Garland of Straw (Roundheads & Cavaliers Book 2)

by Stella Riley

  Neither of them spoke again until there was light and then Venetia said abruptly, ‘How did you get in here?’

  ‘Through the side door. It wasn’t very difficult. You don’t seem to keep many servants these days.’

  ‘Luckily for you, we can’t afford them.’ She paused, absorbing the marks of exhaustion on his face and the small puddles forming around him on the floor. ‘You were at Preston?’

  ‘Yes. It’s over. The army was in full retreat when I left it and in no state to fight again.’

  Her brows narrowed.

  ‘But Hamilton hadn’t surrendered?’

  ‘Not then, no. But I daresay he has by now.’

  ‘Yes.’ A new, different anger gripped her. ‘If all his soldiers wander off when the fancy takes them, I daresay he has.’

  ‘Don’t judge me!’ he flashed back. ‘It was a fiasco from the start. No artillery, no provisions and no draft-horses to pull the wagons; Hamilton saying one thing and Callander, another; three thousand men left uselessly in the rear as reserves. On the morning of the battle, the Foot were left in Preston while the Horse were nearly at Wigan. And the result, unsurprisingly, was an absolute debacle – to which my continued presence wouldn’t have made one whit of difference.’

  The fact that this was probably true didn’t somehow make it any better, but Venetia saw little point in saying so and instead coolly asked what he expected her to do for him.

  ‘I should have thought that was obvious, sweetheart. To begin with – a change of clothes, some food and a bed. Then, in due course, some money and a horse.’

  She stared at him irritably.

  ‘You can’t stay here – you must know that. Someone would be bound to find out.’

  ‘Not necessarily. This is a big house and you’ve always been resourceful. I’m sure you’ll work something out. And it will only be for a couple of days, after all.’ Ellis smiled at her and reached for her hand. ‘My dear, can’t we discuss this after I’m out of these wet clothes and have some food inside me?’

  ‘And how do you suggest we achieve that? I can’t do anything about food until the servants are all abed; and, though I presume some of your clothes are still in your old room, it will look very odd if I’m seen walking around carrying them.’ She paused, frowning a little. ‘There’s nothing else for it. You’ll have to stay here for now. But if you want to take off your coat, I’ll fetch a cloak to keep you warm while you wait.’

  None of this was quite what Ellis had hoped for.

  ‘Don’t put yourself out, will you?’ he muttered sulkily.

  ‘No,’ said Venetia. ‘I won’t. And let’s get one thing straight. It’s iniquitous of you to have put me in this position and, since the risks are mostly mine, you should be grateful I’m doing anything at all. So sit down and be quiet until I get back.’

  It was a further two hours before she decided it was safe to move him to a small, ill-furnished bedchamber in a little-used part of the house – and, by then, Ellis was becoming distinctly fractious. But once she had fetched him a dry suit of clothes and produced half a loaf of bread, a steaming bowl of stew and a bottle of wine, he regained most of his customary insouciance and said, ‘Isn’t this cosy? Quite like old times, in fact.’

  ‘Not from where I’m standing,’ came the acid reply. ‘Apart from this being positively the worst place you could have come to – do you think I haven’t enough to worry about already with Sophy ill in bed and —’

  ‘Is she? How very convenient.’

  ‘Your concern overwhelms me!’ she snapped. ‘But since you’re here, you can tell me whether or not you hired a band of bravos to cut Gabriel’s throat before he left London.’

  There was a long, thoughtful silence and, in the shadows of the room, it was hard to read his expression. But finally, in a tone of pained affront, he said, ‘Hired ruffians, my loved one? I? What a repulsive thought.’

  ‘You’re saying you didn’t?’

  ‘I don’t think I need to. The mere suggestion is offensive.’ He sat up so that more light fell on his face. ‘But do tell me. Did someone damage the bastard’s health?’

  It did not occur to Venetia to wonder why he didn’t ask if Gabriel’s throat had been cut. She was too busy evaluating the look on his face.

  ‘You could put it that way.’

  ‘Really?’ A malicious smile dawned. ‘Well, you can’t expect me to shed any tears over that.’

  ‘I don’t expect it.’ She was deathly tired and her temples were beginning to pound. And since she was also beginning to experience a strong urge to box Ellis’s ears, she said tonelessly, ‘I’m going to get some sleep and I suggest that you do the same. But I’ll be back before dawn to —’

  ‘Back?’ Ellis sprawled suggestively against the pillows and smiled at her. ‘You mean you’re not staying?’

  ‘Hardly.’ She crossed to take the key from the door. ‘What’s more, just in case you get any urge to wander during the night, I’m going to lock you in. Goodnight. Sleep well.’

  *

  Venetia arose before it was light with a firm determination to speed Ellis on his way – only to discover that he had no intention of budging. Still tired and taut with strain, she promptly lost her temper but was wise enough to do it quietly. Ellis merely demolished the bread and cheese she had brought and let her diatribe run its course. Then he informed her that he’d go when he felt sufficiently rested – probably that night – but, in the meantime, he needed her to pay a call on Lawyer Crisp for him.

  There followed a blistering silence until Venetia felt able to trust her voice.

  ‘Lawyer Crisp. I see. And how am I to do that without revealing that I’ve seen you?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter if you do reveal it.’

  ‘Not matter? Of course it matters!’

  ‘Oh.’ Ellis thought for a moment and then said nonchalantly, ‘You’re thinking that old man Crisp may put two and two together and tell the bastard I was here? I doubt if he will. But if you’re worried, you can simply say I got word to you through a third party.’

  Venetia clung to the tattered edges of her patience.

  ‘And why didn’t you send your third party direct to Mr Crisp?’

  ‘Oh … any one of a dozen reasons,’ he shrugged. ‘I’m sure you’ll think of something.’

  ‘Not this time. I’m not having anything to do with it.’

  Ellis lay back on the bed and folded his arms behind his head.

  ‘I thought you wanted me to leave?’

  ‘I do – and you will.’

  ‘Not,’ he replied, ‘until I’ve had word from Lawyer Crisp. And before you tell me to go myself, allow me to point out that I can’t. Half the country is out looking for fugitives from Preston and if I’m recognised in Knaresborough, it will create exactly the kind of furore you’re desperate to avoid.’ He smiled with overt, deliberate charm. ‘It’s important, my heart. Otherwise I wouldn’t ask.’

  The careless certainty of his attitude brought revelation bursting over Venetia like a blinding light. She said unevenly, ‘Don’t start showering me with endearments. If you cared about me at all, you wouldn’t be here wreaking havoc with my life.’

  The smile remained pinned to his mouth long after it had faded from his eyes. He said, ‘You’re overwrought.’

  ‘No. I’m just giving you fair warning that, from this moment on, there is a well-defined limit to what I’ll do for you.’ She held his gaze and when he didn’t reply, said, ‘I can’t stay long. The house will be stirring. What do you want from Mr Crisp? Money?’

  ‘Obviously.’ Ellis sat up and swung his feet to the floor. ‘But I also want to know if he’s found me a tenant for Steeple Park yet.’

  Her brows soared. ‘You’re leasing it?’

  ‘What else can I do with it? I can’t live there without bringing a sequestration order down on my head and, by the time the taxes are paid, there’s not enough left over to make the place worth keeping. I’d prefer to sell it �
�� but with so much land on the market as a result of people trying to meet their composition fines, Crisp says it wouldn’t fetch a good price even assuming we could attract a buyer. So my best option is to install a tenant and —’

  ‘Wait a minute.’ Venetia eyed him suspiciously. ‘You’ve plainly already discussed this with Mr Crisp which, considering you were all for staying out of his sight, means —’

  ‘That was before the bastard and I had met.’

  ‘Of course. Once Gabriel had seen you, there was no further point in being discreet. Yes. I should have realised that.’ Sarcasm dripped from her voice like honey. ‘And so that was when you sought out Lawyer Crisp?’

  ‘More or less. I’m afraid I can’t remember the exact date,’ responded Ellis, devoutly hoping that Mr Crisp would not recall it either. Then, coaxingly, ‘You’re in a foul mood, sweetheart. Things aren’t that bad, surely?’

  ‘Work it out,’ said Venetia, stalking to the door. ‘Since I’ve to go into Knaresborough, your next meal may be somewhat delayed. But I’m sure you won’t mind.’

  And she swept out, once more locking the door behind her.

  *

  The discovery that any fondness she’d once had for Ellis had somehow evaporated, occupied Venetia’s mind all the way into Knaresborough and half the way home again. And, in between, Isaiah Crisp listened to her carefully-phrased request with only partially-veiled cynicism before telling her that she might inform Sir Ellis that a potential occupant for Steeple Park was in view – if not, due to the size of the rent involved, securely hooked. Venetia promised to explain the situation to Sir Ellis’s friend and, maintaining her most limpid expression, complimented the little lawyer on finding a possible tenant so quickly. Mr Crisp replied that he had certainly done his best but that he did not consider seven months particularly rapid.

  By the time she had ridden back to Brandon Lacey, Venetia found that her mind was very clear indeed on certain points. Everything Captain Peverell had implied … everything Sir Robert had plainly felt … was true. Ellis was not, and never had been, the least bit reliable. She had always known that. But until today, she had never allowed herself to recognise that there was nothing in the world as important to him as he was to himself; that he was arrogant, selfish, mischievous and, when it suited him, patently untruthful. It was not a pleasant discovery and, for a moment or two it made her feel slightly sick. She had known him since childhood without ever really knowing him at all. Worse still, having stupidly given him her body, she’d spent four years convincing herself that the things that had gone awry between them would come right once they were married and that she still wanted to be his wife … only to find out that, had she been given her wish, it would have been the most catastrophic mistake of her life.

  Well, she was free of that now. Free not just of the feelings she’d clung to so stubbornly but also of the hair-shirt of self-imposed loyalty she’d been wearing since the day Sir Robert’s will had been read. She no longer owed Ellis anything and it felt as if a huge burden had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders. She was free.

  But for what? To make a proper life with Gabriel? He was her husband, after all and it had been plain for some time that he had his good points. Rather a lot of them, as it happened. She felt the beginnings of a smile disturb her mouth and instantly quelled it. This would never do. She was not so feeble-minded that she had to instantly replace one man with another … and sufficient to the day was the evil thereof. The only thing she was willing to admit to herself as yet was that, for some time now, her feelings towards Gabriel had not been what they once were; that the thunderous, Never! had somehow become a small, whispering, Perhaps.

  Having changed out of her muddied riding-dress and decided it would do Ellis no harm to wait a little longer, Venetia went upstairs to see Sophia. She found her sitting up in bed with the inevitable cat on her lap and Trixie curled up at her feet. She also found her claiming to feel perfectly well again and wanting to get up. This, as far as Venetia was concerned, was something best prevented and it caused her to spend the next half hour persuading Sophy that it would be foolish to take any unnecessary risks. Then she went slowly back to her own room, told her maid she had a headache and asked for some food to be brought up to her on a tray.

  By the time she considered it safe to look in on Ellis, the afternoon was well-advanced and she had decided precisely how best to be rid of him without further delay. She therefore slipped along the passages which led to the east wing and entered the room to find him pacing back and forth like a caged lion.

  ‘Where the devil have you been?’ he demanded. ‘My God – you could have been to Leeds and back by now!’

  Venetia placed the food on the table and said coolly, ‘I have other demands on my time.’

  ‘So you keep saying.’ The brown gaze was distinctly irritable. ‘Did you see him?’

  ‘Lawyer Crisp? Yes.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And I’ll tell you about it later,’ she replied calmly. ‘Tonight – when you’re on the point of leaving here.’

  For a moment, Ellis was completely taken aback. Then he said angrily, ‘Don’t play games with me, Venetia. I won’t stand for it.’

  ‘You don’t have a choice. You want to know what Mr Crisp said and I want you out of the house. But if I tell you now, you could be here for days – and I can’t risk that.’ She paused and awarded him a small, sardonic smile. ‘I’ll get you a warm cloak, food, money and a horse and I’ll be back shortly after midnight to escort you from the premises and satisfy your curiosity. Agreed?’

  Scowling, Ellis recognised that she had him over a barrel. This was the side of Venetia he’d always liked least; this ruthless implacability which nothing dented. No woman, in his opinion, had any right to be so completely unyielding. He thanked God that the war had come in time to stop him marrying her and said huffily, ‘You’re not the girl I used to know. I just don’t understand what has got into you these days.’

  ‘No,’ she agreed. ‘Of course you don’t. And wouldn’t even if I tried to explain it.’

  *

  As she had done the night before, she waited until the servants were safely in bed before she began her preparations. She bundled up the clothes Ellis had arrived in, collected a thick cloak from the closet in his old bedchamber and made up a generous parcel of food – all of which she stowed neatly in the saddlebags she’d left hidden in the hall chest. Then she went out through the darkness to the stables and deftly saddled up a sturdy roan whilst trying to work out how best to explain its loss.

  When everything was ready, she went to fetch Ellis and was relieved to find him fully dressed. Without giving him time to open his mouth and carefully shading the candle with her hand, she led him down through the silent house to the little side door – and from there to the shadows beneath the gatehouse where she’d left the roan.

  Ellis mounted the horse and said sulkily, ‘Now. Tell me what old man Crisp said?’

  Venetia smiled faintly and did so, adding, ‘I imagine you’ll get your tenant but not for quite such a fat rent as you seem to have had in mind. At any rate, I wish you luck.’

  He looked down at her face, shimmering like a pearl in the moonlight.

  ‘Is that all?’

  ‘Yes. What else is there?’ She hesitated briefly and then said, ‘Goodbye, Ellis. Our paths lie in different directions from here on. I think you know that.’

  His brows rose and he smiled with all his old, mischievous charm.

  ‘You’re going to settle for the bastard?’

  ‘If I am, it’s no one’s affair but my own. And I think it’s time you stopped calling him that.’

  Ellis laughed. ‘You’ve changed your tune, haven’t you? But perhaps, having made your bed, you’re preparing to lie on it. So I wish you joy of him, my dear. Not, it has to be said, that I think you’ll get much.’ And, kicking the horse into motion, he rode away into the night.

  It wasn’t until Venetia turned bac
k into the courtyard that she realised that Sophia, with an ancient fur-trimmed mantle over her night-rail, was standing there watching. Her heart gave an abrupt lurch and she said breathlessly, ‘Sophy – what on earth are you doing? You’ll catch your death!’

  ‘Trixie needed to be let out,’ came the characteristic reply. And then, ‘Don’t tell me who that was or what you were doing. I’d rather not know.’

  ‘And I’d rather not tell you.’ Venetia walked slowly up to the older woman. ‘But there are some things that should be said. First, that I neither asked nor wanted him to come; second, that I’ve done nothing I need to ashamed of; and third, that it will not happen again.’

  Sophia gazed at her myopically for what seemed like an eternity. But finally she smiled and said, ‘It’s gone, hasn’t it - what you thought you felt for him? I’m glad. And now I’d be grateful if you’d find Trixie and bring her inside. She’s breeding again, you know.’

  *

  Venetia collapsed into bed, slept like a log and arose much later than was usual. And that was how it came about that she and Sophia were just finishing breakfast when Gabriel walked in.

  Caught in the act of swallowing a morsel of bread, Venetia promptly choked. Sophia merely froze, one hand poised above the ham and her mouth slightly ajar. Gabriel looked quizzically from one to the other of them and then strolled around the table to pat his wife helpfully on the back.

  ‘What’s the matter? Did someone tell you I was dead?’

  Cheeks flushed and eyes watering, Venetia managed to stop coughing but still couldn’t trust her voice.

  Sophia blinked, made a vague sort of half-gesture and said earnestly, ‘Dead? Oh no, dear. If we’d thought that, I’m sure we wouldn’t be sitting here enjoying breakfast.’

  ‘Why not?’ He stripped off his gloves, tossed them on to the dresser and took a seat at the board. ‘One has to eat, after all.’ And, with a deceptively casual glance at Venetia, ‘Was my arrival merely an enormous shock – or just inopportunely timed?’

  ‘B-both.’ Taking refuge in her handkerchief on the pretext of mopping her eyes and still reeling from her hairsbreadth escape, Venetia struggled to pull herself together. If he’d arrived a mere eight hours earlier, she barely repressed a shudder at what might have happened. She said weakly, ‘We assumed you were still somewhere south of Preston.’