by Stella Riley
*
The wedding went well. Attended by her sisters and wearing a gown of sprigged primrose silk, Tabitha Maxwell walked down the aisle of Thorne Ash’s chapel and was duly joined in wedlock with Ralph Cochrane – whose smile threatened to split his face in two. Then everyone went merrily back to the hall for the wedding breakfast and the dancing. Venetia pinned a smile to her face and tried, somewhat unsuccessfully, not to let her eyes follow Gabriel. Then, just when she was least expecting it, Kate emerged at her side and said bluntly, ‘What is it this time? Another quarrel?’
‘No. Just a continuation of the same one.’
‘And which you’re still determined not to talk about.’
‘I can’t.’ Venetia smiled wryly. ‘I’m sorry, Kate. But it – it isn’t something I can discuss with anyone. Not even you.’
‘Then I won’t ask. I’ll simply observe that you’ll never mend matters by avoiding each other.’
‘I know. But he’s still angry. Too angry to listen.’ She sighed. ‘I’ve managed to turn a perfectly reasonable, even-tempered man into someone with a tongue like a lash and a glance that can wither you at ten paces. And if this mood doesn’t lift before we reach London, we’ll never have a moment alone. Gabriel will stay with his men and I’ll doubtless be thrown back on his foster-family in Shoreditch.’
Kate tilted her head and surveyed her thoughtfully.
‘That doesn’t sound very satisfactory.’
‘It isn’t – but there’s not a lot I can do about it.’
‘Then maybe I can,’ said Kate unexpectedly. ‘I can’t promise … but I think I may possibly have a solution.’
Hauled without explanation into the privacy of the bookroom, Signor Falcieri del Santi naturally made the most of his opportunities, which made it rather difficult for his wife to tell him what she wanted. And when, between laughter and languor, she finally managed to do so, he went on to raise some half-dozen objections purely for the pleasure of prolonging the moment. Then he gave her his slow, sizzling smile, told her to leave the matter with him – and permitted her to tidy her hair.
Luciano waited until the bridal pair were being noisily escorted to bed and then, taking a bottle and two glasses, went in search of Eden. He found him standing by the window of the winter parlour, staring out into the darkness.
Turning slightly and looking as though he’d have preferred to be left alone, Eden said, ‘Why aren’t you upstairs making bawdy jokes with the rest of them?’
‘For the same reason you’re not, I imagine.’ Luciano filled the glasses and handed one to his brother-in-law. ‘Or do you still believe we’ve nothing in common?’
‘Odd as it may seem, I don’t give it much thought. But I suppose, if I were totally honest, I’d have to admit to possibly having misjudged you in the past.’
A gleam of humour appeared in the night-dark eyes.
‘And I’ll admit that you may have had cause.’
Eden smiled faintly.
‘My God. Aren’t we being civilised? It’s a pity Kate’s not here to appreciate it.’
‘You can rely on me to tell her.’ Luciano paused briefly and then decided to come to the point. ‘In the meantime, however, she – and therefore I – would be glad of your help. For reasons which I haven’t quite fathomed, Kate is convinced that the state of unholy discord which plainly exists between your Colonel and his lady can be transformed into heavenly harmony by simply trapping them under the same roof.’
‘I doubt it,’ said Eden caustically.
‘So do I. But Kate has asked me to put the Cheapside premises at their disposal for as long as they are in London – and, since it will be some time yet before Tobias is ready to set up his sign there, I’m happy to do so. My difficulty, however, lies in offering rent-free lodgings to a man I barely know. And that’s where you come in.’
For a long time, Eden regarded him without speaking. Then he said resignedly, ‘Is nothing you do ever straightforward?’
‘Very little,’ shrugged Luciano. And, with a sudden, genuinely amused laugh, ‘But look on the bright side. At least no one’s in mortal peril this time.’
~ ~ ~
FIVE
Though less than ecstatic about continuing to reside with his wife, Gabriel considered it preferable to having his domestic problems picked over in Shoreditch. So when, after leaving Thorne Ash to resume their journey, Eden dangled the keys of the Cheapside premises before him, he merely said that – since they were likely to find themselves guarding either the Tower or Whitehall until the rest of the regiment returned from the North – Eden should live there, too. Then he sent Wat down the column to inform Venetia of the arrangement and went back to exchanging meaningless courtesies with the Duke of Hamilton.
Having been forewarned by Kate, Venetia accepted the news without comment and a well-concealed quiver of apprehension. She suddenly realised that it was one thing to stop Gabriel avoiding her but quite another to predict what would happen when he did. Also, if she handled her next opportunity as badly as she had the last one, the results weren’t likely to improve matters.
They arrived in London two days later; and while Gabriel completed the mission which, since he’d heard about Lucas and Lisle, had become more than ever distasteful to him, Eden and Wat escorted Venetia to the house in Cheapside.
It was larger than she had expected … and she was glad that someone had thrown sheets over most of the furniture. But, after nearly three years of disuse, there were cobwebs in every corner and a faint but all-pervading smell of damp. Venetia followed Eden from room to room while he unbolted shutters to let the light come flooding in. Then, when she had taken in the full scale of the problem, she cast aside her cloak and started giving Wat a list of her requirements.
By the time the Colonel returned at a little after ten that evening, they had wrought a semi-transformation. Fires were burning in all the bedchambers, with mattresses and linen airing in front of them; the parlour had been denuded of cobwebs and dust-covers; and a substantial meal from the nearest cook-shop stood ready and waiting on well-scoured platters. Gabriel, however, merely helped himself to a piece of pie and remarked that he was glad the three of them had managed to make themselves so comfortable.
Ready to drop with weariness, Venetia could have hit him. And because she immediately stalked grimly from the room to go and start making up beds, she did not know that, for once, she wasn’t the only one.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Mr Larkin said sourly, ‘Comfortable, we may be – but we’ve had to put our backs into it. And an extra pair of hands wouldn’t have gone amiss.’
‘You’re wondering what kept me?’ Gabriel subsided into the large, carved chair vacated by Venetia. ‘I’ve been delivering his Grace of Hamilton to Windsor. His less exalted fellows, of course, are snug in the Tower – along with a handful of similarly unfortunate gentlemen from Colchester and elsewhere. And we are to have the privilege of making sure they all stay there.’
The cutting edge was more evident than Eden had ever seen it. Exchanging a brief, expressionless glance with Wat, he said lightly, ‘Well at least we’ll find this place a reasonably convenient billet. Only I think perhaps we ought to engage a servant or two, don’t you? After all, it’s hardly fair to expect Venetia to do everything herself.’
The grey eyes examined him with cynical interest.
‘Her idea or yours?’
‘Mine.’
‘Good. Then you won’t mind seeing to it, will you?’
‘I’ll see to it,’ growled Wat. ‘I’ve not had much time for your lady in the past. And since it’s making you a pain in the arse, I still think it’s a pity you married her. But she’s ridden all the way here without complaining and today’s proved she’d not afraid to dirty her hands neither. So I reckon she’s maybe earned a touch more consideration – and a few less megrims.’
‘I see.’ Gabriel cast the remains of his pie into the fire and came abruptly to his feet. ‘Then allow
me to inform you that – inconsiderate though I may be – I sent a couple of fellows back to Brandon Lacey before we left Banbury to fetch both Venetia’s maid and a goodly portion of her wardrobe. And now I’m going to take my megrims off to the less censorious atmosphere of the nearest tavern. Goodnight.’
For a long time after the door had slammed behind him, Eden and Wat contemplated each other in silence. Then Eden said, ‘Something nasty happened at Brandon Lacey. Do you know what it was?’
‘No.’ Mr Larkin’s seamed, brown face settled into lines of pure anxiety. ‘He won’t talk to me. And in sixteen years, it’s the only time that’s happened.’
*
While Venetia attended to purely domestic matters and discovered, with some relief, that she was not pregnant, Sir Marmaduke Langdale was captured near Nottingham and the Prince of Wales sailed dispiritedly back to Holland. And while Parliament, once more under the sway of Denzil Holles and the Presbyterians, prepared for renewed talks with the King, John Lilburne and his associates presented it with a petition calling for, amongst other things, the abolition of His Majesty’s veto.
Despite its forty thousand signatures, the Humble Petition met with the usual fog of indifference. Learning of its failure on a visit, with Sam, to the Lilburne’s new lodgings in Brewer’s Yard, Bryony immediately said anxiously, ‘They won’t put you in prison again, will they?’
‘No.’ Free-born John’s face creased into its usual attractive smile. ‘At the moment, the Commons is busy trying to buy my goodwill with the lands of so-called Delinquents who never did me any harm. And some people are hoping I’ll second the charge of over-ambition that’s been laid against Cromwell.’ He shrugged. ‘All I can say is that those who think so don’t know me very well.’
‘You don’t think it’s true?’ asked Sam.
‘I think it’s absolutely true. The man is dedicated more to self-aggrandisement than to the welfare of the nation. But if and when I decide to strike at him, it won’t be behind his back.’
Sam grinned. ‘Can I quote that in The Moderate?’
‘If you like. I’ve already written as much to Oliver himself – so it’s no secret,’ replied John. ‘How is the newspaper doing, by the way?’
‘Very well. We’re selling every copy we print and making a reasonable profit – so much so that I now earn enough to afford a decent lodging.’
‘He’s moved into rooms on Tower Street,’ said Bryony proudly. And then, ‘But he works so hard I scarcely ever see him.’
Free-born John looked from one to the other of them with an air of mild discovery. He said, ‘Well, there’s a simple solution to that, isn’t there? Perhaps it’s time you considered getting married.’
A little later, Sam and Bryony walked down to Westminster Stairs in thoughtful silence and, unable to keep the words back any longer, Bryony said, ‘He’s right. We’ve known each other over a year and been in love for months – so why shouldn’t we be married?’
‘Uncle Jack,’ replied Sam succinctly. ‘You know he won’t hear of it. And who’s to blame him? I’ve only been in prison once but there’s no guarantee I won’t end up there again one day. And though it’s true we could probably manage on what I earn, it would be pretty hand-to-mouth.’
‘I know. But it would get better in time and at least we’d be together,’ she argued. ‘Then again, we’re never going to talk Uncle Jack round unless we start trying. And though he’ll say no to begin with, he can’t go on saying it forever, can he?’
‘Don’t count on it,’ advised Sam. ‘And what if he orders me never to darken his door again?’
‘He won’t.’
‘Considering that he warned us both to avoid this particular complication, I don’t see how you can be so sure of that. But what I’m really asking is whether or not you’re willing to take the risk.’
Bryony’s breath leaked away and she came to an abrupt halt, staring at him out of suddenly luminous eyes.
‘Yes. Are you … do you mean you’ll do it?’
He smiled back crookedly.
‘I suppose I’ll have to. But don’t be surprised if he kicks me out. Looking at it from his point of view, he’d be mad if he didn’t.’
*
Having decided that it would be foolish to form any sort of friendship with a man awaiting trial for open rebellion against Parliament, Colonel Brandon had carefully avoided Colonel Ambrose ever since Warwick – only to break his resolution within a week of assuming his duties at the Tower. There were two reasons for this. The first was that the summary executions of Lucas and Lisle continued to worry him because they spoke of vengeance rather than either necessity or normal military practice; and the second was that, with little enough to occupy his mind these days, anything was better than facing up to the real reason why he was finding Venetia’s betrayal so hard to accept.
So he sought out Colonel Ambrose and spent an hour discussing the Preston campaign and the Parliament’s chances of reaching agreement with the King, whilst trying to establish why the fate of this one man should concern him. Then he rode thoughtfully off to Shoreditch to announce his return to Jack … and make a few tactful enquiries of Bryony.
She was prowling moodily up and down the hall when he arrived and lost no time in dragging him into the seldom-used back parlour, saying rapidly, ‘You can’t go in yet! Sam’s asking Uncle Jack if he can marry me – and I don’t want them interrupted. It could be critical!’
Gabriel hadn’t felt much like laughing in two weeks or more and now, unfortunately, wasn’t the time. He therefore said gravely, ‘Dear me. This is rather sudden, isn’t it?’
‘Not to Sam and me.’
‘Ah. How much do you know about him?’
‘As much as I need to.’ Bryony hovered on the threshold, her eyes glued anxiously to the door on the other side of the hall. ‘I love him.’
Gabriel surveyed her over folded arms.
‘I’ve rather gathered that. But what do you know about his background … his family?’
She shrugged impatiently.
‘It’s perfectly respectable. His father’s dead but his mother is still alive and he has a brother and two sisters.’
His eyes sharpened. ‘Go on.’
‘What more is there? And why should you care?’
‘Humour me. Are his sisters married?’
‘Yes. One to a tradesman near Banbury and the other to a Cavalier with an estate near Newark,’ she replied edgily. ‘And now will you stop pestering me with silly questions? I’ve got more important things on my mind.’
Gabriel frowned at his hands. It was beginning to look as if Justin Ambrose was by no means the unprincipled libertine everyone seemed to think – and that raised a number of delicate questions. He opened his mouth to ask how Sam felt about his Royalist brother-in-law but was forestalled as Jack threw open the parlour door, saying testily, ‘You can come in now, Bryony. I haven’t killed him.’
Bryony picked up her skirts and ran straight to the shelter of Sam’s arm, leaving Gabriel to stroll unhurriedly after her and lean against the door-jamb. From inside the room, Jack and Annis stared at him blankly and even Sam, preoccupied as he was, looked faintly startled.
‘Don’t mind me,’ said Gabriel laconically. ‘This is one day when I’m in no particular hurry. And if Bryony has to wait much longer for your verdict, she may well burst.’
Jack grinned, crossed to shake his hand and said, ‘I can’t think why. However. Let’s get the recriminations over with as quickly as possible.’ He turned back to his niece. ‘The answer, quite simply, is no – and you know why. I explained it all back in January, on the day you both assured me that there was no question of this ever happening.’
‘But everything’s changed since then!’
‘So I’ve been told. But Sam’s beliefs mean that though he’s respectable today, he may be less so tomorrow. And you’ll probably be passionately in love with someone else six months from now.’
‘I won’t!�
�� cried Bryony angrily. ‘I love Sam. I do!’
‘It’s no use telling him,’ remarked Mr Radford bitterly. ‘He’s not taking us seriously.’
‘Be grateful,’ advised Jack. ‘If I was, I’d be forbidding the two of you ever to see each other again – instead of merely saying that you may only meet here in this house.’
Relief weakened Bryony’s knees.
‘Oh. Do you mean it?’
‘Of course he does,’ said Sam. ‘He and your aunt have decided that your infatuation will wear out more quickly if you don’t start seeing yourself as the victim of cruel oppression. Clever, don’t you think?’
Bryony looked at Annis.
‘Is that true?’
‘Well, yes. I’m afraid it is,’ replied Annis ruefully. ‘You’ve always hankered after what you couldn’t have – but it doesn’t last. And that’s the point we’re making.’
‘I see.’ Bryony faced her uncle squarely. ‘And what happens when you find out that what Sam and I feel for each other is different – that it will last?’
‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,’ he replied calmly. ‘But somehow, I don’t think we will. And that is all I have to say on the subject. You may now discuss this at length with Sam in the other room, if you wish; but, in future, you may not leave the house with him or meet him elsewhere unless you want me to impose even more restrictions. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Perfectly,’ she sniffed. And pulling Sam towards the door, ‘Come on. Since we’re to be treated as children, we may as well go and play.’
‘One moment.’ Arriving, almost without realising it, at a decision, Gabriel detached himself from the door-frame and fixed Mr Radford with an impassive grey gaze. ‘I spent part of this morning with a gentleman I think you may know. His name is Justin Ambrose.’
Sam was suddenly very still. He said, ‘Where?’
‘I regret to say – in the Tower. He’s to be tried for his part in the recent war.’ Gabriel paused and then, when the younger man merely stood ramrod straight, his face pale and set, added, ‘Do you want to discuss this is in private?’