The Black Madonna (Roundheads & Cavaliers Book 1)

by Stella Riley

  For a moment, there was silence. Then Dorothy said impatiently, ‘Face facts, Kate. That’s not all and you know it.’

  ‘Actually, I know nothing. All I can do is assemble the pieces.’

  ‘Then do it.’

  ‘All right – all right.’ She dug her nails into her palms and forced herself to voice the suspicion which she’d so far refused to name, even to herself. ‘It’s possible he’s looking for revenge. Is that what you wanted to hear me say?’

  ‘Yes. And knowing that, you can still contemplate marrying him?’

  ‘I’ve told you. I love him. Nothing else matters.’ Kate hesitated briefly and then took the first resolute step into the quagmire. ‘And Father liked him. You know he did.’

  A strange quiver passed over Dorothy’s face and one hand moved as though to ward off a blow. ‘Don’t. I’m not sure I can bear it.’

  ‘You must bear it. Can’t you see? It’s time. Father knew exactly what Luciano is doing, didn’t he? Didn’t he?’

  ‘Yes.’ It was no more than a sighing breath.

  ‘And liked him - regardless. So it stands to reason that it can’t be so very terrible – or Father wouldn’t have …’ She paused again and then, gritting her teeth, went on flatly, ‘Or Father wouldn’t have given Luciano permission to court me.’

  Dorothy crumpled slowly back into her chair, her face torn apart with pain.

  ‘Stop it, Kate. What are you trying to do?’

  ‘Make you understand. Last night I lay with the man you say I don’t know – and later, when I wouldn’t agree to marry him, he finally told me that Father would have been pleased. And I believed him.’ Shivering a little, Kate prepared the coup de grâce in her mind and then ruthlessly delivered it. ‘At such a time and on such a subject, he wouldn’t lie. And if you’d seen his face when I told him of Father’s death, you’d be as sure of that as I am.’

  A silent deluge began to cascade down the pale face and, for a moment, Kate thought she’d misjudged it. Then, chokingly and with hands outstretched, Dorothy spoke her name.

  Kate discovered that her own lashes were wet. But when she felt Dorothy’s arms close about her she knew that the long withdrawal was over and the process of grieving about to begin. And that tomorrow, God willing, she might be able to tell her mother the truth about Eden’s marriage.

  * * *

  While Dorothy slowly picked up the threads of her life and tried, with only moderate success, to come to terms with the prospect of acquiring Luciano Falcieri del Santi as a son-in-law, the Queen fled abroad to avoid being captured by Lord Essex, eleven hundred Irish under Alastair M’Coll Keitach landed in Scotland and Sir William Waller failed, for the second time, to take Oxford. The first brought the King’s army down about the earl’s ears, forcing him to surrender Fowey and escape by sea … and the second, though no one as yet suspected it, marked the beginning of a quite spectacular year in His Majesty’s fortunes north of the border. But it was Waller’s sulky withdrawal to Farnham that had the greatest, if indirect, effect on Thorne Ash; and the first sign of it was that Captain Ambrose failed to reappear with the accounts ledgers.

  Kate’s reaction to this progressed from cowardly relief to faint alarm and finally, by the time they were ready to start harvesting, to downright annoyance. The fellow might suspect that they weren’t declaring their entire revenue, but he couldn’t possibly prove it from the accounts she’d given him.

  She chewed her nails for a further three days. Then she donned her best riding habit and told Toby that she needed him to escort her to Banbury. She did not, however, explain why until they were half-way there.

  ‘You’re joking!’ he said. ‘You’re going to ride up to the Castle, bold as brass, and demand our ledgers back?’

  ‘Why not? And I’m not about to be fobbed off – so if your nerves aren’t up to supporting me, you might as well go home now.’

  ‘After four years of your newly-betrothed, my nerves are up to pretty well anything,’ he retorted. ‘Speaking of which - once you’re married, will I be free to get back to work?’

  ‘If it was up to me, you could go now.’ She glanced curiously at him. ‘I’ve never asked … but do you like Luciano?’

  ‘When he’s not being totally bloody maddening – yes.’ Toby shrugged. ‘I certainly respect him. You wouldn’t know this - but he’s a different person when he’s working. And the skill in his hands is beyond human.’

  You have no idea, thought Kate, colouring a little.

  ‘Actually, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you,’ continued her brother. ‘If you’re not going to announce your marriage and you intend to go on living at home after the ceremony – why are you doing it at all?’

  There were a number of answers to this. Some truthful, some less so – and none of them very convincing. Kate assumed her most astringent tone and said, ‘Why do you think? At my age you have to take what you can get.’

  Toby eyed her meditatively. Then he said laconically, ‘You’re saying the whole thing is Sir’s idea. I thought as much.’ And rode on, happy in the knowledge that he’d deprived her of breath.

  Banbury turned out to be surprisingly busy considering that it wasn’t market-day and Kate surveyed the bustle with a perplexity that verged on foreboding. North Bar was thronged with carts and barrows and Parson’s Lane was little better. Carefully avoiding both the Cuttle Brook and scurrying pedestrians, she led the way past the Reindeer Inn and Mistress Welchman’s cake-shop to the cleaner air of Cornhill. And all the time a small voice at the back of her mind whispered that something was wrong.

  Toby obviously thought so too and, dropping a light hand on Kate’s bridle before they turned out of the market-place to approach the Castle, he paused beside a fellow who appeared to be removing half the contents of his house and asked what was going on.

  ‘Haven’t you heard?’ came the grim reply. ‘They say the Parliament’s coming to take the Castle. The town could be full of soldiers in no time. And we all know what that means – for one lot’s as bad as another. What one side don’t steal, the other will like as not set fire to.’

  Kate and Toby looked at each other. And finally Kate said weakly, ‘Well that explains everything, doesn’t it? And if the threat of a parliamentary army is having this much effect on the town, I can’t wait to see what it’s doing to the Cavaliers. Come on.’

  The pair of troopers who challenged them at the gate looked more than a little harassed and Kate’s request to see Captain Ambrose did nothing to dispel this. It therefore took a good deal of insistence and the presence of an officer with only one arm before she and Toby were permitted to enter and taken under escort to the duty-room.

  The outer bailey was a hive of activity. A variety of cannon were being systematically greased and reassembled; a troop of green-jacketed infantry were being ruthlessly drilled in musket practice; and numerous cheeses and sacks of flour were being unloaded from their respective carts. Kate directed an expressive glance at Toby but said nothing and continued to tread meekly in the wake of their guide.

  It was quieter in the inner courtyard but the room into which they were presently shown was full of miscellaneous clutter and looked as though it had recently been used for everything except sleeping. There was, however, only one inhabitant; a dark-haired man who looked up from the sheaf of lists in front of him to gaze enquiringly at the trooper.

  ‘Visitors for Captain Ambrose, sir. Only he’s not back yet so Captain Tirwhitt said I was to bring them here to wait for him.’

  ‘The chamber over the gatehouse being full to overflowing, I suppose?’ came the gently satiric reply.

  ‘Couldn’t say, Captain Vaughan, sir.’

  ‘No. Of course you couldn’t. Oh – get back to your post. I’ll deal with this.’ And then, when the trooper had thankfully removed himself, the captain looked at his unexpected guests and, rising, said courteously, ‘I’m afraid your visit is somewhat ill-timed. Captain Ambrose is at present concluding
some business in the town and I’m not entirely sure how long he’ll be. Is there anything that I can help you with?’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Kate impaled him on a jewel-green stare. ‘My brother and I are Maxwells of Thorne Ash – and we’ve come to reclaim our accounts ledgers.’

  ‘Ah.’ Hugh Vaughan removed two half-eaten platters of bread and meat from a settle and indicated that they should be seated. ‘Yes. I believe he said something of it and, though concerned at the delay, was rather anxious to return them personally. The trouble is that we’ve all been rather busy.’

  ‘So I see.’ Kate cast a withering eye over the disorder. ‘But equally you must see that we can’t be forever awaiting Captain Ambrose’s convenience. So if you’d have the ledgers brought from wherever he has left them, we should be glad of it.’

  ‘I daresay – but it wouldn’t be proper of me to dispose of them without his knowledge.’

  ‘Why not?’ Toby decided that it was time he entered the fray. ‘They don’t belong to him – and he’s had them too damned long already.’

  ‘Quite possibly. And I sympathise with you. But --’

  ‘That’s your trouble, Hugh,’ said a crisp voice from the door. ‘Always too sympathetic by half. Now I, on the other hand, have but little sympathy at the best of times – and none at all when I suspect I’m being gulled.’

  Kate rose and faced him. She thought he looked rather pleased with himself. Then, before she could speak, he strolled forward, casually stripping off his gloves and continued smoothly, ‘Mistress Maxwell, you shall have my undivided attention in just one moment. Hugh … one of us ought to see that cloth safely bestowed and it doesn’t look as if it will be me.’

  Captain Vaughan grinned. ‘You got it, then?’

  ‘Of course. It’s all in the timing. With dear Jonas away at a meeting of the Common Council, I was bound to be served by the minions.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘He’ll come back having changed his mind only to find it’s too late. I just hope the Almighty is ready for the subsequent tirade.’

  Kate shut her mouth and swallowed.

  ‘Jonas?’ she said. ‘You’ve got Jonas Radford to sell you some cloth?’

  ‘In a weak moment. I fear his profits are down.’ Captain Ambrose examined her beneath raised brows. ‘You obviously know him.’

  ‘His sisters sew for us from time to time. I met Jonas just once. He’s appalling. But I’d have thought he’d bleed to death rather than have dealings with you.’

  The captain favoured her with a swift, glinting smile.

  ‘I can be very persuasive.’

  ‘I’m sure. But what makes you think he’ll change his mind after the meeting?’

  ‘Because he’ll have learned that there are parliamentary forces as close as Broughton and Warkworth. Hugh – are you going or not?’

  ‘On my way,’ said Captain Vaughan, heading for the door. ‘Oh – and Justin?’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Don’t let your achievements go to your head. And spare a thought for the unfortunate minions.’ And he was gone.

  Justin Ambrose surprised Kate by laughing. Then, perching negligently on the corner of a table, he said, ‘And now to business. You presumably want your ledgers back and I want to know why your farm rents are incompatible with the various acreages. Well?’

  Kate opened her eyes guilelessly wide.

  ‘Are they? I had no idea. As far as I know, those are the rents that have always been paid and I understand nothing of acreages. You see, I’ve never had to deal with such things before. My father and second cousin Nathan saw to all that. But Nathan’s left us now and Father … Father was killed just six weeks ago.’

  Precisely as she had intended, Captain Ambrose found the wind taken out of his sails. He had been about to observe that it was a nice try but that he didn’t believe a word of it … but that was scarcely appropriate now she’d dragged her father’s demise into it. And though he was absolutely certain she was deliberately acting the part of the helpless female, he couldn’t prove it - any more than he could prove those accounts were fraudulent. Damn.

  ‘My condolences,’ he said curtly.

  ‘Thank you.’ Kate was equally curt.

  Trying a different tack, Captain Ambrose looked at Toby and said dryly, ‘And what about you? Are you similarly ignorant?’

  ‘Oh – even more so, I should think,’ responded Toby cheerfully. ‘I’ve an apprenticeship in London so I’m rarely at home. But it’s extremely good of you to tell us that we could be taking more in rents. We can’t really increase them now, of course; but once the war’s over it will be a big help to Mother and the girls.’

  ‘I’m delighted to have been of service,’ came the sardonic reply. ‘But what of your elder brother? You do have another brother, I believe? Currently fighting for the Parliament?’

  ‘Yes.’ Kate’s smile was tinged with acid. ‘But Father’s death would probably have changed that – had it not been for your predecessor.’

  The austere face filled with wary exasperation.

  ‘Hugo Verney? What has he to do with it?’

  She took her time and allowed each syllable to arrive redolent with irony.

  ‘He was bedding my brother’s wife and has since run off with her. Eden found them together and presumably gave Sir Hugo the wound that took him to Oxford. Didn’t you know? So now, of course, Eden has nothing to come home for.’

  For a moment she wasn’t sure it had worked. Then, hoisting himself off the table, Justin Ambrose said abruptly, ‘All right. You don’t need to labour the point. You may have your ledgers. You may also – if the parliamentary presence in the district amounts to anything – look forward to gathering your harvest without me arriving to count every cornstalk. I trust that takes care of any moral obligation on our part?’

  ‘It’s a start,’ agreed Kate. ‘But you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t wish you well in your coming ordeal. If, of course, there is an ordeal – for, after waiting so long, I can’t see why the Parliament should choose to dispossess you now.’

  ‘Can’t you?’ A disquieting gleam lit the clear grey eyes. ‘It’s a simple case of Oxford not falling while Banbury flourishes. Ask Sir William Waller.’

  * * *

  Early in the morning of August 25th, the Roundheads invested Banbury, and two days later the Castle refused Colonel John Fiennes’ summons to surrender. The great siege had begun and, at Thorne Ash, everyone took enormous interest in its progress whilst simultaneously throwing themselves into the business of getting the harvest in.

  The shortage of men around the estate being so acute, Kate was glad to take on a pair of itinerant workers who presented themselves one day in the yard. Both claimed to have served in the army but were reluctant to say precisely which … but since one lacked an eye and the other, two fingers from his right hand, it wasn’t hard to understand why they were now reduced to seeking work door to door. Kate installed the brothers Carter in Tom Tripp’s old quarters above the stables, saw to it that they had a decent meal and decided to keep them on if they acquitted themselves adequately.

  In spite of the increased activity, her mind continued to return, hour by hour, to that exquisitely confusing night beneath the ash tree. She found she could make sense neither of Luciano’s reason for allowing it to happen at all nor the feelings that had motivated him to say what he’d said afterwards. She herself, on the other hand, existed in a limbo of joy for what had been and terror of what was to come; for though marriage was the second-greatest gift he could offer her, there would be nothing but ashes for either of them if he gave it for the wrong reasons. And that, she discovered, was a more truly frightening possibility than any other she could think of.

  News from outside came and went bringing little impact. Plans to make Prince Rupert generalissimo of the King’s forces apparently ground to a halt when it was learned that his elder brother, Charles Louis, had settled cosily in amongst the enemy at Westminster; Oliver Cromwell and Lord Manchester continue
d quarrelling; and a preacher in London maintained that Lord Essex had been defeated because God wasn’t a Presbyterian. The Scots continued besieging Newcastle – unaware that the Marquis of Montrose and M’Coll Keitach’s Irishmen had taken Perth; and, in Banbury, Colonel Fiennes gave up hope of tunnelling his way into the Castle and prepared for a massive assault.

  By the time Thorne Ash heard about the latter, the harvesting was all but over and Toby decided to award himself a well-earned half-holiday in order to see the sights first-hand. He found the excursion well worth his while for, quite apart from the simple entertainment of watching Fiennes’ men busily constructing scaling-ladders whilst indulging in a sporadic exchange of artillery shot and insults with the Cavaliers, he also went home with two interesting snippets of information. The first was that the Parliament had finally succeeded in enforcing the sequestration order on Far Flamstead; and the second was that second-cousin Nathan Cresswell had attached himself to the slightly less than grateful besiegers as a sort of unofficial lay-preacher.

  ‘My God!’ said Kate acidly. ‘Only think how much he must be enjoying himself.’

  ‘But for how long?’ Toby grinned. ‘You know what he’s like. It’s not so much that he’s an arch-Puritan. It’s his air of sanctimonious self-righteousness that really sticks in your throat. And if he doesn’t watch his step, somebody’s likely to seal him up in one of those useless bloody tunnels. Not everyone,’ he finished cheerfully, ‘is as tolerant as we are.’

  * * *

  Colonel Fiennes’ grand assault was an utter failure and left him with a choice between letting his dead lie unburied or yielding to William Compton’s conditions in order to reclaim them. He chose the latter and ground his teeth in private. It began to look as though Banbury Castle would never fall.

  Equally beset and even more determined to hide it, Kate lived through the last days of September in a maelstrom of nerves. After the harvest, Luciano had said; but that had been nearly three months ago – during which there had been no word at all to indicate whether he was still of the same mind. And when one did not know whether one was still to be married or whether – if one was not – this was a well-disguised blessing or a catastrophe, it made the daily remarks and questions of one’s family particularly hard to bear.