'My dear Caro, can you not see the invidious position we are already in, sharing a room, without sharing a bed too?' Robert asked wearily. The argument had raged for half an hour.
'There's no one to see what we do, and if anyone cared they'd have assumed already we'd shared a bed, and done far more than just that!' Caro stormed. 'You're not well, your head pains you. I can tell from the way you frown at me, it's not all bad temper!' she added bluntly.
Suddenly he laughed.
'Do you ever give up?'
'Not when I know I'm in the right. Robert, the bed is wide, you can sleep fully clothed if you will, and with a bolster between us, or on top of the covers if you choose to freeze. But you will not sleep on hard boards while there is a soft – and unusually clean – feather mattress available.'
'Very well, I surrender to a woman,' he said resignedly. 'I will go to the taproom while you prepare for bed.'
Before she could reply he left the room and Caro stared after him. Now she was in a dilemma. She had packed no nightgown in the haste of departure, and considered her shirt alone would be too indecorous. She must retain her breeches.
Within five minutes she was in bed, shivering slightly although it was not cold, huddled under the covers with her face turned ostentatiously away from the empty half.
It was less roomy than she'd imagined, she discovered. She eased over to the edge, and hoped Robert would be comfortable on the portion which remained.
When the door opened she closed her eyes determinedly and tried to breathe slowly and evenly, although she longed to turn and see what Robert was doing.
Heroically she resisted the temptation, and after what seemed an inordinate length of time the candle was blown out, a lifted blanket let in a draught of colder air, the bed creaked, and she could feel Robert carefully disposing his long limbs beside her.
She had slept too much that day already. Sleep would not come. With a self-control she wouldn't previously have dreamed possible, she lay still when she longed to toss and turn, to find a more comfortable position, a cooler spot on the pillow.
Robert's steady breathing was an added irritation. How could he be so insensitive as to sleep so unconcernedly when she was in such turmoil?
Eventually she fell into a doze and it was dawn before she woke. Recalling instantly where she was, she opened her eyes. In confused dismay she discovered that during the night she had turned to face Robert. She'd somehow rolled towards him, and he'd gathered her into his arms. Her head lay pillowed on his shoulder, and his lips were actually resting against her forehead.
She dared not move in case she disturbed him. He would be as aghast as she was to discover how they'd slept. She could only hope he would move and release her before he woke.
It seemed hours to Caro, hours during which she swung from the extremes of embarrassment at the position she was in, and delight at being so closely embraced by her beloved Robert, even though it was unintentional and he had no knowledge of it.
The thought crossed her mind once that he might be imagining she was someone else, but she pushed it hastily away. She'd never asked, and she refused to think about the possibility of other women in his life.
When she was growing cramped with the effort of keeping still he suddenly stirred, stretched both arms up, and she was able to slide hurriedly out of the bed.
'Good morning, my lord. I trust you slept well,' she said in a stiff, curt tone.
'Indeed I did. I slept better than I've done for months,' he said contentedly. 'And you? I hope I didn't disturb you too much? The bed wasn't as wide as perhaps you thought?'
'Wide enough,' Caro said sharply, trying to ignore his glinting smile. 'Which way do we travel?'
'So eager to leave? We would do best to keep on the north coast, I think, to avoid Dartmoor. Once past it we shall no doubt discover where the Prince is and be able to join him for a while before we go to Falmouth.'
They did follow the coast road for two days, sleeping the first night in a small inn with no other guests, so that Robert was able to satisfy Caro's sense of the proprieties by hiring both rooms. If she felt rather disappointed she hid it from him and professed herself quite satisfied with the arrangements, but strangely she slept as badly as on the previous night.
The following evening they came to the small town, no more than a village, where the entourage of the young Prince of Wales had taken up temporary residence. The Prince and his more important advisers were in the principal inn, while others found accommodation as best they could in a smaller inn and the houses of villagers.
Caro had to wait in the taproom while Robert was closeted with the Prince upstairs. She endured the curious stares of idle courtiers as stoically as possible, pretending intense interest in the small grey stone cottages on the other side of the main street.
When Robert returned he indicated they should go outside before he spoke. He led the way along a narrow twisting lane, which climbed a steep hill towards small, bare fields.
'Is it so very bad?' Caro asked in the end, when he made no effort to speak.
'They are all, it seems, bent upon wantonly destroying the cause. The King appears to have turned completely against Rupert,' he replied grimly. 'Then Rupert himself, perhaps naturally after all the argument, rebels!'
'Rebels? How? What happened?'
'Rupert is the one man who's worked unceasingly to keep the King on his throne, the only competent leader amongst that pack of self-seeking, squabbling rabble! Perhaps the King despairs, turns to others when the situation is hopeless, but it will not serve!'
'What has he done?' she prompted urgently when he paused again.
He sighed wearily. 'The latest news is that Rupert demanded a Council of War should hear his reasons for surrendering Bristol, and they accepted them as justified. But the King does not. He then proposed removing Willis, who is Governor of Newark and one of Rupert's friends, to a lesser post in Oxford. When Willis and Rupert and Prince Maurice protested, the King called it mutiny and sent them away from Newark. He's few enough friends left, must he dismiss the truest of them?' he asked anguishedly.
There was little Caro could do to comfort him. She walked beside him, climbing up the steep lane which wound and twisted its way amongst haphazardly placed stone cottages. When they had almost reached the end and only a couple of cottages remained before the open fields, she ventured to speak.
'Where are we going?' she asked quietly, and Robert turned towards her with a rueful smile.
'Caro, my dear, I'm sorry. I forgot to tell you. I've arranged for you to stay with one of the ladies, Mistress Julia Somerton, and her husband.'
'You're leaving me?' Caro exclaimed in dismay. It had come, and she discovered that she wasn't prepared.
'Only for a while, until we travel to Falmouth. I must stay here a few days, there are matters to discuss, and it would not do for us to be together. You must see that.'
Caro did see. He wished to separate himself from her. In the depths of her mind she knew his reasons were sensible ones the world would approve, but all she could think of was that after these precious few days of his company she was to lose him.
'Am I to remain a boy?' she asked tightly.
'Julia knows the truth, but it is as you wish.'
She did not reply, and giving her a brief smile he turned towards the last cottage, a small, square building with the door opening directly onto the stony path.
Julia Somerton was a tall, pale, elegant beauty. She smiled warmly at Robert, and gave Caro an unsmiling nod which indicated she knew she was there but had no welcome attached.
'My poor Robert! What a dreadful misfortune for you! You come through battles unscathed, and then Edward says you were accidentally shot by some country yokel. Such clods ought not to be allowed to handle weapons, it's not fitting!'
Caro gasped, but Robert touched her arm warningly and she bit back the retort on her tongue. Perhaps he would not wish this supercilious young woman – such a beauty! – to know
that it was a girl who had injured him.
The thought increased the guilt she still felt, and she was unusually subdued as Robert explained he was escorting Caro to Falmouth, but needed to remain here a day or so for discussions with the Prince's men.
'I will come back to see you in the morning, Caro,' he said, and left abruptly.
Julia regarded Caro in some amusement.
'Poor Robert,' she murmured. 'He's too willing to shoulder the burdens of others. But only to a limited extent. He will not sacrifice his entire future.'
'What do you mean?' Caro asked warily.
'You haven't a hope of entrapping him into marriage,' Julia said calmly, a smile of amusement playing over her lips.
'Why should you think I wish to?' Caro demanded angrily. She'd never dared hope for that.
'My dear, it's obvious by the look in your eyes. You cannot bear him out of your sight.'
'I've never thought of the possibility,' Caro retorted, and inside herself marvelled that it was, strangely, true. All she'd dreamt of was being with Robert for ever. How it was to be achieved hadn't once occurred to her.
Julia laughed in disbelief. 'I'm no fool, and Robert is a very attractive man. If I didn't have my Edward I'd be making a play for him myself,' she continued musingly, and Caro knew instinctively that Edward was no barrier. If Julia wanted Robert she would ignore her husband.
'He merely offered to escort me to Falmouth, where some of my family are living,' she said stiffly. 'I could not remain at home after helping him escape the Roundheads. He feels an obligation towards me, that's all.'
'I'm sure it is, on his part! But you're hoping for more. Don't bother to deny it. Is it the reason for this ridiculous masquerade in male clothing? Do you think you're more desirable in breeches? You do have quite well-shaped calves,' she added condescendingly, 'if a trifle plump for my liking.'
'I don't think it necessary to enumerate my points, Mistress Somerton, as if I were a horse for sale!' Caro by now was furiously angry, and although the woman was in a manner her hostess she felt no obligation to observe normal politeness. Julia had been the first to abandon the courtesies, after all.
'Robert is a wealthy man, as well as an attractive one,' the insidious voice went on. 'His mother was French, and a very rich heiress, so even if the King loses his throne and we all have to flee abroad, Robert will lose little. He won't have lost all for a stupid sense of honour, and be begging his crusts in Europe like the rest of us!' she added bitterly.
'I'm well aware Robert regards me as no more than someone he offered to help,' Caro stated as calmly as she could. 'It grows late and I am tired. Could you tell me, please, where I'm to sleep?'
'What a pity for you that you cannot sleep in Robert's arms tonight,' Julia laughed softly. 'Is that why you donned male clothing, in the hope that you could share inn rooms without arousing comment?'
She laughed again as Caro's face flamed.
'Don't hope his conscience will make him offer marriage for fear of having compromised you, my dear,' she warned. 'If a woman throws herself at a man as you appear to have done, you can scarcely blame him for taking what's offered.'
'You are in the wrong,' Caro tried to speak calmly. 'If I may go to my room?'
'The one on the right at the top of the stairs,' Julia smiled sweetly. 'Even if Robert felt an obligation, he is betrothed the daughter of a French Duke. He wouldn't desert her for a little nobody who cavorts in breeches.'
***
Chapter 9
For two days Caro avoided the gloating Julia Somerton by going for long, solitary walks on the beach or through the bleak upland fields. She also avoided Robert, who had sent messages apologising for the delay to their journey.
She'd no wish to see him again, and on the first morning spent several hours debating with herself, trying to decide what to do. It was not his fault, she continually reminded herself, that she'd fallen in love with him. His kisses and embraces meant nothing to him, whatever their effect on her.
Could she ride to Falmouth alone? Much as she was tempted, it would take her at least two days and she had no money to pay for lodging at an inn. It had not occurred to her to bring money during that hurried packing.
In any event, they'd used very little money at Waring Manor. They produced most of what was needed in the village, buying a few things from travelling pedlars. They normally made major purchases on rare visits to a town and at the big fairs, often using money they obtained from selling surplus animals and grain. They never kept large amounts in the house.
She would have slept under a hedge in summer, but she knew it would be foolhardy at the beginning of November. Dared she take the chance of finding a barn?
At this point in her reflections she lifted her chin defiantly. Why should she pay heed to this woman? To run away would be an admission that Julia's remarks had hurt. She would not give the woman the satisfaction of knowing how right she'd been, at least in her suspicion that Caro was in love with Robert.
She still kept out of Julia's way, however, returning to the cottage only in time for dinner. Afterwards she sat in the tiny bedroom repairing some rents in Peter's ancient riding coat.
On the third day, at dawn, before Caro was fully dressed, Robert appeared at the cottage.
She dragged on her shoes and the hat which covered her hair, and ran down the stairs.
'We should leave at once,' he said briskly, giving her no other greeting. 'Are you ready?'
'I'll get the saddlebags,' Caro replied, equally short. 'Where are the horses?'
'At the top of the lane. We can take a track through the fields, a short cut.'
They rode in silence for some time, then Robert seemed to throw off his abstracted air and turned towards her.
'My apologies, Caro. It's been a difficult couple of days for me. Did Julia entertain you well? She's probably as bored as the other wives, waiting there and not knowing how long they'll remain, or where they'll be going next.'
'I don't think Mistress Somerton was bored,' Caro said briefly. 'Do you expect to reach Falmouth tomorrow?'
'That is the plan, if all goes well. Did Julia tell you much of what is happening?'
'No.' Caro did not elaborate.
'The Prince is receiving a bombardment of instructions, from the King, from his mother in France, and from everyone else, about where he should go,' he said with a sigh. 'It's always been agreed he must not fall into the hands of Parliament, for that would put unbearable pressure on the King. But no one can agree on whose hands would be safest. The Catholic countries are suspect, for fear they try to influence him on religion. His mother is seen to pose the same threat, and also she may marry him off unwisely. Ireland is beset with faction, and Scotland is too Presbyterian.'
'Where does the King himself wish him to go?' asked Caro, intrigued.
'He cannot make up his mind, which is the major difficulty. He is swayed almost daily, by events or by the counsel of those who have seen him last.'
'It does not seem very – kingly,' Caro commented. She was beginning to wonder whether this King, with his vacillations and his lack of loyalty to friends such as Prince Rupert, was a man worth fighting for.
Robert echoed her thoughts. 'No, but being a king does not ensure wisdom,' Robert said with a shrug. 'If Charles had been wiser there might not have been a war. And if he'd listened more to men like Rupert it might have been conducted differently. All we can do now, since the war would appear to be lost, is to prepare for the future, for Prince Charles.'
'What will happen to the King?' she asked, alarmed. Whatever his faults she didn't wish him any harm.
'Who can say? But he'll never again be permitted to rule unfettered. Parliament will always be stronger now. Some think he'll be fortunate to retain his throne.'
This was such a tremendous calamity Caro was silent for several miles. They'd always had a King, it was impossible to imagine life without a King on the throne. What could they do instead? Would Parliament rule?
'What do you intend to do after we reach Falmouth?' she asked quietly. 'Will you go to France?'
'Yes. I have estates there, and can help prepare the way if the Prince is eventually sent to France.'
He seemed about to say more but stopped, and instead began to point out various features of the countryside. They paused at noon to eat some of the food he had brought, but their conversation was stilted and spasmodic.
'Where do you expect to spend tonight?' Caro asked as the pale wintry sun fell over the horizon in front of them.
'I'd hoped we might reach St Columb. We're north of Bodmin now, but could stop there if you're weary.'
'I'd prefer to get as far as possible, to reach Falmouth earlier,' Caro said quickly.
'As you wish. Tell me about your uncle.'
'There isn't much to say. He is Peter's uncle, actually, not mine. He does not like the country, and has a house in Falmouth where he spends all his time. I believe he has a share in a trading ship. His wife comes from the area and they have three sons. The middle one is the same age as James, which was fortunate, as he lives with them and has companionship.'
'Do you like him?'
'I'm not related to him. He was displeased, I think, when Peter and I were betrothed. His wife had a niece whose fortune was greater than mine, and he wished Peter to marry her.'
'Then it seems as though you don't relish throwing yourself on his mercy?'
'There's no alternative. At least he will provide me with a home until he can marry me off. The local innkeeper or ship's chandler will be considered suitable matches, no doubt,' she could not resist adding, her tone bitter.
How different to the life she'd once looked forward to as Sir Peter Waring's wife! And -
But here she firmly suppressed her thoughts. She hadn't imagined the possibility of marriage with Robert until the wretched Julia had thrown scorn on the idea.
'Caro!'
She turned towards him, surprised at the change in tone.
Her Captive Cavalier Page 6