. She saw that he was of that easy nature that could be at home in any surroundings. She found it increasingly hard, every moment she spent in his presence, to believe that he could be his father's son. When her niece came into the room with Mrs Wyndham, and Jane Lane, she was struck by yet another difference between the first and this second Charles. That roving eye alighted upon Juliana, and kindled with undisguised appreciation.

  Juliana blushed under the King's gaze, but though she hung her head in maidenly confusion, she could not resist peeping at him through her lashes.

  Lady Wyndham watched the smile curl Charles's lips, and said in a dry tone: 'My niece, sire, Mrs Juliana Coningsby.'

  'I am right glad to know Mrs Juliana,' said the King, holding out his hand.

  Juliana went forward in a rush, sinking down in a billow of skirts, and fervently kissing his hand. 'Sire!' A girl's awe filled her voice; she stole a look up into his face, a doubtful, surprised look (for his dark ugli ness came as a shock to her); then his smile made her forget his swarthiness, and his coarse features, and she ventured to smile back at him. 'Oh,
sire
!'

  The King glanced up, and saw that Lady Wyndham was watching him. His smile changed to one of some what mischievous comprehension; he got up, drawing Juliana to her feet. 'Do not kneel to me, mistress,' he said lightly. 'That is a custom I desire all who wish me well to rid themselves of.' He walked across the room to Jane, and took her hand, and led her to Lady Wyndham. 'Madam, I commend my Life to you, and think I have no need to solicit your kindness for her.'

  'No need,' she said, receiving Jane's hand from him, and holding it. 'You are come in good time, Mistress Jane. I wish you will add your counsel to mine, that his Majesty will be pleased to remain in these apartments, which have been prepared for him, until my son has contrived to hire him a vessel to go overseas.'

  'That I will certainly do, madam,' Jane replied. She raised her eyes to Lady Wyndham's, and added: 'I am happy to leave his Majesty in such careful hands. I think him safe now, for the first time since I had the great honour to be of service to him.'

  'So you are to leave me, Jane?' the King said, 'and so soon!'

  'Why, yes, sir,' she replied. 'My part is played. I can no longer be of use to you, and I think I should return to Bentley, lest it become known that I did not go there from Abbotsleigh.'

  Her voice was tranquil; she wished to be gone from Trent, for the King, who had depended upon her for more than a week, was now amongst his own friends, and she felt a little desolate. She thought he would soon forget her, not knowing that whatever, in after life, this careless King might conveniently forget, all those who had rendered him aid in these dark days would always live in his memory. When she went with Lassels the following morning to take leave of him, she found him teasing Juliana, under the world-weary eye of Lord Wilmot. Her heart ached dully in her breast, but when he saw her he dismissed Juliana, and Wilmot too, saying abruptly: 'Give me leave, mistress, and you too, my Lord Wilmot!' He took Jane's hands, and said: 'Going, my Life? Alas, that I dare not, for your sweet sake, bid you remain!'

  She shook her head, answering him in the ghost of a voice: 'Better not!'

  'I know it. Yet I shall miss you sorely.' He released one of her hands, and held his own right one out to Lassels. 'You, too, my exacting master! I hope you may never have so clumsy a servant again! Nor one, indeed, who will put you so often in a sweat of fear! Will you do me a last favour, Harry Lassels?'

  'Anything, my liege!' Lassels said, dropping on his knee to kiss his hand.

  'If ever I come to my throne, let me hear from you! I am a King so deep in debt I may never repay the whole. Yet there are some debts I shall certainly repay. I charge you, do not forget!'

  Lassels gulped, but could only say rather thickly: 'God preserve your Majesty!'

  'I thank you, and do not doubt, since He has put such faithful friends in my way, He will do so. Leave me now: Mistress Jane shall join you presently.' He turned to her, almost before Lassels had withdrawn, and said, half-mournfully: 'I can find it in me to regret that I am not even now strapping your baggage on to the saddle. This is a sad leave-taking, my Life.'

  'Yet hopeful, sire!' she whispered.

  'For which I have you to thank. How shall I thank you, Jane? I think there are no words.'

  She raised her face, mutely inviting him to kiss her. Tears hung on the ends of her lashes, but her heart had warmed, and she could smile through her tears.

  'That, yes,' Charles said. He took her face between his hands, and kissed her. 'Do not weep, sweetheart! This parting is but for a little time. We shall meet again, in happier days.' He kissed her once more, and let her go. She seemed for a long time to feel the pres sure of his fingers on her cheeks. He said: 'I have been thinking, Jane, that you may be placed in some danger, if my enemies should discover the part you have played in my escape. It mislikes me a little that my lord should have sent your good brother to London. Heed me well, now! If suspicion should befall upon you, do not tarry in this country, but come to me, wherever I may be! If you can find a vessel to carry you to France, set sail immediately, and send tidings to St Germain, and I promise you I shall meet you on your road to Paris. Now call my Lord Wilmot in to me again, for he holds for me a keepsake I desire you will take in memory of me.'

  'It needs no keepsake, sir. I shall never forget.'

  'It is my will,' he replied, smiling.

  She moved to the door, and summoned my lord, who was waiting with Lassels at the stairhead. He came in, and the King said at once: 'Give me back my watch, Harry!'

  'Your watch, sir! Consider, should you carry upon you so valuable a jewel?'

'I shall not carry it. Come, man, give it to me!'

  Wilmot blinked, glanced at Jane, and said: 'Oh – ah! Why, certainly, sir!' He thrust his hand into the breast of his coat, and produced a silver-studded leather case, which he gave into the King's out-stretched hand.

  Charles opened the case, and drew out a crystal watch, with a silver face engraved with roses and leaves. 'I would give you a prettier watch than this, my Life, and one day I will do so. Meanwhile, I give you this one, which I wore at Worcester, to remind you of Charles Stewart and his gratitude.'

  He put both watch and case into her hand; she tried to thank him, but her voice failed, and she could only look up speakingly into his face. He bent, and kissed her cheek, and nodded to Wilmot, who came forward at once to escort her out to where Lassels waited with the horses.

  Hardly had these two travellers left the house than Colonel Wyndham also set out, to ride to Melbury, in the hope of engaging Sir John Strangways's help for the King. When he arrived at the house, a big, sprawling mansion, with gardens running down to a lake, he was met by the intelligence that Sir John was away from home. This was an unexpected set-back, but even as the Colonel began to enquire whether either of Sir John's sons was at Melbury, Colonel Giles Strangways came walking across the hall, with a couple of spaniels at his heels, and instantly recognized him. He called out in a bluff voice: 'What, by God, is it you, Wyndham? I am right glad to see you, man! Come you in!'

  He was a man in the late thirties, of rather a full

habit of body, and a handsome, arrogant countenance. A permanent crease between his brows, and eyelids that fell steeply from the inner corners of his eyes, gave him a contemptuous expression, not in the least miti gated by the upward curl of his mouth under very neat mustachios. His lower lip strongly supported the upper; he had the suggestion of a double-chin; and a masterful, aquiline nose. His bearing proclaimed the soldier; he was brisk, and held himself well, and seemed to have the habit of command.

  Wyndham clasped hands with him. 'I came to see Sir John but I hear he is away from home. I daresay my business can be as easily told to you, however.'

  'Never doubt it! Is it of importance? Must it be settled immediately?'

  'Oh no!' Wyndham replied, slightly pressing his hand before he released it. 'It is merely that I promised to bring Sir John word if I heard of a good hunter that might suit him.'

  'Is that it! Walk out with me, will you? What horse is this? Is he up to my father's weight?'

  He thrust a hand in Wyndham's arm, and marched him out of the house into the sunlit gardens. Not until they were out of earshot of anyone in the house did he abandon his flow of cheerful, loud-voiced enquiries. Then he said in quite a different tone: 'Let me have it now! By God, I dare not open my mouth in my own house these days! A pretty pass we have come to, odd rot it! I know not which of the servants may not be spying and listening at key-holes. The whole country is putrid with disaffection! What's your need of my father? Are you in some trouble?'

  'No,' Wyndham replied. 'Not I. But the King is in Trent.'

  The hand on his arm gripped it most painfully. 'God's body, what's this?' Strangways rapped out. 'Man, are you jesting?'

  'Jesting! On such a subject? I tell you, the King is lying hidden in my house, having made his way there in disguise from Worcester! Wilmot is with him, and I must procure a vessel to carry them both safe to France.'

  'Good God!' Colonel Strangways's ruddy cheeks had grown suddenly quite pale. 'He's alive, then! But in this neighbourhood! 'Sdeath, he could not have chosen a worse to come to! It stinks of Puritanism. He must be got away, and that right speedily, Wyndham!'

  'Ay, he must be got away to France, but I believe him safe at this present. There is a secret hiding-place at Trent, and not a soul I cannot trust knows of his pres ence there. I came seeking Sir John, thinking him the likeliest man to have the means in his power to render the King aid.'

  Strangways gave a groan. 'Put it out of your head!' he said. 'My father would give his life for the King, but I tell you neither he nor I dare move in such a matter. We are watched, and followed every step we take! We should bring a veritable pack of those rebel knaves upon the King. Get you to Lyme, and try there for Captain Alford! He has interest with I know not how many mariners. If any can contrive the King's passage overseas, he can.'