Georgette Heyer (47 page)

  'At Hinton Daubnay,' replied Henchman, blandly surveying his finger-tips.

  'A ship?'

  'Patience, sir: you are being watched.'

  The King saw that Mrs Mary Tichborne was looking at him, and relapsed into silence.

  Supper being presently announced, the company withdrew into an adjoining parlour, and sat down to table. Mrs Hyde, after a moment's hesitation, asked Dr Henchman to sit at her right hand. Her sister taking the other end of the table, the King chose a chair beside her, and began to converse with her in his pleasant, easy way. Since she knew him to be a Cavalier travelling in disguise, she found nothing to astonish her in his air of breeding, and his knowledge of the world; but Sir Frederick Hyde, who was sitting on his sister-in law's left hand, several times broke off his talk with Dr Henchman to turn and look at the shabby stranger beside him. His attention was always gently recalled by the doctor, but his curiosity soon got the better of him, and he contrived to find an opportunity to whisper to Mrs Hyde: 'Who is this fellow beside me? Is he not a servant?'

  'No, but a very poor man: one who lost his fortune in the late Wars,' she replied.

  'He is not dressed like a gentleman. What is his name?'

  She whispered: 'It is Jackson. Pray do not let him over hear you!'

  The King, however, was not listening to Sir Fred erick. He was lending a polite ear to Mary Tich borne's com plaints of the weather.

  ''Deed, I never remember such a rainy October,' she said, shaking her head. 'I fear you must have got wet upon your ride?'

  'No, no, we met nothing worse than a little Scotch mist at one place,' he assured her, adding with a twinkle: 'They have a saying in Scotland that a Scots mist will wet an Englishman to the skin, but we did not find it so today.'

  'Are you a Scotsman?' suddenly demanded Sir Fred erick.

  'Not I, faith!' answered the King.

  'You have travelled in Scotland, perhaps?'

  'Ay, for my sins.'

  'I have never visited that country. By all accounts, Argyll's faction is grown very great there. I know not which may be the worse: a Scotch Presbyter or an English Puritan.'

  'I have no acquaintance with English Puritans, but Scotch Presbyters I know very well, and if there is anywhere in the world a more hypocritical set of rogues I hope it may not be my ill-fortune to encounter them,' said the King roundly.

  'Ah, madam, here is a treat indeed!' said Dr Henchman. 'A dish of larks! You will agree with Mrs Hyde's friends, Sir Frederick, that nowhere is there to be found such good entertainment as at Heale House.'

  'Now, if there is one thing I esteem more than another it is a fat lark!' declared Colonel Phelips.

  The widow began to serve her guests. 'You see I remember what you like, dear Dr Henchman. Colonel, you glad a hostess's heart! Frederick, you will let me give you a lark?'

  'Indeed, I like them very well,' said Sir Frederick, taking his plate from her, and noticing, with a jaun diced eye, that although one lark was all that fell to his lot, Mr William Jackson, alone amongst the company, received the two best birds on the dish.

  Mr William Jackson noticed it too, and did not fail to observe the jealous look cast at his plate by his neighbour. 'Why, madam, I see that to the biggest man comes the biggest portion. I was never more glad of my inches!'

  'Oh!' she said, with a flustered laugh, 'you must know that I have a fine, lusty son of my own, sir, and know what a stomach a young man has!'

  'Ay, they say a growing youth has a wolf in his belly,' contributed Colonel Phelips, made desperate by trepi dation.

  Sir Frederick cast a measuring glance over the big frame beside him. 'It's to be hoped Mr Jackson has done with growing,' he remarked dryly.

  'Tell me, Sir Frederick,' once more interposed Dr Henchman, 'are your peaches this year as good as ever? Mine were quite spoiled by a blight earlier in the season.'

  Since Sir Frederick was an enthusiastic gardener, his attention was at once diverted, and a discussion was begun that lasted until his hostess and her sister with drew into the winter-parlour. The gentlemen remained seated round the table for some time, drinking the widow's excellent wine, and discoursing on a number of different topics. Neither Colonel Phelips's scowl, nor Dr Henchman's mild glance of warning, had the desired effect of imposing silence upon the King, who bore his share in the conversation with an entire disre gard for the incongruity of his servant's dress, and well informed speech. When he betrayed, by entering into an argument with Sir Frederick on the several ways of cooking partridges, that he had lived in foreign parts, Colonel Phelips abruptly put an end to any further disclosures by yawning loudly, and announcing that he for one was forespent, and would seek his chamber.

  'And I daresay you will be glad of your bed too, Jackson,' he said firmly.

  This put Sir Frederick in mind of the time. He glanced at the clock over the fireplace, and at once got up, saying that he must take his leave of his good sister, if he was to reach his own home before dawn.

  The three gentlemen, accordingly, removed into the winter-parlour, Colonel Phelips explaining to his hostess that he and his friend had come to crave her leave to retire, being wearied by their journey.

  She made no demur at such an early breaking-up of her supper-party, but at once requested her sister to escort the Colonel and Mr Jackson to their bedcham bers, and turned to bid farewell to Sir Frederick.

  Dr Henchman having left the parlour on a murmured excuse, Sir Frederick was able to speak frankly to his sister-in-law, which he did, saying earnestly: 'My dear Amphillis, I know not who this fellow may be whom Phelips has brought into your house, but there is something mighty odd about him, which puts me in a little disquiet. From his dress, which is very mean – not a shred of lace to his collar, and no wristbands, my dear sister, and his suit much worn! – one would suppose him to be a serving-man. That cropped head, besides, and his complexion, which is as sun-burned as any hind's! But his voice is good, and he can converse sensibly on all manner of subjects, which gives me a suspicion of his being one of these soldiers-of-fortune which have jumped-up in the late troublous times, and do now infest the country. You know, you should be more careful whom you admit into your house, sister. I say it in all brotherly kindness, you understand!'

  'Yes, Frederick, but indeed you wrong the poor man! He is perfectly respectable, but has fallen upon evil days, like so many honest gentlemen! Dr Henchman is acquainted with him, and Robin Phelips besides.'

  'Jackson!' said Sir Frederick, pursing up his mouth. 'I cannot call to mind any gentleman of that name. Well, have it as you choose, but if you will be advised by me you will keep a sharp watch on him. He seems to me a very plausible rogue.'

  The King, meanwhile, had been led by Mary Tich borne to a bedchamber in the front of the house. It was a fair-sized apartment, hung with green damask, and furnished with a four-poster bed, two oak chests, and several chairs. Mrs Mary thought it a very good chamber for an ugly young man in a worn grey suit, and was startled, upon her going downstairs again, to be met by her sister, who asked her in an agitated voice where she had bestowed Mr Jackson.

  'Why, in the green bedchamber, sister, as you bade me!' she replied, staring.

  'No, no!' said Mrs Hyde. 'The crimson room, Mary! Stay, I will lay out the Holland sheets, and my best down pillow!'

  'The crimson room for that poor man!' exclaimed Mary. 'The Holland sheets! Nay, you are out of your senses! I warrant he has not often lain in such an elegant room as your green bed chamber. And he has a feather-bed to lie on, besides, which –'

  'Hens' and capons' feathers!' said Mrs Hyde, in a stifled voice. 'Will you stand there disputing all night with me? Run quickly, and fetch the Spanish blankets out of the chest in my chamber! And the counterpoint of crimson plush that is lined with taffeta, and the down pillows, mind!'

  'Well!' said her sister. 'One would say you were making ready to receive the King at the very least, instead of a shabby young man who, I daresay, has never set foot in as fine a house as this in his life!'

  Mrs Hyde grasped her by the wrist. 'Mary, he
is
the King!' she said a shrill whisper.

  'Sister!' gasped Mary, gazing at her in the liveliest alarm. 'You must be crazed!'

  'No, I tell you! I am sure of it! I could not mistake! It is the King himself!'

  Mrs Mary Tichborne was so surprised that she felt quite faint, and had to lean against the balusters for support. All she could think of to say was: 'Mercy on us, what shall we do?'

  The housewife in Mrs Hyde supplied the answer to this question. 'He must have the crimson chamber, and the Holland sheets! Oh, that such an honour should have befallen me! I do not know whether I am standing on my head or my heels!'

  Mary recovered her presence of mind. 'The Holland sheets, if you will, but good God, sister, not the crimson bedchamber! Think what suspicion it would give rise to amongst the servants! And you putting two larks on his plate! Was there ever such folly? I could see Sir Frederick wondering at it!' A footstep on the landing above made her look up. Dr Henchman had come out of the green bedchamber, and began slowly to descend the staircase. She said in a hurried undertone: 'I will lay out the sheets. Do you ask the doctor if it is indeed the King!'

  Dr Henchman stood still to let her pass him on the stairs. His eyes surveyed her with a good deal of comprehension in their calm depths. As soon as she was out of sight, he went on down the stairs, and said with a slight smile to Mrs Hyde: 'I have been commanded to make known a very secret matter to you, madam, but I see that you have guessed it already. You may say that I have done very ill by you to bring that gentleman into your house without apprising you of his true estate, but you must understand that without permission I might not disclose so dangerous a secret.'

  She clasped her hands together. 'Oh yes, indeed I do understand, and not a word shall cross my lips! But such a wretched chamber as I have given him, and the bed stuffed only with hen's feathers! But the Holland sheets he must and shall have!'

  'Will you come in to him?' Henchman asked. 'I know nothing of sheets, nor he either, I daresay. But he wishes to speak privately with you.'

  'I will come at once,' she said, lifting a hand to smooth the bands of hair just visible under the veil she wore over her head.

  She paused at the top of the stairs to recover her breath, for she was stout, and panted easily, and then allowed the doctor to usher her into the green bedchamber.

  The thick damask curtains had been drawn across the windows, and the candles lit. Their little tongues of flame cast the King's shadow grotesquely on the wall behind him, and touched one of the steel buttons on his coat with a pin-point of light.

  The widow curtseyed deeply, the joints in her knees cracking. 'Sire, you are very welcome, and I greatly honoured,' she said.

  The King moved forward to raise her. 'Madam, madam, I thought you would betray me with your larks!' he said, laughing. 'Did you know me at once, then? Was that why your hand trembled so in mine? Yet how could you do so? Have we met before? I do not think it.'

  'Nay, sire, but seven years ago I saw you ride past Salisbury, with your Royal father. When I laid eyes on you this evening I recognized you at once, and was ready to drop where I stood, not having had the least suspicion that your Majesty was the gentleman Colonel Phelips was to bring to my house.'

  'Recognized me at once!' repeated the King. 'Oh, this face of mine! It will undo me yet!'

  'Not in this house, sire!' she said, holding herself very erect. 'There is only one other who knows of your presence here, and that one is my sister, and she is as honest a woman as I am, and I will vouch for her.'

  Colonel Phelips, who had been standing by the bed, half-hidden from the widow by the folds of the curtains, stepped into the candlelight, saying in his forthright way: 'The case is, madam, can you hide his Majesty so securely that none may get a sight of him?'

  She replied without hesitation: 'There is a secret place in the house, which few know of. It is hidden behind the wainscoting in a small chamber which we do not use in the general way.'

  'Softly, softly!' said the King. 'It is not
can
you hide me, madam, but
will
you hide me?'

  Her breast swelled; she lifted her chin. 'It needs not to ask that question of one who bears the name of Hyde, sire.'

  He seemed to be a little amused, but he bowed with a kingly grace that matched her dignity. 'Madam, I thank you! But will you not be seated? My good friend, Dr Henchman, will tell us then what we must do, eh, doctor?'

  'Sire, I do not sit while my King stands,' she told him.

  At that, a laugh escaped him. 'Do not use me with such ceremony, madam, for I am a very threadbare King, and one, moreover, that has no Kingdom to reign over.'