Garland of Straw (Roundheads & Cavaliers Book 2)

by Stella Riley

  ‘That for the prevention of new commotions, rebellions and invasions, and so that no one in authority may hereafter contrive the enslaving or destroying of the English nation and expect impunity for so doing, one hundred and thirty-five commissioners are to form a special High Court of Justice to try Charles Stuart, the now King of England.’

  ‘Commissioners?’ echoed Venetia sharply. ‘No Chief Justices or senior judges?’

  ‘No.’ Eden paused, reluctant to admit that the three Justices chosen – one of them being Cromwell’s own kinsman, Oliver St John – had refused to serve. ‘Those named held their first meeting today in the Painted Chamber at Westminster – but rumour has it that only fifty-three turned up.’

  ‘Are you surprised?’ demanded Venetia. And then, contemptuously, ‘Doubtless Henry Ireton was there?’

  ‘Cromwell, too; and Fairfax, surprisingly enough. Also Colonels Pride, Harrison and Whalley … Lord Grey of Groby, Harry Marten and John Lilburne’s brother, Robert. Free-born John himself has apparently refused point-blank to have anything to do with it.’

  ‘Good. And where do you stand?’

  Eden met her eyes and grimaced wryly.

  ‘I regard it as an extremely regrettable necessity which the King has brought upon himself. And though I’d sooner see him deposed than executed, I won’t oppose the court’s decision.’

  There was a long silence into which Sophia eventually said, ‘Then – since the two of you are never going to agree, there’s no point in discussing it further, is there?’

  ‘None,’ agreed Venetia, still looking at Eden. ‘How soon can I see Gabriel?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ll do my best, of course – but so far he’s been refused visitors. I wasn’t even able to admit Mr Morrell. And Sam Radford didn’t get past the main gate.’

  A hint of colour seeped back into her skin and she rose abruptly from her seat.

  ‘Are you telling me that Henry Ireton can stop me seeing my husband?’

  ‘He can … though that’s not to say he will. I’ll ask him.’

  ‘Do that,’ said Venetia. ‘And while you’re about it, tell him that I want to see him as well. Soon.’

  *

  With nothing to do except kick her heels while Eden spoke with the Commissary-General, Venetia decided to spend the next day taking Sophia to meet the Morrells.

  Annis received them with surprised pleasure. Jack, recalling the white mouse once bestowed on Gabriel, asked Sophia if she had any idea how jealous he himself had been at the time. Bryony, however, merely sat down beside Venetia and held her hand rather tightly, saying, ‘If you didn’t love him, you wouldn’t be here. And that being so, I know exactly how you must feel.’

  Jack sighed. ‘Well done, Bryony. So much for the courtesies and my own feeble attempts to lighten the gloom.’ Then, bluntly, to Venetia, ‘Does anything about this situation make sense to you?’

  ‘In a way. It seems that Gabriel has an anonymous enemy. One who wishes to kill him – and did kill Wat Larkin – and who has now laid information regarding the escape of Francis Langley and Mr Radford’s brother-in-law.’

  Silence lapped the edges of the room and three pairs of horrified, incredulous eyes glued themselves to her face. Finally, stalking away to the window, Jack said, ‘And why the hell didn’t Major Maxwell tell us any of this?’

  ‘I don’t think he knows – though I won’t be sure until I’m able to speak with Gabriel. And that may not be as soon as I’d like.’

  Annis said, ‘They can’t stop you seeing him, surely? Jack was refused on the excuse of not being blood-kin. But you’re his wife, for heaven’s sake!’

  ‘Quite. And if Eden can’t get the permission I need, I’ll be pointing that out to Henry Ireton personally.’

  ‘Tell him that keeping husband and wife asunder is contrary to God’s law,’ advised Bryony. ‘If it worked for Elizabeth Lilburne, it ought to work for you.’

  Venetia smiled grimly. ‘Thank you. I will.’

  Jack swung back to face her.

  ‘Speaking for myself, I can only think of one man likely to wish Gabriel harm.’

  She held his gaze.

  ‘It isn’t Ellis. Gabriel is convinced of that.’

  ‘Oh.’ A pause. ‘Are you sure he’s not mistaken?’

  ‘Yes. Ellis isn’t clever enough to fool Gabriel and particularly not after Wat’s death. Also, paid assassins aren’t his style. He likes an audience.’

  ‘But if it isn’t him,’ objected Bryony, ‘who is it?’

  ‘Someone who knew that Francis Langley and Justin Ambrose didn’t escape without help,’ replied Venetia. ‘Namely: Eden Maxwell, Sam Radford and his sister – and myself. Except, of course, that it isn’t any of us.’

  Bryony stared at her uncertainly.

  ‘You’re saying Gabriel let Sam’s brother-in-law go and that Sam knew?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But he never breathed a word to me!’

  Annis looked at her husband. ‘Did you know?’

  ‘No.’ Jack frowned thoughtfully. ‘Gabriel played his cards close to his chest but not, it would seem, closely enough. Because, since we can acquit those who were actually in on the plot, someone else must have found out.’

  ‘It’s hard to see how,’ remarked Venetia. ‘We were so careful – and I drugged the guards myself.’

  ‘They might have worked it out afterwards.’

  ‘I doubt it. But even if they did – what then? Who did they tell? For if the attack in Moorfields was part of the pattern, Gabriel’s enemy has been busy since last May. And the fire in the workshop happened on the same night as the escape – which would suggest it had already been planned.’ Venetia drew a long, bracing breath. ‘But you’re right. We have to start somewhere. So I’ll ask Eden to interrogate the guards and I’ll see Henry Ireton in the hope that he’ll tell me the name of his informant. It’s not much but it’s all we’ve got. And surely to God, whoever it is can’t be so clever that they haven’t left a clue somewhere?’

  *

  Eden returned to Cheapside that evening with the information that the House of Commons had commissioned a new Great Seal and the Lords had resumed their feeble opposition to the trial. He also told Venetia that Ireton had refused her request to visit her husband but was willing to spare her a few minutes of his time on the following afternoon at Whitehall. To his surprise, she accepted this with perfect calm and the merest hint of a smile. He was relieved. Sophia, on the other hand, said, ‘Venetia – I know how you feel and I sympathise. But it won’t do any good to lose your temper with the Commissary-General.’

  ‘I’m not planning to lose my temper,’ came the remote reply. ‘Then again, I can’t promise I won’t.’

  Having steadfastly refused to let Sophia accompany her, Venetia duly presented herself outside the room Ireton had appropriated as an office and was kept waiting for almost half an hour. She had, of course, expected this; what she hadn’t expected was the sudden rush of emotion produced by Whitehall itself. The ghostly echoes of music, the rustle of silks and the murmur of long-gone voices, all drowned out by booted feet ringing on the stone; the shades of a small, dignified King and his vivacious, sharp-eyed Queen, banished by uniformed soldiers and black-clad lawyers. The past … gone forever.

  Commissary-General Ireton received her with chilly courtesy and a repetition of his earlier refusal. Venetia smiled sweetly, accepted a chair he hadn’t offered and suggested that perhaps he hadn’t considered the matter sufficiently. Then she used the argument proffered by Bryony and watched him recognise it.

  ‘Like the devil, Mr Lilburne has a quantity of good tunes,’ he remarked acidly. And then, ‘Very well, Mistress Brandon. You may have an hour with your husband tomorrow – and I will send the necessary instructions to the Tower. I trust that satisfies you?’

  ‘It’s a start,’ agreed Venetia. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Not at all. And now, if you will excuse me, I have a meeting of the Officers’ Counc
il to attend.’

  Her mouth curled derisively but she repressed the urge to remark that, since it now formed the effective government of the Kingdom, the Council was doubtless kept suitably busy and said instead, ‘There’s something else.’

  The dark eyes surveyed her impatiently.

  ‘Indeed?’

  ‘Yes. To begin with, there’s the matter of the twenty-five counterfeit sovereigns. They were sent to me in payment of a debt; and I, doubting their authenticity, put them away where they could do no harm. Gabriel knew nothing about them.’

  ‘I see.’ Ireton pulled a quill thoughtfully between his fingers. ‘And you can substantiate this?’

  ‘No. The only other person who knew of it was Walter Larkin. And, as I believe Major Maxwell has already told you, he is now dead. Murdered, in fact.’

  ‘By whom?’

  ‘Presumably the same person who caused Gabriel’s arrest by approaching you with wild, unfounded accusations about his supposed complicity in Royalist plots.’

  ‘Are they so wild?’ A faint, icy smile dawned. ‘Your own allegiances are well-known, Madam – and Colonel Brandon would not be the first man to be swayed by a pretty wife.’

  Venetia raised scornful brows.

  ‘If you think that, you can’t know him very well.’

  ‘Perhaps not. But then, I am basing my enquiries less on my knowledge of the Colonel’s character than on various facts … such as his flouting of my orders during the recent purging of Parliament, followed by his subsequent desertion of his post.’ He tossed the quill down on the table and stood up. ‘As for the implication that he may have contrived the release of two Royalist officers – that is something which I cannot discuss until the necessary enquiries have been completed.’

  ‘I wasn’t asking you to discuss it,’ said Venetia tartly. ‘I was asking where the said implication came from.’

  Henry Ireton expelled a breath of pure irritation. He had spent the bulk of the day in the Painted Chamber with eight less commissioners than had turned up the day before and no sign, this time of the Lord General. He had now to continue patiently discussing the thrice-blasted Agreement with the Council of Officers. And, if that wasn’t enough, he also had Gabriel Brandon’s tiresome wife sitting in front of him looking as though she’d taken root.

  Fortunately, another thought occurred to him. Crossing to the door, he said, ‘You are wasting your time. Contrary to your assumption, the information to which you refer came, not to me, but to Lieutenant-General Cromwell. And since I had no reason to query its source, I am very much afraid that I can’t help you.’ He lifted the latch and let the door swing wide. ‘I have the honour to bid you good-day, Madam. Unless you’d like me to call an escort for you?’

  He was threating to have her thrown out; and because Venetia didn’t doubt that he would do it and had no intention of giving him the satisfaction, she rose and shook out her skirts. Then, looking directly into the cold, clever eyes, she said, ‘The corridors of Whitehall are no mystery to me, sir. But I thank you both for your offer and your advice – and will take my enquiries to the Lieutenant-General at the first opportunity.’

  *

  Major Maxwell listened to Venetia’s account of her conversation with Ireton and then told her that Cromwell was unlikely to reveal anything to her which he’d apparently withheld from his son-in-law. Venetia agreed that this was probably true but insisted that it was worth a try. Then she asked how soon she could see Gabriel.

  Unlike Whitehall, the Tower of London had hitherto lain outside Venetia’s experience and she would have been happy for it to have remained so. She did not know which chilled her most – its cold vaulted passages or its grim reputation – and the thought of Gabriel being locked away in such a place was horrible to her. She shivered and, seeing it, Eden drew her hand threw his arm and said, ‘He isn’t expecting you. Since he clearly assumed you’d stay in Yorkshire and await developments, I thought it might be best if you did your own explaining.’ Then, with a grin, ‘In short, I’m keeping well clear of any potential explosion.’

  There was no explosion. Gabriel rose from his pallet as the door opened and froze, drowning in Venetia’s eyes. Then she was in his arms and, smiling a little, Eden closed the door and left them alone.

  After a time, Gabriel said unevenly, ‘You shouldn’t be here. Why did you come? It’s madness to make such a journey at this time of year when there’s nothing to be gained from it. I thought you were safe at home. You should be safe at home. And I should be flayed for being glad you’re not.’

  She shook her head. ‘Did you think I’d sit meekly by the hearth? You should have known better. And there is something to be gained – or, at least, I hope there is. I’ve already spoken to Ireton. And tomorrow I’ll set about trying to get an audience with Cromwell.’

  A faint frown gathered behind his eyes and he drew her down to sit beside him.

  ‘I think you’d better start at the beginning. What exactly have you said to Henry?’

  Concentrating on his face and trying, as yet, not to see the sombre, ill-lit room around her, Venetia told him. Then, at the end, she said, ‘I’m not convinced that Ireton really doesn’t know – but I couldn’t very well call him a liar.’

  ‘You do yourself an injustice,’ grinned Gabriel. ‘Given the right incentive, I’m sure you’re more than capable of calling him all manner of things. But I applaud your restraint and suggest you also employ it with Cromwell. If, that is, he agrees to see you – which is by no means certain.’

  ‘He’ll see me,’ stated Venetia flatly. ‘If necessary, I’ll sit on his doorstep until he does. And since he can hardly pretend that he knows nothing either, there is just a chance that he’ll tell me the truth.’

  ‘Don’t count on it.’

  ‘I have to.’ The amethyst eyes met his, dark with distress. ‘Don’t you see? It’s all I have. I can’t bear the thought of leaving you in this place. And if I don’t do something, I shall go mad.’

  His arm tightened about her and he said, ‘It’s not as bad as all that, you know. And the company is excellent. Where else could I take the air with the brother of an earl?’ He paused and, in response to her enquiring look, added, ‘Sir William Compton – who, incidentally, served in Banbury with Justin Ambrose and in Colchester with Captain Langley. Small world, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is in here,’ she sighed. And finally taking in the meagre furnishings of the room, ‘Eden said you were comfortably-housed. It doesn’t look so to me.’

  ‘Probably not. But then you haven’t spent most of your adult life in army quarters. And everything’s relative.’

  ‘In other words, you’ve nothing to complain about?’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that exactly.’ Laughter stirred in his eyes and his mouth curled in an enticingly wicked smile. ‘But the comforts I’m lacking are the sort which, under present circumstances, it’s better not to dwell on.’

  Responding involuntarily to his smile, she murmured, ‘Such self-restraint!’

  ‘Yes. Well, the alternative would be to knock Eden over the head and make a run for it,’ he replied, kissing her. ‘Unfortunately, freedom isn’t going to come any time soon. The powers-that-be are much too busy with the King’s trial to bother about mine. And, that being so, you may wish to consider going home.’

  ‘Not until you can come with me. Dick Carter can manage well enough on his own for a time … ah. Did I mention that Sophy is here too?’

  ‘No. You didn’t.’ Surprise marked his brow. ‘I always thought it would take an act of God to move Sophy from Brandon Lacey. Does she think I’m going to die?’

  ‘Of course not.’ She kept her eyes guilelessly wide. ‘She’s just as eager to see you home again as I am. And, if I’d stayed in Cheapside with just Eden for company, Jack might have got the wrong idea.’ She paused briefly. ‘You should know that I told Jack pretty much everything – about Wat and Ellis and so on. And I think Eden should know, too – if he doesn’t already.’


  ‘He doesn’t,’ said Gabriel. ‘Private conversations in here are best not attempted. So by all means tell him as and when you consider it necessary.’ He thought for a moment and then said, ‘How is Jack viewing the arrangements for the King’s trial?’

  ‘We didn’t really discuss it. But, in common with a lot of other people, he seems to be clinging to the hope that it’s all a huge charade, aimed at frightening His Majesty into making all the concessions he’s hitherto refused.’

  ‘And what do you think?’

  ‘That it may well be so but that it won’t work. His Majesty will never abandon what he sees as his God-given right to govern; and the trial will go ahead because the Army has passed the point of no return.’ She met his gaze with a hint of wry apology. ‘I should also say that, if I’m still here when it happens, I shall attend. The King may not always have been wise but he doesn’t deserve this. And though I can’t help him, I can at least be a friendly face in the crowd.’

  ‘It won’t be a pleasant experience,’ warned Gabriel grimly. ‘But since I can understand your motives, I won’t try to dissuade you so long as you promise to be careful.’

  ‘I promise. Of course I do.’ She smiled at him. ‘On the other hand, if I make a public nuisance of myself, they may put me in here with you.’

  *

  Getting to see Oliver Cromwell, remarked Venetia irritably to Sophia two days later, was about as easy as catching a flea. Every time you thought you had him, he shot off in a direction you hadn’t anticipated, dividing his time between the High Court of Justice, the House of Commons and the Officers’ Council with barely a pause in between. And Betty Cromwell could rival St Peter in the art of door-keeping any day of the week – but most especially when the visitor was someone who’d previously been rash enough to offend her.

  ‘In short,’ finished Venetia crossly, ‘I’m running round like a lunatic and achieving absolutely nothing.’

  It was this – coupled with Eden’s pronouncement that Troopers Baxter and Willis had no more idea what was going on than a pair of sheep – that finally made her decide that desperate situations required desperate remedies. And, on the morning of the 15th, she donned her dark green silk and set off for Covent Garden.