‘Leah, my dear,’ he said at last. ‘I appreciate your zeal, but Mistress Fletcher and I have an understanding. I am allowing her to spend time with the children while she is in this house. I do not believe this will be an extended visit.’
Leah cast Agnes a look that came close to firing blue sparks of pure malevolence.
‘This woman is a whore,’ Leah raged. ‘Bedding men for her convenience. The carnal act is for one reason alone, the begetting of children.’ She pointed a finger at Agnes. ‘It is God’s judgment on you that you have not been cursed with a bastard child.’
Agnes stared at the woman in stunned disbelief.
‘You bewitch men,’ Leah continued. ‘You are no better than the Whore of Babylon. Colonel, you must see that her presence here can do nothing but harm to the children.’
Tobias had turned puce and his jaw worked as he tried to formulate a response. ‘Enough of this unseemly spatting,’ he said at last. ‘I appreciate your concern, Leah, but Mistress Fletcher has my word. She is the children’s aunt and entitled to the respect that entails.’
Agnes glared at Leah. ‘I believe I am owed an apology for my rough treatment.’
Tobias sighed. ‘Yes, I think perhaps you are right. Leah?’
Leah turned hot, angry eyes on Tobias. ‘Apologise to a whore?’
‘Apologise to the aunt of my wards,’ Tobias replied in a glacial tone.
A shudder ran through Leah as she straightened. ‘Very well. Mistress Fletcher, you have my apology for the misunderstanding.’
Agnes raised her chin. ‘I am in need of fresh air,’ she said. ‘With your consent, Cousin Tobias, I wish to go for a ride.’
‘Colonel … ’ Leah made one last bid to re-establish her position.
Tobias looked almost relieved. ‘Leah, let me be quite clear. For the next twenty-four hours, Mistress Fletcher is my guest with all that implies, and she has unfettered access to the children. After that, she will be leaving.’
Leah, her face still white with anger, inclined her head. ‘As you wish, Colonel.’
He waved a hand. ‘I do wish. Now go, both of you!’
***
News of the commotion upstairs had reached the kitchen and set the tongues of the servants wagging. Both the old and the newer members of the household staff had been quietly appalled at the treatment meted out to a woman who wanted nothing more than to spend time with two children who were her blood kin. Daniel found himself the centre of attention from the curious servants and was glad when he received Agnes’s order to have her horse saddle coupled with an imperious demand for her boots and riding skirts.
He had both horses saddled and ready as she swept out of the house.
‘Do you wish me to accompany you, ma’am?’ he enquired for the benefit of any servants or soldiers in the vicinity.
‘Thank you, Lucas. Just keep your distance,’ Agnes replied, waiting for him to assist her to mount. She placed one booted foot in his cupped hands and he hoisted her into the saddle. After the long weeks of travel this was now a well-practiced manoeuvre, but she managed to exude an extra degree of haughtiness and disdain as she arranged her skirts across her saddle.
As she adjusted her stirrups, he recalled the heartbroken waif he had met in London. She bore little resemblance to this outwardly confident woman. He had to remember she had been quasi-mistress of this house for many years. More than that, she had been the mistress of an Earl. Only he knew that beneath that proud demeanour, her heart was breaking.
Keeping a respectful distance he followed her out of the castle. Out of sight of the village, he kicked his horse forward to draw level with her. Agnes drew in a deep breath of cold air, letting it out in a cloud, and gave him a rueful smile.
‘I can breathe again,’ she said, turning her face to the sky. ‘I feel like I’ve been holding my breath ever since Turner came to fetch me.’
‘Are you going to tell me what the rumpus about? It set every tongue in the house wagging,’ Daniel said.
A flush of colour rose to her cheeks and she recounted the events that had led to what she described as a humiliating interview with Tobias Ashley. The barely contained outrage exuded from her as she concluded, ‘Those poor children, Daniel. Leah Turner has them completely cowed.’ She looked up at him and a single tear rolled unbidden down her face. ‘I have decided that whatever else I do, I have to get them away from here.’
Daniel reached across and wiped the tear away, his gloved hand lingering on her cheek.
‘Agnes, you know that’s not possible,’ he said gently. ‘We are here for the gold. We can’t carry away two children. Be patient.’
She dashed his hand away and he straightened in his saddle. Her tears could avail her nothing. He would have moved heaven and earth to rescue the children, but he just couldn’t see how that could be accomplished without compromising everything else.
‘Let us get the gold away,’ he said, ‘then we can look at what best to do for the children.’
She sniffed and returned her gaze to the road.
‘Did you find the hiding place?’ he asked.
She glanced at him and her lips twitched in a rueful smile. ‘Unfortunately, Leah interrupted me before I could find the entrance, but I know where it is. There is a cavity between the nursery and the bedchamber adjoining. The entrance has to be in the nursery. Lizzie told me she saw a ghost, her father I presume, disappearing into the wall.’
A small spark of excitement flared in Daniel’s heart. The years of privateering had given him the scent for treasure of whatever kind, and he could almost feel the gold in his hands.
They turned off the lane, down the narrow path that led to Peg Truscott’s cottage. At first sight all seemed as it had the previous day, a curl of smoke rising from the little building. No horses or signs of anyone other than the good woman who lived there.
‘Are you sure they are here?’ Agnes asked as Daniel lifted her down from the horse, his hands lingering on her waist for a fraction too long.
The old lady appeared at the door and held out her arms. Agnes stumbled up the path, tripping on her skirts, to fall into Peg’s embrace.
‘Oh, my girl, my girl,’ Peg crooned, her eyes closed and joy radiating from her.
Agnes’s shoulders heaved with silent sobs.
Conscious that Agnes needed a moment or two to compose herself, Daniel secured the horses at the back of the cottage, where he found two horses already in residence in a ramshackle shed abutting the cottage. Entering by the low back door, he blinked, allowing his eyes to adjust to the gloom. A haze of wood smoke mingled with tobacco suffused the cottage.
‘What took you so long?’ Kit’s familiar drawl came from the direction of the fireplace where he and Jonathan sat in the two chairs. Jonathan had stretched out his legs, propping his feet on a log of wood as he puffed on a long-stemmed clay pipe. The dog had laid her head on Kit’s lap and he was scratching her ears while her tail thumped the floor.
‘What if we were Ashby’s men?’ Daniel demanded.
‘You weren’t,’ Kit remarked mildly. ‘We’ve been watching for you. Ah, Agnes.’
Kit gently disengaged the dog, who returned to her familiar place on the hearthrug. He rose to his feet and bowed as Agnes entered the cottage, followed by Peg, who shut the door firmly behind her, plunging the cottage into gloom.
Jonathan removed the pipe from his mouth and stood up, offering his chair to Agnes.
‘Mistress Fletcher, I can only begin to imagine what a trial this is for you. Take a seat and tell us what you have managed to discover,’ he said.
Daniel cast his brother a quick glance as Agnes settled herself on the chair. Jonathan Thornton had a charm singularly lacking in either Lovell. He wished he had Jonathan’s ability to put Agnes at her ease and instil an air of confidence in the situation.
Behind them, Peg resumed her seat at the table and began shelling peas. Daniel gave the woman a quick glance but she was humming to herself and did not appear
to be listening. Jonathan leaned against the chimney breast, tapping his pipe out on the stonework.
Agnes looked around the gathered group. ‘We only have tonight,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Ashby gave me until sundown tomorrow to find the hiding place.’
‘And it’s where you thought?’ Kit asked.
‘I know where the hiding place is,’ Agnes replied, ‘but I didn’t have time to locate the actual entrance.’
Kit paced the tiny room. He failed to duck to avoid a beam and banged his head. As he stood rubbing it, Peg Truscott looked up. ‘Mind your head, young man,’ she said, ‘This cottage weren’t built for the likes of ‘ee.’ Her hands stilled and her gaze scanned the group by the fireplace. ‘What is it you are seeking?’
Agnes spoke first. ‘We are looking for the entrance to a hiding place in the children’s nursery, a priest hole, probably.’
Peg returned to her peas, her fingers working without breaking rhythm. ‘Are ye now. I thought that place long forgotten.’
‘James knew it,’ Agnes said. ‘Do you know where it is?’
The old woman chuckled. ‘I’ve worked in that nursery since I were a girl myself,’ she said. ‘Ye’ll find the catch in the third panel from the door.’
Agnes laughed. ‘Why didn’t I think of asking you? Thank you, Peg. That’s saved us the search.’
‘What’s the garrison strength?’ Jonathan addressed Daniel.
‘I’ve counted twenty-four troopers. They have a token guard on the main entrance but the kitchen entrance is unguarded.’
‘What’s the best way to get inside?’
‘Leave the horses in the trees beside the gate to the kitchen garden,’ Agnes said. ‘Daniel can let you in through the kitchens and I can meet you at the top of the servant stairs and guide you from there.’
‘What about your guard?’ Daniel asked.
‘Guard? He’s got you under guard?’ Kit stopped his pacing.
‘If you call a large, burly soldier who appears to be in residence outside my bedchamber a guard, then yes, I am,’ Agnes said. ‘I think he is intended more to prevent me accessing the children than to prevent any other kind of mischief on my part.’
‘That’s a problem,’ Jonathan said. ‘We need you. Any chance of slipping past him?’
Agnes shook her head. ‘Only if he’s asleep … but he’s not the only difficulty. There’s the children and their maid. They all sleep in the nursery.’
‘I’ve an answer to that.’ Peg Truscott rose to her feet and crossed to a cupboard beside the fireplace. Inside, the shelves were packed with clay pots and mysterious packages. She pulled one out, shook her head, and put it back again.
‘Ah, here it is. Tincture of poppy.’ She held up a flask. ‘‘Tis a sleeping draught of my own recipe. Will knock out a horse.’
Kit put his arm around the woman’s shoulders and kissed the top of her head. ‘You are a marvel, Mistress Truscott. So all you have to do, Agnes, is get two children and two adults to drink some of this. Any ideas?’
Agnes caught the scepticism in his tone. ‘If I take supper with the children … I am loath to drug them though.’
Jonathan looked at her, his eyes narrowed in thought. ‘Do what you think is right, Agnes. Will there be much to carry?’
Agnes shook her head. ‘I saw four satchels. I don’t imagine James upended the contents into one great chest. He would have wanted it portable.’
‘How heavy are they?’ Kit asked.
‘Four hundred coins means one hundred coins per bag.’ Jonathan looked around. ‘Does anyone have a Unite?’
Kit undid his purse and tossed the gold coin to him. Jonathan picked it up, weighing it in his hand.
‘Four satchels is easy enough. Excuse us, Mistress Truscott, I need your table.’
With a heavy sigh, Peg moved the peas and took her own seat by the fire as Jonathan cleared a space on the table and gestured for them all to sit down. He produced a crumpled sheet of paper and a stick of charcoal from his travelling bag.
‘Draw us a plan of the castle, Agnes, and the best route to get there and away undetected.’
Agnes complied and the men leaned in closer, asking questions, confirming plans.
Setting the charcoal down, Agnes looked around the table at the grim faces of the men.
‘It’s not just the gold. I am bringing the children.’
Kit glanced at Daniel. ‘The children? When did they become part of the plan?’
Jonathan straightened, running his hand through his hair. ‘Agnes, I … we understand your concern, but we have limited resources. I just don’t see how we can carry out two children as well as the gold.’
Agnes stiffened. ‘The children come or this is the end of my co-operation.’
‘This is madness,’ Kit said. ‘The children are not your responsibility, Agnes. They are safe enough where they are.’
‘No, they’re not,’ Agnes said, her voice rising in distress. ‘Leah Turner beats them and I fear for Henry’s life. Tobias covets the title. They are only little … children die … ’ She broke off, fighting back tears.
Peg rose to her feet and put her arms around Agnes. ‘They’re right, dearest, you can’t just make off with ‘em. You know that. You’d have the whole wrath of Ashby and his soldiers on your heels.’
Jonathan swept the plan off the table and consigned it to the flames, where it flared brightly before dying into the peat. With his hands on his hips his gaze rested on Agnes.
‘Our mission is the gold, Agnes.’
She opened her mouth to protest but he held up his hand. ‘I do not mean to be heartless but think of it. Peg’s right, if you take the children now, you will be pursued from one end of England to the other as a kidnapper.’ He laid a hand on her shoulder. ‘Agnes, I know what it is to risk your life for a child, and I know the trouble it brought me. The days of men like Tobias Ashby are numbered. The King will return within months and then I will be in a position to assist you in petitioning him for custody of the children. I have, or at least I had, some little influence with Charles. Please, I counsel patience.’
Agnes looked away, her fingers balled in a fist. She knew he was right but every instinct in her cried out to liberate her child.
‘Patience is not one of my virtues,’ she said between stiff lips.
‘Evidently,’ said Kit. ‘You and my brother have that at least in common. So we are agreed?’
Everyone nodded, although Agnes’s acquiescence lacked enthusiasm. If Kit and Jonathan were successful in liberating the gold without alerting the castle garrison, then Agnes and Daniel would remain within the castle. Agnes could show Tobias the empty hiding place, hoping he would assume that James had divested himself of the gold and Agnes and Daniel could leave Charvaley as they had come, through the front door.
‘Until tonight,’ Jonathan said.
Chapter 14
The clock on the church tower struck two. Glancing back to ensure the bolsters she had stuffed in the bed resembled, at first glance, a slumbering body, Agnes closed the door behind her and crept on stockinged feet past the slumbering guard.
At supper in the nursery, Agnes had kindly insisted Hannah share in the evening repast with the children and, dispatching the maid to fetch the children’s night clothes from where they warmed in front of the fire, she slipped the sleeping draught into the jug of small ale while the girl’s back was turned. Agnes had allowed the children a few small sips before removing it from them. Enough, she hoped, to render them sleepy without being drugged. She left the jug and cup in the assumption that once she was alone and the children in bed, Hannah would finish it.
Trooper Brown sprawled on his stool, snoring loudly, his legs akimbo and drool running from his open mouth. While she had taken supper with the children, Daniel had conspired to provide the man with a full jug of drugged wine. The empty jug lay on its side, the last of its contents shining wetly on the floor.
Her fellow conspirators waited for her in the sha
dows of the servant’s stairs. She had never seen a more villainous band. The three men wore cloths wound around the lower parts of their faces, hats pulled low down on their brows: Jonathan, the tallest, Kit identifiable by his swagger, which she had discovered disguised a limp, and Daniel by his slighter build and lithe movements. Like her they were in stockinged feet, their boots carried in bags over their shoulders.
They followed her down the silent corridors and up the stairs that led to the nursery.
The door opened with the slightest click and Agnes slipped in first. The only light in the room came from the window, a waning moon, casting cold shadows across the floorboards. The curtains of the children’s bed were pulled tight against the cold night. Hannah slumbered in a pallet at the foot of the bed, and like Brown she snored stentoriously. As Jonathan lit the candle on the table, Agnes flicked back the curtains on the big bed and smiled down at the two children curled up together like dormice in the enormous bed, their slight forms making little impression in the vast space. Both were sound asleep. Reaching out a finger, she stroked Henry’s soft cheek.
Soon, little boy, she promised.
The tapestry rattled on the rod as Daniel drew it aside and Agnes glanced at the slumbering Hannah. The girl snorted and turned onto her side. No sound came from the children and she restored the curtains.
The four conspirators stood looking at the old, worm-ridden panelling. Jonathan held up the candle. Counting from the door, Agnes located the third panel, gratified that its location accorded with the point where Lizzie had indicated the ghost had passed through the wall. Running her fingertips along the seams of the oak panel, she found an unnatural indentation. She pushed on it, heard a slight click, and a section of panel eased away, revealing the stone wall.
She glanced at the men and Kit stepped forward, pushing on a corner of stonework. A whole section of the wall swung inward with hardly a creak, leaving a gap about four feet square. Kit stepped back and let out his breath in an audible sigh and Jonathan gave a curt nod to his companions as he advanced on the opening, crouching down to look into the space beyond. Illuminated by the candle, Agnes could see it was as she had anticipated, a long narrow space, no more than four feet wide, running between the walls. Given the juxtaposition of the two rooms, it was not an anomaly that would be easily detected unless you were looking for it.
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