It was the morning when her tutor was due to give her lessons and she just had time to tell her mother about the plan of the maze being promised her when he arrived. The Reverend Oswald Garner was a thin, scholarly-looking man with a gift for teaching that would never have seen the light of day, beyond his own children, if he had not been cast out of Chichester Cathedral by Parliament.
‘Good day, sir,’ Julia greeted him. ‘My lessons are prepared.’
‘I’m pleased to hear it. Await me in the library.’
She scampered off and he took a letter from his pocket which he handed to Anne. It was he who delivered all the communications that came from the family friend and she thanked him for it. Leaving him to follow Julia to the library, she went into the Queen’s Parlour and opened the letter. Its message was brief: Take coach for the sign of the George and Dragon at Houghton. R. will be there tomorrow.
She caught her breath. It could only mean one thing. Robert was coming home! Light-heartedly she sprang up the stairs and went to Katherine.
‘I’ve had a message that I’m to meet Robert tomorrow! Read this communication for yourself.’ She handed the letter to her mother-in-law. ‘Is it not wonderful news? The coach is to bring him home in secrecy.’
Katherine lowered the message to her lap and removed her spectacles, ‘If Robert is with the King, as we have believed all along,’ she said in a thin, tightly controlled voice, ‘he will be on his way abroad. Should he stay, it would mean the Tower for him. Perhaps even the block.’
Anne clutched the back of a chair for support. ‘We could hide him! The underground chamber is there.’
‘To conceal him for years?’ Katherine shook her head, ‘It was only ever meant as a temporary refuge and a route of escape. The risk is as great as it would have been for Michael.’ A barrier came up in Anne’s mind. She had always supposed that Robert would find some way of reaching the house to say goodbye if he had to flee abroad. There would have been a day or two, perhaps even a week to be with him once more. She refused to believe she had misread the message. Robert had wanted transport home and she would provide it.
‘Forgive me for saying it, but I’m sure you’re wrong in this matter.’ She was smiling, unaware that there was a look as brittle as glass about her that was giving her mother-in-law cause for concern.
Katherine could cope with her own frailty, accepting it as a natural outcome of old age under stress, but she feared for Anne, having observed previously how the strain of everything had been taking a heavy toll on her daughter-in-law. Anne was not one to sway compromisingly to the winds of misfortune, but was conditioned by her whole upbringing to stand rigidly in the hope that all would soon be calm again. The danger was that she might easily snap with an increase of pressure.
‘I shall set out this afternoon,’ Anne continued. ‘The hamlet of Houghton is not many miles away, but I want to be there overnight and ahead of time in case Robert should arrive earlier than expected. Watch for our return tomorrow.’
‘What if pursuit is closing in on him? Remember that Houghton is on the route to the coast. There may be significance in that. I am sure that Robert’s instruction that you come by coach is for your protection. In fact, I am going to write a letter addressed to my cousin in Steyning that you can show as proof you are on your way to visit her should you be stopped and questioned by those searching for the King.’
Anne took little notice. ‘Thank you for your consideration,’ she said, ‘but Robert will be safe at Sotherleigh for a while at least. He would never leave before coming home first. I’ve known that all along.’
‘Take Julia with you,’ Katherine urged. If Anne’s optimism should be doomed to disappointment, the child would prove a stabilizing influence and in any case Julia had a right to see her father again before he went farther afield. For herself, Katherine yearned with all her being to see her son once more, well aware that time was against her for any future meetings, but she knew she could not get downstairs, let alone ride any distance in a coach. ‘Julia would enjoy the outing and be company for you,’ she added to emphasize what she had said.
‘On this point you are right,’ Anne agreed after her usual little show of consideration to assert her position. ‘Robert will be so pleased to see Julia that it will help to soften the blow when I tell him that Michael has left England. It will also be a great treat for her to meet her father again on her birthday, making it an occasion she will always remember.’
That afternoon both Anne and Julia came to see Katherine before they set out. Julia admitted to not having been able to eat her dinner for excitement and Anne was like a girl again, a flush to her cheeks and eyes sparkling with anticipation. It seemed to Katherine that her daughter-in-law had become as blinkered as any cart-horse, refusing to see, or even contemplate, anything but a pleasing outcome to the forthcoming meeting with Robert.
Katherine reached out and cupped Julia’s animated face between her hands. ‘Give my dearest love to your father.’ Something of her seriousness and depth of emotion reached her granddaughter, for the froth of frivolous high spirits melted away and the lovely little face became almost adult in its wisdom, showing that the child had grasped the fact that coming events might not prove to be the holiday her mother expected.
‘I will, Grandmother.’
At the door Julia, following in Anne’s wake, paused on her own to give a backwards glance at Katherine in an exchange of perfect understanding. ‘Take care of your mama,’ Katherine implored in husky tones. The child nodded and went out, closing the door behind her.
The road to Houghton lay through some of the county’s loveliest countryside amid the rise and fall of the slopes of the Downs. Along some stretches of the narrow lanes the branches of the trees mingled overhead to form caverns of russet, crimson and gold while fallen leaves fluttered up from the horses’ hooves and the coach wheels like bright butterflies. Drawing near to the hamlet of Houghton the road climbed high, making the horses strain on their traces. There were sweeping views of soft meadowland and the chequered fields of small farms, clusters of thatched cottages and stretches of rich woodland, all tinselled by the late rays of the afternoon sun.
Then the sharp dip down the hill to Houghton began, the coachman applying the brakes. Julia, putting her head out of the coach window, saw the tavern lying where the road eased out to level ground again. It was huddled close to the roadside, a deep-thatched, black-timbered and rosy brick building of good size. Its sign hung from an iron bracket and was newly painted, St George’s armour gleaming and the Dragon puffing clouds of shining grey smoke and a scarlet tongue of fire. ‘We’re here, Mama.’
The coach drew up outside the door. Anne and Julia alighted to enter the low-beamed taproom where a cheerful fire blazed on the open hearth. The landlord made them welcome and his wife showed them upstairs to a bedchamber, assuring them that accommodation would be found for their coachman above the stables.
‘Have you many travellers staying at the present time?’ Anne asked as she glanced about the room, which was simply but adequately furnished, a cosy warmth prevailing from the chimney breast that passed through into the roof.
‘No, madam. You and your little girl are the only ones. But we can be very busy at times.’
Anne was certain this was a Royalist household, or else Robert would never have come near. ‘I’m expecting to meet my husband here. Would you let me know immediately if a gentleman arrives?’ She hesitated briefly. ‘He may not be using the same name as mine. These are troubled times for Royalists.’
The woman smiled reassuringly. ‘Have no fear, madam. We’re loyal to the Black Boy here. Every night behind locked doors we drink a toast to His Majesty.’
‘I should like to partake in that little ceremony.’
‘You are more than welcome to do that.’
In the taproom, tables for meals were set at one end, and when Anne and Julia ate their supper within the seclusion of high-backed settles they kept an eye on the door fo
r whoever entered. Mostly the customers were local farm workers and a game warden or two and nobody paid them any attention. Afterwards they sat by the fire until Julia fell asleep and had to be woken for Anne to take her up to bed where she slept again as soon as the covers were over her. Downstairs again, when the tavern closed for the night, Anne was invited into the innkeeper’s own parlour where he poured out five measures of sack: one for himself, the rest for his wife, his two grown-up sons and Anne. Together they stood in a circle and he proposed the toast.
‘Here’s health to His Majesty, God bless him!’
They all raised their glasses high and then drank. The Spanish wine was strong and although the others knocked theirs back quickly, Anne took longer until the last drop was gone. She had not expected to sleep that night, but as soon as she lay in bed the sack acted like a sleeping draught and it was bright morning before she woke.
Nobody had arrived in the night and after breakfast Anne sat by one of the taproom windows to watch the road. Julia went to the stables where there was a litter of puppies to keep her amused. After a while Anne strolled a little way up the hill, hoping to meet Robert on the way, but although some traffic went past and a local squire on horseback doffed his hat to her there was no sign of the man she awaited. It was nearly noon and she had gone upstairs to fetch a shawl, feeling increasingly shivery with nervousness, when she thought she heard horses. Her hopes had risen at the sound so many times already during the morning that she did not rush back to the stairs as she might otherwise have done. Then the voice of the innkeeper’s wife came calling up to her.
‘Mrs Pallister! Come down! The King is here!’
She flew down the narrow flight in time to see the innkeeper carrying four large foaming tankards outside to the road. Rushing after him, she saw the King and three gentlemen on horseback, one of whom she recognized but the other two were strangers to her. Disappointment struck at her heart. Robert was not with them!
‘Sire!’ She curtsied deeply to the King where he sat in the saddle. He looked travel-worn and weary, thin in the face and sunken-eyed with his hair cropped as short as a Roundhead’s, his clothes plain and his hat far from new. ‘May God be thanked for keeping you safe from harm.’
He gave her a serious smile of enormous charm. ‘We thank you, madam. Your pardon that we are in great haste and need to be on our way as soon as possible.’ He raised his tankard to her while helping himself to a thick slice of bread with good yellow cheese from the platter that the innkeeper’s wife was holding up for him.
‘I am Mrs Robert Pallister and I had hoped to find my husband with you.’ She saw a serious look come into his eyes and knew immediately that something was wrong. Close to panic, she turned to the other man she recognized, who had been dismounting as she came outside. He was Colonel Gunter, the old friend of the family who had sent her the secret messages, and his face was grave. ‘George! Where is Robert? What has happened? You said he would be with you!’
‘So I had believed at the time I sent word to you. He is still coming here, but at his own pace. He has been acting as scout for the King and late yesterday he ran into trouble. Colonel Warrender and his men shot at him in what appeared to have been an ambush. At first his wound did not seem to be serious, even less severe than that which he suffered at Worcester, but he took a turn for the worse this morning some while after we had started the last lap of the King’s journey to a ship waiting to sail for France. We had to leave him back along the road when he could not keep up.’
‘Dear God! Is he alone?’
‘No. By sheer good luck we met a squire of my acquaintance and he volunteered to see that your husband gets here.’ Vaguely she remembered the man who had greeted her an hour or more ago. ‘I’ll take the coach and find him!’
‘Do that, Anne. I fear he must be bleeding internally.’
One of the other two gentlemen in their saddles spoke up. ‘His Majesty is ready to leave, Colonel. We cannot delay.’ George kissed Anne’s hand and then swung himself back into the saddle. The King had a last word for her.
‘You and your family can be proud of your husband, madam. He is a brave man and should be remembered for it.’ He wheeled his horse about and rode away, his companions with him. She saw that half a dozen people had collected and they gave him a cheer as he went. Her coachman was there and she did not have to give him any instructions, ‘I’ll have the coach out in front of the inn in a jiffy,’ he said at once.
Julia was among those present, having come at a run at the King’s arrival. She had heard most of what had been said and had drawn close without Anne being aware of it. ‘Let’s get ready, Mama,’ she said starkly. ‘There’s no time to waste.’ Earlier that morning Anne had repacked the few things she had brought with her. She had paid the innkeeper and was outside with Julia as the coach appeared, others having lent the coachman a hand in the circumstances. Later Anne did not remember anything of this departure in her daze of fright. All she did recall was the coachman’s shout when a few miles farther on Robert was sighted.
She sprang from the coach. He was slumped in the saddle, watched over by the squire riding close at hand to support him by the arm when necessary. He looked up when he heard her call and managed a smile.
‘My dear,’ he said weakly, ‘how glad I am to see you. I’m in a sorry state, I’m afraid.’
‘Don’t talk. There’ll be plenty of time later.’
She watched anxiously as the coachman and the squire eased him down from the saddle and together lifted him into the coach. He sank back into her arms where she had seated herself to support him and reached a hand to Julia, having just seen her. ‘I didn’t expect to find you here, my child.’
‘We’re taking you home to Sotherleigh, Father,’ Julia said tremulously, taking his hand into both of hers. ‘You’ll soon get better there.’
‘I’m sure I will.’ His voice was weak. ‘I know there’s no place I would rather be.’
‘Grandmother sent you her most loving greetings.’
He gave a little smile again. ‘Is she well?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. Why is Michael not here with you?’
Anne intervened. ‘Hush, dearest. Rest for a while.’
He obeyed without protest, exhausted by the brief exchange. Sotherleigh. He was to be there at last. It came into his mind’s eye with a new-built look to it as he first remembered it in childhood and then the nightmare of the past weeks swept away that bright glimpse. He and Charles and the others who had been with them from time to time had been hunted relentlessly. They owed their lives to ordinary people who had risked all manner of dangers to help them. The King had endured much, once being hidden for a whole night in a cramped space behind a panel, a terrible ordeal for a tall man, for he could neither sit nor stand; on another occasion he had had to perch for hours in an oak tree while the Roundheads looking for him had passed to and fro under the branches. In addition, the King had been disguised as a woodman and then as a servant; he had starved in hedgerows and been drenched by rain, chased as an intruder by a miller and spent nights without sleep. Worst of all the discomforts were the borrowed shoes, never large enough for his feet, and the royal heels and toes had been rubbed raw and bleeding.
Robert felt Anne smooth his brow as he lay propped in her arms. There had been times when he thought he was never going to see her again. He had shared many of the King’s hardships and had eventually adopted the role of a scout, which had plunged him into constant danger. It was he who had summoned George Gunter from his Sussex home to help him locate a ship for the King. But that was all fading away. He was going home to Sotherleigh where the windows vied with the flints in the walls in catching the sunlight. Why had he been away? His thoughts were becoming confused. It could only mean he had been to sea again. But it must be his last voyage because Anne was with him now. So young. So gentle.
For Anne the journey seemed endless. The coachman was being careful not to jolt the wheels too much, and w
hen the road was rough he maintained a crawling pace. It was to her huge relief that she saw the coach was passing through the gates of Sotherleigh.
‘We’re home, my darling,’ she said softly to Robert when the house came in sight.
‘Father is asleep, Mama,’ Julia whispered.
Anne, bending slightly to look into his face, saw that he would never wake again.
7
Two days before the funeral a fisherman from the hamlet of Bognor arrived to see Anne. He had landed Michael and Joe in France and had been paid, not only for the voyage but to let her know that all was well with them.
‘I’d have been here before now,’ he explained, ‘but the herring shoals were keeping me busy.’
She was only grateful that he had come in the midst of her sorrow and saw that he was fed, for he had walked all the way, and rewarded him again for what he had done for her son and her servant.
Many people attended Robert’s funeral and afterwards at Sotherleigh Anne received them. It had become widely known that her husband had been on the King’s business and that Colonel Warrender was responsible for his death. This did not stop a few Parliamentarians from being at the funeral, for they were men who had known Robert as a friend and neighbour in happier times and wished to pay their last respects to him at a personal level, only refraining from calling at the house. Christopher Wren was among those notified of what had happened, but Anne knew there was little chance of her letter reaching Oxford in time for him to attend the funeral, and this proved to be the case. Several cousins came from Steyning and others from places no great distance away and they stayed overnight.
The presence of these house-guests caused Anne’s maid, Sarah, to use her initiative for a certain purpose. Anne and Katherine could not be consulted in their grief, and yet a chance had presented itself that should not be missed. She took some black clothes of her own down to Mary in the underground chamber.
Circle of Pearls Page 17