The King's Mistress (17 page)

In the silence Jane watched a hawk soar high overhead, coasting in a lazy circle, its harsh cry echoing against the rocks.

Finally Henry turned to face Jane and Charles, who still sat hand in hand.

“I have sworn to see you safe and I will do it, come what may. I bear the name of eight kings, and would not shame it by abandoning my sovereign.”

Charles stood and went to him. “Then give me your hand, brother Henry. We will go forward together, and I am honoured to have such company.”

P
OPE HAD DRAWN A MAP SHOWING THE PLACEMENT OF THE MANOR
house at Ansford, just north of Castle Cary, and Rogers had taken word to Edward Kyrton of the impending arrival of the travellers. Rogers was waiting at the gate into the stable yard, and Kyrton burst from the house and came forward to greet Jane as Charles helped her to dismount and took the horses’ bridles. Kyrton’s eyes lingered on Charles’s face a moment too long, and Jane knew that he must surely have recognised the king, but he only bowed to her and Henry, murmuring, “Come, come, you are welcome all,” as he ushered them into the house.

“Pope asked me to give you quiet lodging for the night,” he said smoothly. “The chambers at the back of the house are most private, and I myself shall bring up food and aught else you may need.”

Jane was grateful for a few minutes alone. She was exhausted with riding and the day’s intense emotions. She washed in the basin Kyrton provided, the grit of the road muddying the water and leaving the linen cloth streaked with dirt. Kyrton laid out supper in a small parlour, a bright fire dancing beneath the great stone mantel. When he had gone, Charles stood at the window, watching the setting sun tingeing the horizon with pink and orange.

“That’s Glastonbury Tor, if I’m not mistaken,” he said, pointing, and Jane went to his side. “Where Arthur and Guinevere are supposed to lie. During the war one of Cromwell’s men chopped down the Holy Thorn, the hawthorn tree on the Tor that they say grew from the staff of Joseph of Arimathea. A soldier at Worcester told me that he had it from a man who was there that the ruffian was blinded by a flying splinter. I wonder.”

They were all exhausted, and as soon as they had done with supper Henry withdrew to his room. Alone with Charles for the first time since the previous afternoon, Jane felt apprehensive. Her rage had dissipated, leaving only sorrow and weariness. But was he angry at her after she had treated him so harshly? Her fears were relieved when he came to her side and bent to kiss her.

“Jane,” he said, lifting her chin to meet his eyes. “Would you lie alone tonight? I know you are weary, and perhaps you cannot forgive me yet.”

“No,” she said, standing and folding herself in his arms. “I will lose you soon, and would not waste a night I might spend by your side. I shall have all the time I want to be angry at you when you are gone.”

T
HEY ROSE AND WERE ON THEIR WAY EARLY. IT WAS ONLY TEN
miles to Trent, but it seemed that all of them felt an urgency to be there as soon as they could, as if the king’s hoped-for refuge might disappear into the mists as they approached. The road wound through fields and pastures, with hedgerows rising over the hills and sheep dotting the meadows. In places the branches of the trees at the sides of the road met in an arch overhead, and they rode through a green tunnel. Grey stone cottages with thatched roofs stood here and there. Swallows flew in raucous flocks, swooping and darting beneath the lowering clouds.

“We must be near now,” Henry said as they met a boy with a herd of goats.

The road was very narrow, hemmed in on either side by tall hedges, and Jane felt as if she was in a garden maze like the one at her grandparents’ house, Blithfield. The goats passed between and around them, bleating, the bells suspended around their necks jangling. A cart drawn by a donkey approached, the lanky lad with the reins in his hands whistling. Charles pulled his hat lower over his brow, and nodded in response to the boy’s cheerful “Good morrow to you.”

The hedges by the roadside dwindled and came to an end, and orchards stretched away on either side. Jane saw a church steeple rising ahead, and knew they must be nearing the manor house. Suddenly a couple stepped from behind a stone wall beside the road. The man raising his arm in greeting had the erect bearing of a soldier.

“Frank, Frank, how dost thou do?” Charles called out, reining to a halt as the man came to his side. “And Mrs Wyndham, I make no doubt.” He nodded to the pretty dark-haired young woman smiling beside Wyndham.

“Aye, sir,” Sir Francis Wyndham said, his voice low. “I cannot tell you how gratified we are to see you, but let us waste no time in getting you inside.” He glanced down the road towards his house. “The servants are all abroad this morning, but we must be wary of our neighbours. It will be safest for you to take the horses to the back and slip in the kitchen door while we welcome Mistress Lane and Mr Lascelles at the front of the house.”

He nodded towards the manor house. “The drive curves around the back, and Swan and Rogers are there to take the horses.”

“As you say, then,” Charles agreed.

A tavern with the sign of the Rose and Crown stood across the road from the great grey-stone manor house with its thatched and gabled roof, and half a dozen red-coated soldiers were gathered in the stable yard. Jane was conscious of their eyes turning to watch as Charles helped her dismount and led the horses away.

“Good morrow, gentlemen!” Henry called out, bowing.

“And to you, sir,” one of the soldiers answered. They watched for a moment more, and then turned back to their circle and continued their talk.

Colonel and Mrs Wyndham must have walked uncommon fast, Jane thought, for they threw the front door open as though they had been inside all the while.

“Why, cousin!” Mrs Wyndham cried. “I pray your journey has not been too uncomfortable?”

“Not too bad, all considered,” Jane responded.

She kissed Mrs Wyndham’s cheek and took her arm fondly, reflecting that Mrs Wyndham appeared to be a few years younger than she was, and that they did indeed look as though they could be cousins.

“But I am perishing for a drink of something cool.”

She felt like a player walking offstage must do, she thought as they entered the house. A grey-haired older lady, her eyes goggling, shut the door behind them, and another girl about Mrs Wyndham’s age hovered nearby. Colonel Wyndham hurried away, and a moment later reappeared with Charles and Wilmot.

“If it please you, come upstairs,” Colonel Wyndham murmured to Charles. “We will endeavour to make you as comfortable as may be.”

He led the way, Charles and Wilmot with him, and Jane and Henry following with the three Wyndham ladies. It was a handsome house, Jane thought, glancing around the great hall as they climbed the stairs. The chamber into which Colonel Wyndham ushered them was beautiful and cosy. Sun flooded through the tall windows, casting warm rays across the gleaming oak planking of the floors and the honey-coloured wall panelling.

The door of the room safely shut, Wyndham bowed deeply. “Welcome, Your Majesty. May I present my wife, Anne, my mother Lady Wyndham, and my cousin Juliana Coningsby.”

“I thank you for your hospitality and kindness, ladies,” said Charles, smiling.

The black-haired Juliana Coningsby was as young and pretty as Anne Wyndham, their faces were flushed with excitement as they curtsied, and Jane felt an unreasoning surge of jealousy as Charles smiled at them.

“Allow me to name Mistress Jane Lane and Mr Henry Lascelles,” he said, “who have been my saviours, as you are now.” Jane and Henry exchanged bows with the Wyndhams, and it seemed to Jane that the ladies eyed her with barely suppressed curiosity.

“We think it best to lodge you here in my mother’s rooms,” Colonel Wyndham said. “They are the most removed from the rest of the house and the most private, and there is a priest hole, should it be called for.”

“What could be better?” Charles said, beaming. “I would say that you cannot guess how grateful I am for your kind shelter, but that I am sure you can.”

Anne Wyndham dimpled a smile at him. “Please excuse me, Your Majesty,” she said. “I beg you to make yourself comfortable while I bring some refreshment.”

She and Lady Wyndham bustled from the room, and Charles sank onto one of the chairs around a table near the fireplace, and gestured to the others.

“I pray you all, be seated.” He turned to Jane and Henry. “Frank here has been most active on our behalf. He was governor of Dunster Castle during the war, and with Sir John Paulet he formed the Western Association, its members gathering under cover of a race meeting.”

“Though to no avail,” Colonel Wyndham said, seating himself on a bench near the fireplace. “Our rising last December was discovered almost before it had begun, and I have only just been released on parole from imprisonment.”

Jane noted that he was thin, and his face lined and shadowed, as though he had been ill. She realised that he was probably only in his thirties, though she had at first taken him to be older.

“I cannot tell Your Majesty what inexpressible joy it gives us to see you well,” Colonel Wyndham said. “The news we had from Worcester was that your life had been lost, and we knew no different until my lord Wilmot’s arrival last night.”

“Perhaps that is to the better,” Charles said. “If the people hereabouts think me dead, they will have no reason to look for me.”

“True,” Colonel Wyndham agreed. “But if it please Your Majesty, it will be safest if you remain within these rooms. This morning I sent forth most of the servants on various pretexts against your arrival, but they will return, and the fewer people that see Your Majesty, the better. With your permission, we will make your presence known to our man Henry Peters, and two of our maids who have all been with us for many years and whose loyalty is beyond question. The rest of the household will remain in ignorance.”

“I will follow your judgment in all things, Frank,” Charles said. “Providence has showed me the way to your door, and I trust will show me when it is safe to step forth.”

Anne and Lady Wyndham returned with the two maids, Eleanor and Joan, both middle-aged women who sank to their knees to kiss the king’s hand, expressing their determination to do anything in their power to help him and make him comfortable. They left and came back a few minutes later with bread, cold meat, cheese, fruit, and ale. After the meal, Anne Wyndham turned to Jane.

“Shall we withdraw and leave the men to their planning, Mistress Lane? I am sure that you must be weary from your journey and would be glad to leave the business to the gentlemen.”

Jane had no wish at all to leave the business to the gentlemen and desperately wanted to be in on their discussion, but as the men rose and the Wyndham ladies waited smiling for her, she felt trapped, so with a pained smile at Henry and Charles, she departed.

“This will be your room, Mistress Lane,” Anne Wyndham said. “Near to the king so that you may confer easily if need be.”

“How charming,” Jane said, with genuine pleasure, for the room was not only lovely but just a few steps from Charles’s door. She turned to find Juliana Coningsby gazing at her, her dimpled cheeks rosy and her bright blue eyes glowing with excitement.

“What an adventure you must be having!” Juliana cried, speaking for the first time since greeting the king.

“Yes!” Anne Wyndham giggled, clapping her hands. “We did not know the king was so handsome a man!”

“And to be a-horseback with him on such a journey!” Juliana gushed. “Like something from a fairy tale!”

They stared at her as if she might do something marvellous and unexpected, and Jane laughed uncomfortably, wondering if her feelings for Charles showed clearly on her face.

“Indeed, it has been an adventure,” she said. “One that I scarce looked for, and that came upon me so suddenly that even now I hardly know what to think of it.”

“Come, girls,” old Lady Wyndham said, shooing the younger women towards the door. “I’m sure Mistress Lane is tired. There will be plenty of time for talking later.”

Jane was more tired than she had known from the strain of the last few days, and when she was alone, she gladly dropped onto the bed, soft with feathers and down-filled pillows, and was soon asleep.

J
ANE
, H
ENRY, AND
W
ILMOT JOINED THE
W
YNDHAM FAMILY FOR DINNER
, and seeing the size of the household, Jane thought it was much the best course for Charles to stay out of sight. With assorted family members and servants, she reckoned there must be more than twenty people under the Wyndhams’ roof. The old maid Eleanor beamed at her and Jane smiled back, unaccustomed to such adulation.

After the meal she went to Charles’s room and was happy to find him alone, reading over the little catechism he had been given at Moseley. He took her into his arms and kissed her, then led her to the window seat.

“What a lovely room!” she said, admiring the garden below and the view beyond, down the hill and southwest, the sun slanting over the fields. “I could stay forever here!”

“Let us hope you shall not have to, and nor shall I.” Charles laughed.

“What did Colonel Wyndham say?” she asked. “Can he help you?”

He grinned, seeming more relaxed than she had yet seen him. “He has a friend who he is confident can get a boat for me, and will go to see him tomorrow. Oh, Jane, I am almost home free.”

“Yes,” said Jane. “Almost there,” and her heart contracted. “Oh, Charles, what shall I do without you?” She looked to him, love and longing welling up and filling her as she gazed on his face.

He chucked her under the chin and took her hand. “Why, sweetheart, you shall do very well, just as you did before ever I came to disrupt your life.”

Jane tried to smile but tears filled her eyes and she choked back a sob before she replied.

“But now I know what life can be, what happiness is, how can I return to things as they were?”

Charles looked down at his feet, scuffing a leaf from the sole of one shoe with the toe of the other, and he sighed.