The Black Madonna (Roundheads & Cavaliers Book 1)

by Stella Riley

  Henry looked uncomfortable.

  ‘I don’t know that there would be any question of that.’

  ‘There’d better not be,’ came the grim reply. ‘Because even if I’d permit it – which I won’t – my Kate would quite certainly tell them to go to the devil.’

  * * *

  Two days later Luciano del Santi and his Turkish servant arrived back in London and went directly to the Heart and Coin. Selim, who had no use for wine, melted discreetly away with Aysha; and Gwynneth, having poured brandy for her damnably elusive lover, was left staring at the length of sapphire velvet he had placed in her hands.

  Finally she said tightly, ‘You didn’t need to bring me this.’

  ‘I know it.’

  ‘Then why did you?’

  ‘Perhaps,’ he suggested gently, ‘as a mark of my esteem and because I thought it might give you pleasure.’

  She turned slowly to face him, her eyes bitter.

  ‘Who are you trying to fool? If that were true, you know there’s only one thing I want.’

  ‘And which I, alas, can’t give you.’ He sighed and set down his glass. ‘We’ve had this conversation before. And just now, I’m not in the mood to repeat it.’

  ‘Do you think I don’t know that? Or that I want to quarrel with you before you’ve put off your coat?’

  ‘Then don’t.’

  ‘Easy to say! Don’t you realise it’s been nearly three months and I’ve been frantic with worry?’

  ‘Why? Selim was with me.’

  ‘God in heaven!’ she said violently. ‘Can Selim save you from shipwreck or plague? Why can’t you understand that I care what becomes of you?’

  ‘I do understand it – and wish you cared less,’ he responded dispassionately. ‘Gwynneth … I really don’t need this.’

  ‘Don’t you? And what about what I need?’ Something seemed to snap inside her and, hurling the velvet to the floor, she shouted, ‘You cold-hearted bastard … where the hell have you been till now?’

  ‘You know where I’ve been – and also that I’ve never given you the right to catechise me.’ He rose and picked up his hat. ‘Forgive me – but I think it’s best I leave.’

  Her anger fell away, leaving only hurt behind it.

  ‘Don’t go. I’m sorry.’

  ‘So am I. But you have always known the limitations of what I have to offer.’

  ‘Yes.’ She gestured helplessly with her hands. ‘But what can I do? I love you.’

  He looked at her for a long time out of shuttered eyes and then said tiredly, ‘To which, of course, there is no answer whatsoever. Goodnight, my dear.’

  Gwynneth watched the door close behind him and damned herself silently for a fool. Then, as desolation welled up inside her, she sank down on the bright rag rug and, gathering up the beautiful velvet, cradled it mutely against her cheek.

  Outside in the deepening twilight, Luciano experienced a feeling of unaccustomed depression. He ought to go home to Cheapside and Giacomo and the mountain of correspondence and messages that were doubtless waiting for him … but he didn’t feel ready for that yet. He had lingered a full month longer than usual in Genoa, waiting to see if his uncle would recover from the apoplexy that had smitten him – and knowing all the time that, if Vittorio died, Cousin Carlo would foreclose on him before the old man was even cold. Fortunately, it hadn’t happened. Vittorio had recovered enough to resume control of his affairs and Luciano had known himself safe – this time. But it had brought home the perilous nature of the path he was treading and made him realise the need to make some speedy progress with his mission. For, if he did not complete it while Vittorio lived, the chances were that he would not be able to complete it at all.

  And that was why he did not want to go home yet. For days now, his mind had been going round in circles and he was tired of it. All he wanted, he suddenly realised, was an hour’s simple companionship; and there was only one place, now, where he might hope to find it.

  Without stopping to think further, he turned his feet towards the river and hailed a boat.

  * * *

  In the house in Old Palace Yard, Richard Maxwell eyed his wife and eldest daughter with rare gravity and said, ‘So there you have it. Due to the dismissal of the Catholics, there are vacancies in the Queen’s household and my lords Saye and Brooke want to put forward certain suitable names to fill them. Yours, Kate, is one of them. And I’m supposed to encourage you to accept.’

  ‘I see,’ said Kate blankly. And then, ‘Actually - no. I don’t. Why me? Their lordships can’t have laid eyes on me more than a dozen times between them. For all they know, I could be howlingly indiscreet.’

  ‘So long as it works in the right direction, I suspect they wouldn’t mind if you were,’ came the dry response. ‘I have been assured, however, that you will at no time be asked to eavesdrop or carry tales … but for which we wouldn’t be having this conversation.’

  ‘And quite right, too,’ said Dorothy. ‘But since you have been assured of it, why are you still against the idea?’

  ‘Mostly because I don’t like the hole-and-corner way it’s come about. If Henry hadn’t enabled me to force the issue by asking, I’d probably still be in the dark.’

  ‘Well, certainly that is very bad,’ Dorothy agreed. ‘But I think we can acquit Lord Brooke of wishing to serve you an ill turn. And even Lord Saye is unlikely to push you against your own good judgement. So the question we ought to be addressing is whether or not Kate is to do what they want.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ he sighed. ‘Well, Kate?’

  ‘I don’t know. At the moment I’m still stunned at being asked. All I can truthfully say is that it’s not something that’s ever particularly appealed to me … but that, equally, I’m not totally against the idea.’

  ‘Oh.’ Richard looked faintly nonplussed. ‘I quite thought you would be.’

  Kate grinned. ‘Yes. A year – or even six months ago – I’d have refused to even consider it.’

  ‘So what has made the difference?’

  ‘I’m not sure. One thing is probably Venetia. Since she’s already with the Queen, it wouldn’t be as if I didn’t know anyone. But, more importantly, I’ve begun to feel the need for a change of some sort. I don’t want to have spent my entire life doing nothing but sit at home, waiting for a husband to come along. So perhaps – just for a little while – this is the answer.’ She stopped and looked at her mother. ‘Does that make sense?’

  ‘Perfect sense.’ Dorothy rose and walked to her husband’s side. ‘Look at her, Richard. And try to be objective.’

  Richard looked. Though no taller than she’d been at sixteen and still very slender, Kate’s bones and angles had acquired delicate new curves. The face which had always seemed so pointed had gained a smoother line of cheek and jaw that rendered it almost heart-shaped; the wide cat’s eyes were suddenly alluringly almond-like and the fiery mane had darkened slightly to a shade resembling beaten copper. She wasn’t – and never would be – what the world called a beauty; but, My God, thought Richard, startled, she’s got something that will bring most men back for a second look.

  Aloud he said weakly, ‘Yes. I see what you mean.’

  ‘I thought you would.’ Dorothy smiled. ‘And now look at the way her hair is falling down her back and the ink-stains on her fingers and the tear in her skirt which she hoped I wouldn’t notice.’

  Kate looked down with an air of vague guilt and said, ‘Quite. But I’d have changed if we’d been expecting anyone.’

  ‘An improvement I’ll happily acknowledge,’ replied her mother. ‘But it’s not enough. You’ve a number of unusual qualities, Kate. And I want the outside of you to reflect them.’

  ‘In short,’ said Richard, ‘you want her to go to Court.’

  ‘Yes. I think she needs to see a little more of the world – and she may never get a better chance than this one. Is that so foolish?’

  ‘No.’ A smile had crept into the grey eyes. ‘I just
hadn’t thought of it that way. So, Kate … your mother wants you to become a Court butterfly. What do you say?’

  ‘That I’m more likely to be a moth,’ came the characteristic reply. ‘But I think I’d like to go. The only question is – is Whitehall ready for me?’

  ‘As much as it will ever be,’ began Richard. And then stopped, listening to sounds clearly betokening an arrival. ‘Dear me. Now who can that be, I wonder?’

  A tap at the parlour door heralded a maidservant. And behind her, in the shadows of the hall, stood Luciano del Santi.

  There was a moment of utter silence. Then, ‘My point, I think. You should have changed that gown, Kate,’ murmured Dorothy wickedly, before moving forward to greet their visitor.

  Kate stayed where she was and waited for her lungs to reinflate and her nerves to settle. Then, when the signor had been shown to a chair and offered wine, she said more abruptly that she had intended, ‘When did you get back?’

  ‘This evening.’

  ‘And you came straight here? How nice. What a shame your sister isn’t here to appreciate it.’

  ‘Kate,’ said Richard, under his breath. And, aloud, ‘Gianetta seemed happy to remain at Thorne Ash so my wife thought it best to leave her there.’

  ‘A wise decision, I’m sure.’ Luciano smiled at Dorothy. ‘I trust she’s given no trouble?’

  ‘None worth mentioning. Fortunately, she and Tabitha have taken to each other.’

  ‘I suppose that was to be expected. Since she came to live with me, the only other person she’s deigned to like is Tobias.’

  ‘Who, incidentally,’ offered Richard with some humour, ‘has been daily lamenting your continued absence and is determined to foist himself on to you for a full seven years.’

  ‘Ah.’ The merest hint of a smile curled the Italian’s mouth. ‘And you want to know if I’ll take him.’

  ‘Please.’

  ‘It seems likely – subject to what I find when I go home. He shows more than average promise.’

  ‘When you go home?’ queried Kate. ‘Haven’t you been there yet?’

  ‘No. Not yet.’

  ‘Goodness! Never say you’ve brought all your luggage here with you?’

  ‘Again – no.’ His voice remained perfectly courteous but there was a glint in his eyes which was not. ‘It is … at another establishment of mine.’

  The brothel, thought Kate instantly. But she had more sense than to say it and, instead, went straight to the only point which interested her.

  ‘And what about Selim? Have you brought him with you?’

  ‘Here? No. Should I have done?’ He drew a sharp breath and loosed it. ‘If there is a point to this inquisition, I should be glad if you could get to it.’

  ‘Kate.’ This time it was Dorothy who spoke. ‘There’s nothing to be gained by this.’

  ‘There is to me. Unless Meg doesn’t matter?’

  ‘You know she matters. But --’

  ‘Dolly.’ Richard took his wife’s hand. ‘He’s got to know at some time. Let her get it over with.’

  ‘Excuse me,’ said the Italian gently. ‘Is there something I’ve missed?’

  ‘You might say so.’ Kate faced him witheringly. ‘Your man, Selim, has seduced my maid and got her pregnant. And though it may be of small importance to you, it isn’t so to me.’

  ‘No. I don’t imagine it is.’ He looked back thoughtfully. ‘You want me to apologise for him? I apologise.’

  ‘Don’t put yourself out, will you?’

  ‘Well, what else do you expect me to do? I can’t compel him to marry her – and neither, I suspect would you like it if I did. Selim is a follower of the Crescent.’

  ‘I know that. And of course they can’t marry.’

  ‘Then what do you want from me? Selim’s dismissal? Money for the child? Blood?’

  Furiously conscious that she could not, under the ears of her parents, answer as she wished, Kate remained fulminatingly silent. Taking advantage of the lull, Richard said with the suspicion of a smile in his voice, ‘He has you there, Kate. You admit that marriage is out of the question; you can’t want Selim cast off for something that is as much Meg’s fault at his – and you know we’ll look after both her and the baby. So what do you want?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she returned tersely.

  ‘Yes, you do.’ Luciano del Santi rose from his seat to face her. ‘This is just a way of relieving your feelings, isn’t it? For what you really want is a quarrel.’

  There was a long, cataclysmic pause. Dorothy caught her husband’s eye and then bent her head diplomatically over her hands. The Italian continued to smile provokingly at Kate and waited, without visible stress, for her to speak. Finally, in tones of the purest honey, she said, ‘It’s a good thing you called then, isn’t it? What would we do without you?’ And, turning on her heel, summarily left the room.

  ‘A strategic withdrawal, no less,’ remarked Richard pensively. ‘I suppose you had to be even more bloody-minded than usual?’

  ‘Yes. For what it’s worth, I’m having a hellish evening.’

  ‘In which case,’ observed Dorothy, ‘it was thoughtful of you to come and share it with us.’

  For a second, the dark eyes reflected something that might have been appeal. Then he said impassively, ‘I’m sorry. You’re right, of course. I shouldn’t have come. But, despite the unfortunate façade, I do regret the trouble caused by my servant and will make whatever reparation you deem suitable. And now I think it’s time I removed myself.’

  ‘Not just yet,’ said Richard. ‘You’re not unwelcome. And there are things you should know – such as the fact that, as a Catholic, you are now forbidden to carry arms.’

  ‘In which case, I shall remove myself,’ announced Dorothy. And, smiling briefly at her husband, she did so.

  Luciano del Santi watched her go and then said slowly, ‘I hadn’t realised your family would be here with you – otherwise I wouldn’t have come. If I’ve caused offence, I’m sorry for it.’

  ‘My God! Two apologies in one evening? You must be sickening for something,’ grinned Richard. ‘Oh – sit down and finish your wine. Dorothy’s not offended – though she’s probably wondering how you’ve come to understand Kate so well if you can’t meet without the fur flying.’

  ‘Simple. It’s because we can’t meet without the fur flying.’ He carefully put to the back of his mind the one occasion when that had not been true.

  Richard raised his brows. ‘Is that what you think?’

  ‘Don’t you?’

  ‘No. I think it’s because, every now and again, there are unexpected moments of … let’s call it rapport … between the two of you. And I suspect Kate’s disadvantage is in knowing it.’

  A strange smile touched the well-shaped mouth.

  ‘Not so. It is in showing that she knows it.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘That I know it too. And I am therefore as aware as you could possibly wish that it will be much better for all concerned if we carry on quarrelling.’

  * * *

  By the end of the month and the date set for Dorothy’s return to Thorne Ash, Kate had received a formal appointment to the Queen’s household and was awaiting the completion of more gowns than she personally thought necessary. A hitch occurred when Henrietta Maria announced her intention of visiting a spa for the sake of her health and it was feared that she might be planning to raise money for an army by selling her jewels abroad; but a hint from Parliament on the undesirability of the said jewels leaving the country soon solved this problem and the Queen said she would go to the palace of Oatlands instead.

  ‘Which,’ said Richard, ‘is just as well. Because if anything untoward happens or Kate isn’t happy, I want her where I can reach her – not careering all over Europe.’

  With Celia’s confinement due around the end of August and Amy growing sulkier every day on account of Kate’s good fortune, Dorothy was anxious to be off. She also decided to take Meg Benn
et home with her and find a more experienced, London-bred girl to look after Kate. The result was that Jenny Platt joined the household and Meg wept new torrents at the thought of facing her father and Tom Tripp. Dorothy, with a hundred or so small matters still claiming her attention, began to feel frayed around the edges.

  Finally, however, everything was suitably organised and she was able to spend her last evening comfortably alone with Richard.

  ‘This is nice,’ she sighed, nestling against his shoulder. ‘Does Kate going to Court mean that you won’t be home this summer?’

  ‘Not necessarily. The King is due to leave for Edinburgh any day now and I can’t see much happening in Westminster while he’s away. Kate ought to be safe enough at Oatlands for a few weeks.’

  Dorothy twisted her head to look up at him.

  ‘Safe? That’s an odd word to choose.’

  ‘Possibly. I may be foolish – but I don’t think the current climate is immensely stable. At the moment, Pym and the King are playing a game of cat and mouse in which they try to outdo each other in the appearance of moderation. But at the end of the day, Pym still wants the Crown brought under parliamentary control and the King still believes himself supreme by Divine Right. So the time must come when Pym will go too far or His Majesty will make a stand. And what price moderation then? But don’t worry. The very worst that can happen to Kate is that her stay at Court may be a short one.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘If I wasn’t, she wouldn’t be going at all.’

  ‘No.’ She relaxed again. ‘And she’s sensible, isn’t she?’

  ‘Very. More, perhaps than we’ve ever realised.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘Merely that I suspect she may be fighting an unsuitable attraction … and one which, did she but know it, is very possibly mutual.’

  ‘Good gracious!’ Dorothy sat up. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘I don’t think I’d better tell you,’ he laughed. ‘All your muscles will go into spasm.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Who is it?’

  ‘My alarming friend.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Well? Nothing to say?’

  ‘Yes,’ came the feeble reply. ‘All my muscles have gone into spasm. Did you say mutual?’