by Bill Kitson
‘ The soldiers of Queen Elizabeth’s army had been very active pursuing those of the true Faith within the region; attempting to enforce the policies of their sovereign. Thwarted in their attempts to apprehend a Jesuit Priest rumoured to be at large hereabouts they accused the Rowe family of conspiring to harbour him. They ransacked Mulgrave Castle, and despite being unable to find the priest or evidence of the family either giving shelter to him, or even of practicing the faith, the soldiers endeavoured to ensure the destruction of the castle. Perhaps their motive was precisely because they had been so thwarted. A simple act of spiteful vengeance in fact. To wreak their revenge the soldiers placed faggots of wood soaked in oil round all the castle walls and set torches to them.
‘On the face of it, protestations to Queen Elizabeth appear to have done little more than ensure that permission for the rebuilding of the castle was granted. In effect it may have done more; for the sequestration of the estates was not enforced and the family was left in relative peace thereafter. It is difficult to judge at this distance in time whether it was royal intervention that prevented further persecution. ’
Eve looked up. ‘You were right then, it was exactly as you suggested.’
‘It didn’t take a genius,’ I replied. ‘Just someone with a decent education.’
Eve poked her tongue out at me. ‘How’s your head? Do you want me to stop or shall I read some more.’
‘Carry on,’ I said. In truth I enjoyed listening to her reading to me; enjoyed watching her too. I liked the little frown of concentration as she struggled with the slightly archaic phraseology of the book which she articulated brilliantly. I settled back once more and moved my left arm across the pillow next to me.
‘OK, the next bit seems to be about the rebuilding of the castle and the people they employed. It sounds a bit dry, should I skip it?’
‘No, read it, if anyone can make it sound interesting, you can.’
She flashed me a smile. ‘OK, here goes. The rebuilding of the castle commenced two years after the destruction of the original building. When the work was set to commence the family engaged Craftsmen they knew would keep their plans secure and would undertake safeguards for the family’s future security. ’
She paused. ‘That sounds a bit odd. Why does he mention that? How does he know the builders were reliable centuries afterwards? Or is there something I’m missing?’
‘If you’re missing it, then I am too. As you say it seems a bit unnecessary. Read on a bit see if he explains his cryptic sentence.’
‘The family was aware that in order to ensure the successful completion of the special work they had commissioned they could only trust the undertaking to that most Secret of Crafts whose discretion could be relied upon completely.’
Eve looked at me, even more baffled. ‘What is he on about? What was so special about the builders and what was the secret work?’
‘Hang on a second.’ I sat up and my arm, from being on the pillow rested lightly around her waist. If she noticed, she didn’t seem to mind. ‘When it refers to ‘craft’ and ‘craftsmen’ does he use a capital letter?’
‘Yes he does, why, is that important?’
‘I rather think it is,’ I said slowly. ‘If I’m right it’s not only important, it’s got all sorts of significant overtones. It’s also highly amusing in an ironic sort of way.’
‘For goodness sake, Adam, stop dragging out the suspense. Tell me what it means, please.’
Without thinking I hugged her consolingly. She must have noticed that, but she bore it bravely. ‘I think Miles is referring to members of the ancient Masonic Craft,’ I told her. ‘Although nowadays the Craft is little more than a meeting place and social club for businessmen, at one time it was a powerful secret society wielding enormous influence. Nowadays a Freemason who is actually connected with the building industry is the exception rather than the rule. In the past, Freemasonry was not only powerful politically, it was also the natural place to go for the finest builders, architects, and stonemasons in the world.
‘The Craft is thought to have originated with the builders of King Solomon’s temple. That work took so long that several generations were involved in the construction. To enable them to pass the secrets of their art from one generation to the next and to prevent them from falling into the hands of unscrupulous rivals the Masons devised a complicated series of signs and rituals that new members of the Craft had to learn. Once they were initiated into the mysteries of the Craft, there was no going back. They had sworn an oath of secrecy that was inviolate, even on pain of death.
‘It’s fascinating to learn they were still operating in England in their original guise as late as the Elizabethan era, but I suppose they would have flourished under a Protestant monarch. What’s more relevant is the work they carried out for the Rowe family and the reasons they were chosen to undertake it.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The irony is that a prominent Catholic family should employ Masons to work for them.’
‘Why should it be ironic?’
‘Because Catholicism and Masonry didn’t mix. It wouldn’t have been possible for a Catholic to become a Mason, nor would a Mason be allowed to convert to Catholicism.’
‘Why not?’
‘Simply because of the confessional. A Mason had to keep the secrets of the Craft. Therefore he would not have been able to seek absolution without revealing those secrets. And a Masonic Brother was not allowed to pass those secrets to anyone but another Brother.’
‘Right, I can see that, it makes sense. But if that’s the case why would the Rowe family use people whose very beliefs were diametrically opposed to their own.’
‘For one thing, they knew they would get the best craftsmen to do the work. Even more important they knew that whatever they did would remain secret. Think about it, Evie; remember what Charlotte said about the family’s passion for secrecy and wondering how it came about. If they wanted some part of the new building concealing, not only from view but even from rumour, if they wanted it to be the deepest, darkest secret, who better to use than someone they could rely on to keep the secret, even on pain of death.’
‘You mean they asked the Masons to construct part of the castle that no-one else knew about? But where is it? What was the reason for it? Surely if they did, it would have become known by now?’
‘Not necessarily, Evie, not if the Masons were as good as their reputation suggests. As to the reason for it, think of the unsettled times, remember the religious and political unrest I mentioned earlier. What more natural than for a family whose religion and the priests who ministered to them were proscribed, wanting to devise a way of concealing such clergy and keeping them safe. What the Masons constructed for the Rowe family would have been a fairly sophisticated form of priest’s hole.’
‘You’re serious, aren’t you? A hidden room or passage that has remained secret for centuries?’
‘Maybe not entirely secret, perhaps some of the family knew about it from time to time, those who read the family journal, for example. One of those who obviously knew or suspected it was Miles; otherwise he would never have put it in the book.’
Eve settled back to consider this. My arm remained round her waist. If she didn’t mind it being there who was I to object? My thought process seemed to have transferred itself down my arm to my fingers which tightened my grip slightly. She resisted for a second then relaxed and turned to look at me. ‘Oi!’ she said. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Obeying an old tradition. It’s a well-known fact that patients fall in love with their nurses.’
‘Oh, is it indeed? And do the nurses get a say in the matter?’
‘That,’ I told her, ‘is for the nurse to decide.’
It was all rather light-hearted. If she thought I was joking, as I’m sure she did, then so be it. The declaration would have served its purpose if it did no more than plant the idea in her mind.
Chapter Twelve
‘I don’
t suppose there’s a sauna or Turkish bath anywhere in the castle, is there?’
My question took Eve by surprise, ‘No, why do you ask?’
‘I thought if I got in one it might help reduce the aches and pains.’
‘Oh, I see, that’s not a bad idea. I tell you what I can do. If I fill the bath with hot water alone and keep the shower room door closed it will create a similar effect. Then; when you get in the bath, keep topping the hot water up as hot as you can bear and soak in it.’
‘I reckon it’s worth a try as long as I can make it into the bath.’
I needed Eve’s help to get there. In the process I knew she would see me naked again. I didn’t care. I was feeling too lousy to bother. As she was helping me with the slow and painful process of getting into the bath she gave an exclamation of shock and horror. ‘What is it?’ I asked through gritted teeth.
‘I’ve just seen the bruising on your back. It wasn’t there earlier.’
‘A pretty sight, is it?’
‘Yes, if you like black, blue, purple, and yellow.’
‘I prefer it to red,’ I gasped. ‘I can’t stand the sight of blood, especially mine.’
I lowered myself into the hot water with some relief. Not much, but some. Eve was watching me, an expression on her face I found difficult to read. ‘Give me a call when you’re ready to get out. Don’t try it on your own,’ she ordered.
‘Yes, nurse.’
If the bath provided a lessening of the pain I didn’t notice it. I topped the hot water up twice; by which time the room was giving a passable imitation of a sauna. Eventually, when I’d had enough I braced myself for the inevitable. ‘Eve,’ I called out.
She appeared at the door immediately. ‘Are you ready to get out?’
That was going a bit far but I agreed. ‘As long as I can do it very, very slowly.’
If I’d thought getting into the bath was hard work, getting out again was ten times worse. Eventually, I made it and sat on the edge of the bath, dripping wet and with every nerve in my body protesting vigorously at this fresh abuse. Eve wrapped a bath sheet over my shoulders and began to dry me. I felt too wretched to protest. She did it with extreme gentleness. It hurt like hell. I watched her as she worked. My emotions as well as my nerve endings were all over the place. I’d started out by disliking her. Then the dislike had blossomed until I detested her. After I’d got to know her a bit better I found myself revising my earlier opinion until I actually liked her. I liked her more than I would have thought possible just a few short days ago. I wondered where the process would finish up.
She dried my upper body; then bent and dried my legs and feet. She straightened up and put the towel on top of the nearby linen bin. ‘I’m going to help you stand up,’ she told me unsmilingly. ‘You can manage the rest for yourself.’
When I had finished, I said, ‘OK, nurse, what now?’
‘I want to get you into bed as quickly as possible before you catch cold.’ She stopped as she realized what she had said and blushed. I pretended not to notice.
It was a relief to lie back down on the bed. Possibly the bath had done some good after all. I told her.
‘In that case maybe it was worth me getting soaked,’ she told me. ‘Now lie there whilst I go organize some coffee and sandwiches.’
I leaned back against the pillows. Lethargy was an understatement for how I felt. I needed to try and exercise my battered body and get some movement back into it. I told Eve my plan when she returned.
‘Starting tomorrow?’ she said, incredulously. ‘Adam you’re barmy. You can’t even manage the bathroom alone. No way will you be ready for that by tomorrow. Another week maybe, but no earlier.’
Missing dinner had become a ritual for me. That evening I didn’t feel up to more than a bowl of soup and a roll. I watched enviously as Eve tucked enthusiastically into a generous portion of roast pork brought by Rathbone. The butler’s habitually disagreeable expression seemed especially sour. I remarked on it to Eve.
‘He’s been told to get off his fat arse and do some work, that’s why,’ she told me. ‘Tony told him to wait on Charlie as well as you and now Sammy’s cold has got worse he’s got to look after her as well.’
After our dinner was over, Eve told me her plans for the night. ‘I’m going to sleep with you,’ she said.
This time I was unable to keep a straight face. Her confusion was immediate and complete. ‘I didn’t mean that as it sounded,’ she managed, eventually. ‘What I meant was, I’m not going to leave you alone tonight.’
I laughed aloud and Eve realized she had just made bad worse. ‘I’m going to stay here in this room tonight,’ she said, or rather hissed. ‘There, try and find a double meaning in that. If you need to go to the bathroom in the night you’ll never make it on your own. That’s only part of it. Twenty-four hours ago somebody tried to kill you. If it hadn’t been for that snowdrift you’d be dead now. Everybody knows you’re in no condition to defend yourself. What chance would you have against a desperate and determined killer?’
Put that way there was no argument. I was touched by her thoughtfulness and told her so. ‘Evie, I’m sorry I laughed, I really am grateful. But you need your sleep; couldn’t someone else take over from you?’
‘Who, for instance? Who do you trust enough? Who would I entrust you to? No, Adam, you’re stuck with me.’
‘I can live with that, it just seems unfair on you. Apart from anything else what would Harriet think, what would she say?’
‘She already knows, she thinks it’s a good idea, she said so.’
‘OK,’ I capitulated, ‘but I’ll only agree to it on one condition; that you lie on the bed and get some sleep.’
She smiled. ‘We’ll see about that.’
As previously she left one bedside lamp burning when she settled me down for the night then laid down on top of the duvet alongside me. Her regular breathing soon told me that she had fallen asleep. I did not find sleep so easy to come by. It might have been the aches and pains I was enduring that kept me awake; or it might have been the lack of exertion. The only other alternative was that I was distracted by Eve’s presence so close to me.
Whatever the reason I was wide awake at 3.00 a.m. If not I’d probably not have heard the noise. It was the merest whisper of sound. Not a rustle or a scrape, not even a squeak but a gentle combination of all three. If I had to describe it I would say it was the sound of a key being turned very gently in a lock followed by the ultra-cautious turning of a door handle. I looked across the room. The fact that my diagnosis was accurate didn’t comfort me in the slightest. I watched in a state of hypnotic terror as the door opened fractionally. I came to my senses; reached out and shook Eve. She sat up instantly. I pointed to the door.
‘Who’s there?’ she demanded loudly and leapt from the bed. As she crossed the room I heard the light patter of footsteps down the corridor. Eve flung the door open and looked to her left and right. She closed the door again and turned. ‘I couldn’t see anybody,’ she informed me then stopped.
I was laughing quietly, Eve frowned. ‘What’s so funny?’ she demanded.
‘You’re a fine guard, forgetting to lock the door.’
She pointed over to the dressing table. The door key was there on the glass top. ‘No I didn’t,’ she denied. ‘I locked the door and took the key out, then put the key on the dressing table. Whoever tried to get in had another key.’
‘Lock it again and leave the key in the lock this time, turned halfway to one side so nobody can poke it out of the keyhole,’ I suggested.
She did so and returned to the bed. As she got onto the bed her arm brushed against mine. ‘You’re freezing,’ I said, ‘get under the duvet for goodness sake otherwise you’ll catch pneumonia and I’d never forgive myself.’
She protested but I refused to take no for an answer. She settled down and soon fell asleep again. Unconsciously, she moved closer to me and I felt the warmth slowly returning to her limbs. Then I also fell
asleep.
When I woke up it was daylight. Eve was already awake alongside me. I smiled at her. ‘I’m glad you’re awake at last,’ she told me tartly. ‘I’m going for a shower, I’ll lock you in whilst I’m gone.’
She got up and walked over to the door. There was irritation in her every action. She opened it and I heard the scraping sound that told me she had locked it again behind her. The shower sounded a good plan. It was time I ventured forth on my own. Besides which I needed the bathroom. I made it, showered, and had just crept back into the bedroom to begin the task of dressing myself when Eve came back in. She stared at me; her eyes ablaze; not with passion but with anger. ‘And just what would you have done if you’d fallen?’ she demanded.
‘Waited for you to pick me up,’ I replied meekly, ‘and would you mind closing the door please, I’m stark naked, in case you hadn’t noticed.’
She slammed the door into the frame and stood watching my feeble attempts to dress myself with mounting irritation. The top half was painful but manageable. Underpants presented an insurmountable challenge; whilst socks were an absolute impossibility. She stalked over and snatched the underpants from me and helped me retain my balance whilst I put one foot after the other in them. She pulled them up; totally unembarrassed by so intimate an action. After that she helped me put on socks and jeans, then gave me her shoulder to lean on whilst I slipped my feet into a pair of casuals. ‘Thank you, Evie,’ I said gratefully.
‘You’re absolutely mad; you do realize that, don’t you?’ There seemed no relaxation in Eve’s waspish tone.
‘I’m lucky you’re here to look after me,’ I said, trying to ingratiate myself. It didn’t work.
My entry to the dining hall on Eve’s arm was greeted with great acclaim by everyone. That proved to me there was at least one good actor in the house. After breakfast I shuffled through to Tony’s study, supported by Eve.
Tony joined us a few moments later. ‘You’re very lucky; both you and Marsh,’ Tony said. ‘How do you feel now?’