A Splendid Defiance

by Stella Riley

  ‘Have we discussed it? I thought you’d just listed all the points against, without asking what I thought. Or did I miss something?’ She waited and, presently, when he did not answer, she said, ‘Very well. If we can’t have a future, let’s make the best of the present.’

  ‘Obviously you did miss something,’ he snapped. ‘Since we have no future, there can be no present either – if by that, you mean we could complete what we began a short while ago.’

  ‘Ah. We’re back to your promises and my virginity. Again.’

  ‘Yes – again. But that’s not all. I love you – too much to dishonour you and then risk leaving you pregnant. And there are things you don’t know. Also, if I’m honest, I’m not at all sure how …’

  It was the first sign of uncertainly that he’d shown and Abigail pounced on it.

  ‘Not sure of what?’

  ‘How, once I’ve had you in my arms and in my bed … once I’ve had you completely … how I’m going to manage to leave you at all. And I must.’ He looked across at her. ‘I know it’s hard - but please try to understand.’

  ‘I do. Regardless of what I feel, you’ve decided how everything will be and you want me to make it easy for you – but I can’t.’ Her voice shook a little. ‘You expect too much.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He was tight with strain and a small pulse hammered in his jaw. ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have told you. But it’s done now and if we apply a little common-sense, the situation shouldn’t become intolerable.’

  ‘It already is!’ retorted Abigail. Tears sparkled on her lashes and she knelt up to grip his hands. ‘I love you and you say that you love me. But all you’re doing is say no and no and no. No to everything. Can’t you allow us anything? Not even one small crumb of comfort in the little time we have left?’

  Justin let his hands lie passively in hers. He had no more colour to lose. He said, ‘No. I’m sorry. Abby, please don’t do this. I only told you how I feel because I thought it would hurt you less than believing what you believed a week ago; that I’m indifferent to you or just lusting after your body because you happen to be handy. But it’s not hurting you less at all, is it?’

  ‘No. It’s worse - because now I understand what you’re making us give up.’ She stopped and then said flatly, ‘Oh. Of course. You’ve known that all along, haven’t you?’ She waited and, when he remained silent, added, ‘I’m sorry. I had no idea.’

  ‘You weren’t meant to.’ It’s bloody crippling me; I didn’t want it crippling you, too.

  ‘No.’ She drew a long steadying breath. ‘If I can – if I accept that you won’t t-take me with you when you leave here – can’t that be enough? Do we really have to sacrifice everything? I want to be yours so very much … and to know, just for a little while, that you are mine too. Nothing else matters. Nothing at all. So can’t we forget about tomorrow and simply take today? Can’t we please just pretend?’

  He pulled his hands free and stood up.

  ‘Do you think I don’t want that? Do you think that, if there was no harm in it, I wouldn’t be in bed with you right now? But there is harm – to you. And I won’t do it.’

  Abigail brushed away tears with the heels of her hands and said rebelliously, ‘And you expect me to bow my head and do what you say. Just like Jonas. Well, I won’t. Nancy suggested that I —’

  ‘What?’ asked Justin quietly. ‘You’ve talked to Nancy about this?’

  ‘Yes.’ She came awkwardly to her feet. ‘She was quite helpful.’

  ‘I’m sure.’ He trapped her eyes with a hard, grey gaze. ‘But if you try any whore’s tricks on me, I should warn you that the effect may not be quite what you had in mind.’

  His anger confused her but only for a moment.

  ‘There are other ways.’ She smiled up at him through wet lashes. ‘I love you. What will you do when you find me in your bed or when I come close to you or touch you like this?’

  He remained perfectly still, letting her lay her hands flat against his chest. Then he said stonily, ‘I shall leave you. If you persist … if you try to force me in this or any other way … I’ll move downstairs and lock the door. Is that what you want?’

  Her bones grew icy cold. ‘You don’t mean it.’

  ‘I do.’ He stepped back from her choosing his words with care. ‘We can have total separation or we can go on as we did before without ever referring to this again. I would prefer the latter – but the choice must be yours.’

  She shook her head disbelievingly. ‘How can you be so – so harsh?’

  ‘Because it’s necessary – and because neither of us can stand much more of this.’

  ‘Please.’ Abigail started to shiver. ‘Don’t make me do this. I can’t bear it. Not now.’

  ‘You can.’ Justin had not had a headache in nearly a year but he could feel one building now and he frowned, trying to concentrate. ‘If you won’t decide, I’ll go.’

  ‘No!’ She caught his hand and then, looking despairingly into his face, released it.

  ‘All right. I’ll try.’

  ‘Not good enough. Promise me. No attempts at seduction – of any kind.’

  Anguish tore her in two. She promised.

  ~ * ~

  TWENTY-SIX

  April arrived and the days became weeks without bringing any material change to the general situation. The Scots Covenanters had Newark under close siege and Exeter, bulwark of the Royalist cause in the West fell to Fairfax but still the King made no public move towards surrender. By the middle of the month, Lucy was becoming gloomily resigned to the prospect of giving birth in the Castle. Tiring of unconfirmed Roundhead tales, Will Compton sought Colonel Whalley’s permission to write to the King. He did not get it and was sufficiently aggravated by the refusal to order another sortie – which, though it did the enemy very little harm, made the garrison feel somewhat better.

  Still lacking even one mortar, Colonel Whalley let his engineer take over and the nature of the siege, now entering its eleventh week, changed as sapping and mining became the order of the day. His men dug irregular, twisting trenches aimed obliquely at the Castle’s walls only to have the garrison shower them with stones and small grenadoes. They constructed tunnels designed to hold explosive devices and had one such turned against them when the garrison counter-mined. But they could not, they found, get inside – and they no longer expected to.

  In the midst of it all, Justin and Abigail trod a cautious path through the briars of their personal life. It was not easy for the balance was at best precarious. There were days when they forgot everything except the simple joy of being together; days when they talked and laughed and recaptured for a while the old carefree pleasures of their earliest meetings. And then an unthinking word or unwary glance would shatter the peace and bring awareness flooding back, to leave them stranded in an airless void until one of them left the room.

  All too often, when he was alone, Justin found himself dwelling on the possibility of claiming Trent. He’d thought he couldn’t swear the Oaths but that was starting to seem less and less important. If the price of keeping Abby was a couple of lies and a sour taste in his mouth, he’d pay it willingly. His problem now was the question of whether or not he could raise enough money to pay the composition fine. Thanks to the number of men who were in the same position as himself, there would be land for sale all over the country with the result that the price per acre would plummet. It was entirely possible that he wouldn’t find a buyer at all – or, if he did, still fail to raise the amount of money he needed. And, if that happened, he had nowhere to take Abby and would be back to selling his sword abroad again … which put them exactly where they were before.

  It was on the last day of the month that Colonel Whalley sent in the most startling piece of news that anyone had heard since the dismissal of Rupert. It seemed, incredibly, that the King had vanished. Slipping quietly out of Oxford on the 27th with only a handful of attendants, he had left Rupert to hold Oxford against the might of Fairfax
’s approaching forces and, for all that had been seen of him since, might have disappeared in a puff of smoke.

  Alone in the garrison, Justin seemed unmoved by the mystery and, while others speculated, he remained silent. And when the talk became loaded with individual plans for a future which did not include the war, he still said nothing until his friends conspired to force his hand.

  They were gathered around the dinner table when matters finally came to a head and the candlelight flickered fitfully over Justin’s shuttered face while Ned, Lucy and Abigail listened to Hugh Vaughan bombarding him with a series of flagrantly inquisitive broadsides.

  ‘Come on, Justin – you must have some theory to offer. Where do you think the King has gone?’

  Justin shrugged irritably.

  ‘How the devil should I know? The West, perhaps – or possibly France.’

  ‘God, I hope not!’ groaned Ned. ‘If he’s left the country, we’ll be left with nothing but unconditional surrender.’

  ‘Quite,’ said Hugh. Then, again to Justin, ‘I suppose you agree that a general surrender in the next few weeks is inevitable?’

  ‘Obviously.’

  ‘Ah.’ Hugh saw his chance and took it. ‘So what will you do?’

  ‘What do you think?’ snapped Justin. ‘That I’m likely to embark on a one-man crusade?’

  ‘Don’t be obtuse. I meant, where will you go?’

  There was a long silence while Justin stared mutinously down at his half-empty plate. Finally, he swept it to one side and said coldly, ‘I’ll go abroad. What else?’

  ‘And Abby?’ asked Lucy sharply. ‘What about her?’

  He looked bleakly into his love’s dark eyes.

  ‘When it’s possible, she will join her brother in London.’

  ‘And in the meantime?’ It was Ned this time.

  ‘In the meantime you can mind your own bloody business!’ Justin rose angrily. ‘What is all this – the Inquisition?’

  ‘No,’ said Ned curtly. He lifted one brow at his wife and then said, ‘It’s an offer. Lucy and I would like Abby to come home with us – and if you can control your blasted temper, there’s nothing to stop you coming too.’

  The shock of it stopped Abigail’s breath and she stared pleadingly at Justin, willing him to smile, to agree. But his face grew even more impervious and, in a tone completely devoid of expression, he said, ‘Thank you. You are very generous. And if you will care for Abby, I shall be more than grateful.’

  ‘And you?’ asked Abigail, rising abruptly. ‘Will you come too?’

  ‘No.’ He kept his eyes on Ned. ‘I can’t. But I thank you for suggesting it. And now I’m afraid that I have to check the guards.’

  It was late when he came in but Abigail broke all the rules by waiting up for him. She said flatly, ‘I didn’t know Ned was going to say that. Do you believe me?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Then why won’t you accept his invitation. Why?’

  He looked unutterably tired but he said patiently, ‘Because it’s just another temporary measure that wouldn’t solve anything.’

  ‘There’s nothing to solve. You’re just sacrificing us both out of sheer obstinacy.’

  The grey eyes reflected bitter hurt.

  ‘I’m sorry you think that. But perhaps it will make it easier for you.’

  She froze and then, choking a little, said, ‘I didn’t mean it. How can you think that I … Justin, I love you so much.’

  ‘I know.’ His mouth curled in something that was not a smile. ‘I know. Forgive me, Abby – but I’m going to sleep downstairs.’ And he was gone before she could stop him.

  *

  On the morning of May 6th Abigail awoke slowly to the realisation of two strange facts; the sound of gunfire had been replaced by the distant rendering of a triumphant psalm and Justin stood in the doorway of her room. It was the first time he had been near her in five days.

  ‘Something’s happened?’

  ‘Yes.’ His face was like granite. ‘We’re surrendering.’

  It was stupidly, the last thing she had expected to hear and her stomach heaved.

  ‘When?’

  ‘Today.’

  That was all. No explanations, no attempt to soften it; just a bi-syllabic death knell.

  ‘Just like that?’ Why?’

  ‘Because the only point in not doing so has been removed,’ replied Justin remotely. ‘A galloper arrived in the early hours and, having heard what he had to say, Colonel Whalley was kind enough to let him through. Yesterday the King made a gift of his person to the Scots Covenanters at Southwell and today, at his order, the Newark garrison is demonstrating his good faith by opening its gates to the enemy. Lord Belasyse, the commander there, thought we should know and has suggested that, since the war is clearly over, we do likewise. Will agrees with him … and so we are surrendering.’

  ‘But it’s so sudden,’ said Abigail weakly.

  ‘Yes. It is, isn’t it? But wise, no doubt.’ His voice was bitter. ‘I have to go. Whalley’s commissioners will be arriving soon and I’m supposed to be one of the welcome party.’

  ‘Wait!’ She rose abruptly. ‘Will you promise me something?’

  ‘If I can.’

  She stood very still, the long hair tumbling over the straight fall of her night-robe.

  ‘Promise me that, when the time comes, you won’t go without saying goodbye.’

  He looked at her with renewed longing and recognised that he had lost his will for restraint and was bound only by his word. The seconds ticked by in silence and finally he said unevenly, ‘I promise. Of course I do.’

  It was a long, strained day which the Castle spent wrapped in an unnatural hush. Abigail walked aimlessly on the ramparts for a time and then, deliberately avoiding Lucy, went back to sit alone in Justin’s empty room. Even the spaniel, she noticed dismally, appeared to have decamped.

  Dusk came and then dark. The evening grew chilly and she lit a fire for its cheer and warmth only to find herself incapable of absorbing either. And then the door opened and Justin came in.

  He was carrying a tray loaded with food, wine and two glasses and, kicking the door shut with his foot, he came across to place it before her on the hearth. His expression was profoundly irritable.

  ‘What the devil are you playing at – missing your dinner to sit here in the dark? Do you think I haven’t enough to do without following you about to make sure you eat?’

  She shrugged and turned her face away towards the fire.

  ‘I’m not hungry.’

  ‘Nevertheless, having carried this lot up here, I intend to watch you eat it.’ He unsealed the bottle and poured her a glass of wine. ‘Drink that.’

  ‘No.’ His abrasive tone added resentment to pain that was raging through her. She watched him pull off his boots, then reach down a torch from the wall and said, ‘Don’t. I like the dark.’

  ‘Possibly. But I don’t recall having asked you.’ He lit the torch from the fire and returned it to the sconce. ‘It’s only fair to point out that I too have had a hellish day. Now will you drink your wine – or do I have to pour it down your throat?’

  She did not need to look at him to know that, although he was fully capable of it, he wouldn’t actually do it. But her head jerked round and she said breathlessly, ‘Go on, then. You might as well add physical assault to everything else.’ And only then did she see the aching anxiety that overlaid the irritation. She pressed the heels of her hands hard over her eyes and said, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That was unfair.’

  ‘Not particularly.’ Justin stared down at her, everything in him churning with rebellious nausea. His hands clenched at his sides and he said carefully, ‘Please drink your wine. For me?’

  Slowly, she lifted her head and even managed the travesty of a smile as she picked up the glass. ‘For you, I’d drink hemlock.’ And then, before he could reply, ‘Tell me about your day. Have they settled the terms?’

  ‘Yes.’ He sat do
wn beside her on the brightly-coloured rug and pushed a plate of bread and cheese towards her. ‘They have.’

  Abigail broke off a token piece of cheese. ‘And?’

  ‘And Colonel Whalley has shown his magnanimity by being inexpensively generous,’ he replied with irony. ‘We are not required to swear any oaths and are offered passes to any place of our choice with the exception, I’m afraid, of London. The sick and wounded will be cared for here until they can travel and all officers are graciously permitted to retain their swords, one horse and half their money.’ He smiled sardonically. ‘They are not, I rejoice to say, going to make much out of me. For the rest, we are bound to hand over the Castle as it stands and leave behind all muskets, pistols, cannon, powder, shot and colours. Oh yes – and they want hostages against our good behaviour.’

  ‘Not you?’ asked Abigail sharply.

  ‘No. Not me.’ He paused and then said simply, ‘We’re to leave on Saturday morning.’

  Her hand shook and she put the glass clumsily down on the hearthstone. ‘So soon?’

  ‘Yes. You’ll have to start packing.’

  Her eyes were wide and dark. She said, ‘What about Lucy? The baby is only a few weeks away.’

  ‘They haven’t far to go and Ned’s been promised a carriage.’ As if from a long way off, he heard himself add, ‘You’ll travel in style.’

  She flinched. ‘And – and you?’

  ‘I’ve applied for an overseas pass from any port.’

  ‘I see. So … just two more days.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And then it’s goodbye.’ Suddenly the pain seemed to be clawing its way out of her insides and she folded her arms hard across her body to contain it. ‘Forever?’

  ‘I – yes. I imagine so,’ he said unevenly. And then stopped, as the mind-cracking truth pushed him, without warning, to the edge of the precipice.

  He could not go on with it. However honourable, sensible or right, he could not bring himself to part with the only good thing life had brought him in a decade; a warm, beautiful girl who, incredibly it seemed, wanted nothing but him and who he loved beyond anything he had ever imagined. There was no good reason for his change of heart – no logic; only a knowledge, deep inside himself, that he was not - and probably never had been - capable of giving her up. Claiming Trent required a small sacrifice and a good deal of money. The sacrifice he could make without blinking; and, as for the money … he suddenly saw that there was a way and wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before.