Just inside the entrance, piled in a tidy heap, were the four leather satchels she had seen on the night James’s men had brought them to Charvaley.
Daniel bent toward Agnes, and placing his mouth close to her ear, he whispered, ‘Stay by the door and keep watch.’
She nodded and took up a position beside the door, leaving it open a little way to get a view of the corridor. The house slumbered in peace.
Daniel, with his slighter build, disappeared into the opening and handed out the four heavy, leather satchels.
Kit pushed the hiding place shut. Well-oiled, it slid back into place with barely a click, and he had his hand on the tapestry preparatory to pulling it back into place when a sharp cry of anguish came from the children’s bed.
They all froze in place, the three men turning to Agnes.
Henry. One of his nightmares.
As Hannah stirred on her bed, Agnes cast a frantic glance at Daniel.
‘See to the child,’ he whispered and jerked his head at the others. ‘We must away.’
Agnes pulled the tapestry across the wall and hurried across to the children’s bed. She slipped behind the curtains, and taking the whimpering child in her arms, she rocked and hushed him, her heart hammering beneath her bodice.
‘Please, be quiet,’ she whispered to the little boy.
‘Agnes!’ Although Henry was still half asleep, her name seemed to echo around the quiet room. Every nerve in Agnes’s body jangled.
‘Don’t go away again,’ the boy murmured, sleep beginning to claim him once more.
She held him closer, her heart breaking as he stilled, and once more he slept. Just a few more minutes, she told herself, before she needed to return to her room. Just a few more minutes to hold her son. She closed her eyes and laid her cheek against his soft curls.
***
In the corridor outside the nursery, the moonlight streaming in through the windows cast fractured lights across the bare boards, which creaked ominously as the men hurried across them. They had almost reached the turn that led into the main gallery when they heard the unmistakable sound of heavy feet coming toward them.
Beside Daniel, Kit swore under his breath. ‘Merde.’
With a sharp gesture of his hand, Jonathan indicated for them to scatter and melt as much as possible into the shadowed recesses of doorways and corners.
As the interloper rounded the corridor his footsteps became stealthier, the floorboards protesting as if someone were trying unsuccessfully to tiptoe along the corridor. Daniel tried the handle of the nearest door but found it locked. Squeezed into the shadowed doorway, Daniel held his breath as he recognised the man as one of Turner’s men – Simpson. What would Simpson be doing here at this hour, and acting in such a furtive manner?
The answer came when the man rapped softly, his ear to the nursery door. ‘Hannah? Remember your promise … ’
When no one within the room stirred, Simpson knocked again. Daniel thought about Agnes, trapped in that room, and bit back a groan.
He carried no weapon except his knife and he cast about the gloomy gallery for something – anything – he could use to incapacitate the man.
‘Hannah! I’m coming in … ’ Simpson said in a syrupy tone.
To Daniel’s dismay the door opened and the nursery maid, barefoot in her chemise, her hair sticking out wildly, lurched into view.
‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded, her voice slurred with sleep and the drug.
The man chucked her under her chin. ‘We had an arrangement, remember?’
The girl softened, her arms circling the man’s neck. ‘Oh yes … the brats are asleep, come inside.’
Concealed behind a tapestry, Kit must have shifted his weight. A floorboard creaked, sounding like a musket shot in the silent corridor.
‘Wha’s that?’ Hannah said, removing her arms from around her paramour’s neck.
Simpson whirled around. ‘Who’s there?’ he demanded in a voice that would have woken the dead. ‘Someone’s there – come out and face me.’
Daniel’s mind whirled. How could something so simple go so terribly wrong? Now was not the time for personal sentiment. The priority was getting the gold away. His life, and Agnes’s, had to be something he worried about later.
Daniel broke cover, his knife concealed in the palm of his hand, and stood between Simpson and the others. Behind him he heard Kit and Jonathan’s footsteps breaking into a run as they disappeared into the gloom of the gallery.
‘Help here!’ Simpson yelled. ‘Intruders!’
Daniel held his ground and Simpson lunged toward him, taking him to be unarmed. Like Trooper Brown, Simpson seemed to have been recruited for his size. Daniel could never hope to best him in any form of unarmed combat – all he could do was hope to slow the man down.
Simpson uttered a bellow and rushed at him. Daniel neatly sidestepped, plunging the knife low into the man’s leg. Simpson stopped in his tracks, looked down at the hilt of the knife as Daniel wrested it free, and dropped to his knees with a gurgle.
Daniel hesitated, torn between getting past the screaming maid and extricating Agnes and making good his own escape. If he stopped to rescue Agnes, they would both be taken. He would be more use to her free.
‘Sorry, Agnes,’ he said in his thoughts and pausing only to collect the satchels he had set down, he turned and ran.
***
At the first knock on the door, Agnes froze. She laid Henry back in his place and peered through the curtains at the end of the bed where she could see the maid.
Hannah muttered and groaned and turned restlessly on her pallet. Agnes willed her back into slumber but when the second knock came, more insistent than the first, Hannah awoke, pushing her hair from her eyes and stumbling from her bed toward the door.
Agnes’s breath caught in her throat. She was safe enough for the moment but if the noise woke the children or… God forbid, the alarm was raised … Without a second thought she slipped off the bed on the far side, out of sight of the door, and slid under the bed, just as Lizzie had done when she had played hide and seek.
She inched her way toward the head of the bed where it stood against the wall and flattened herself to the floor. Closing her eyes, she struggled to control her breathing, both from fear and the dust that rose from the unswept boards. From beyond the doorway she heard Simpson’s upraised voice and the clatter of his boots on the floorboards. A moment of silence followed and Hannah began to scream.
Agnes inched her way to the edge of the bed, from where she had a good view along the corridor. Simpson lay sprawled on his back, his head in Hannah’s lap. The maid’s screams alternated with choking sobs. They’ve killed him, Agnes thought. Any one of the three men would be capable of such an act without thought or compunction. They had all killed before. Simpson’s booted foot twitched and Agnes let out a sigh of relief. She did not want murder added to their list of crimes.
She could see no sign of Daniel, Kit, or Jonathan and she prayed they had got away.
The corridor filled with servants and soldiers, including Septimus Turner, hurriedly pulling on his jacket and his sister, in her nightgown with a loose coat pulled over it. Turner pulled the sobbing maid to her feet and, holding her by her forearms, appeared to be cross-examining her. All he succeeded in doing was increasing her distress. She pointed down the corridor, away from the nursery.
Turner whirled on his heel, gathering those soldiers who had answered the maid’s cries. They set off at a run along the gallery and out of sight. Agnes balled her fist against her mouth. All she could do was pray that they had got away.
In the corridor all the attention turned to the wounded man who writhed on the floor, clutching his leg. No one was looking at the nursery door. Agnes wriggled out from under the bed and sidled out of the room, keeping to the shadows. As she reached the gaggle of servants clustered around Simpson, she elbowed her way into the group as if she too had been forced from her bed by the uproar.
&nb
sp; ‘What’s happened here?’ she demanded in an imperious tone.
Everyone turned to look at her. ‘Intruders, ma’am,’ one of the servants answered.
‘Take this man to a bedchamber and tend to his wounds,’ Agnes said and turned on Leah. ‘Has anyone checked the children?’
Leah stared at her. ‘The children?’
‘Your responsibility, as you are so quick to remind me.’ Agnes turned and ran back to the nursery, pulling back the bed curtains to reveal the two children still slumbering peacefully, despite the rumpus outside their room.
Agnes gave Leah a sharp, reproachful glance. ‘That stupid girl is in no fit state to stay with the children,’ she said. ‘I will … ’
‘Return to your room, Mistress Fletcher. I will see the children are not left alone,’ Leah responded.
Agnes bent and kissed Henry’s curls. Better to be seen to be acquiescent.
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘They should be properly guarded, not left in the hands of that incompetent wench.’ She pointed at Hannah. ‘You might like to ask her what that man was doing in this part of the house at this time of the night.’
Leah straightened. ‘His duty,’ she replied, but her tone wavered with uncertainty and she cast the still-dopey Hannah a malevolent glare.
Brown still slumbered outside Agnes’s door, and she gave him no more than a cursory glance before slipping back into her room and climbing into the cold bed. She pulled the covers up to her chin, forcing her breathing to steady as she shook from head to toe with cold and nerves.
What now?
She had no choice but to carry on the pretence. Turner would have every one of his men on the hunt for the intruders. Had Daniel gone with them? How would she explain that to Ashby?
Sleep was impossible and as she tossed in the uncomfortable bed, she told herself that all she had to do was show Ashby the empty room tomorrow morning and then she could leave. She repeated the instructions over to herself.
In a few hours she would be back on the road to Seven Ways, but she just had to accept that it would be without the children. Her head had prevailed and she acknowledged Jonathan had been right – better to wait until the King’s return and see what could be done. If the King had his gold then he should feel well disposed toward her petition. The thought heartened her.
She closed her eyes to hold back the tears, recalling the warm little body pressed against her, the silken feel of Henry’s soft hair beneath her fingers.
A gulping sob racked her body and she rolled over on to her side, drawing her knees up, trying to warm her frozen feet.
***
The maid’s screams still rang in Daniel’s ears as he bolted after his brother and Jonathan. The alarm had not reached the kitchens and they paused long enough to pull on their boots. From the main courtyard they could hear voices, orders being shouted.
Balancing caution with haste they crept through the kitchen gardens to the wooded area where they had left their horses.
Kit handed the two satchels he carried to Jonathan. ‘You take them.’
‘Why? Wouldn’t it be better … ’
Kit shook his head. ‘If we encounter trouble I can divert them – you keep going.’
Daniel could see the hesitation in Jonathan’s body before he gave a curt nod. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘Daniel, are you coming with us?’
Daniel shook his head. ‘I’ll go back before I am missed. I have to be certain that Agnes is safe. If I’m missing, suspicion will fall on her immediately. God speed, gentlemen.’
Kit turned to him and gathered him in a brotherly embrace, clapping him on the back. ‘Keep safe, Dan, and the girl too.’
‘We’ll be with you at Seven Ways in a few days,’ Daniel said. God willing, he thought.
‘Lovell!’ Thornton sounded exasperated. ‘We’ve got to get going.’
Daniel waited long enough to see the two horses spurred into a canter heading toward the track, described by Agnes, which skirted the village.
As he turned and hurried back, lights appeared all over the house and he could see through the window of the kitchen that the servants had gathered in various stages of night attire. Cursing, he found another entry unlocked and slipped into the darkened buttery. He paused to divest himself of his boots and the cloth he had wound around his face, stowing them with his jacket in a dark corner. He pulled his shirt from his breeches and padded in stockinged feet into the kitchen, running his hand through his hair as if he had just been awoken.
‘What’s the commotion?’ he asked the steward.
‘Intruders,’ the man replied. ‘One of the Colonel’s men has been badly wounded.’
‘Did they get away?’
The man shrugged. ‘Turner’s sent all his men out into the night. They’ll hunt ‘em down soon enough.’
‘What did they want?’ one of the maids asked in a tremulous voice.
‘Who knows? They were in the nursery wing when Simpson came across ‘em,’ another replied.
One woman subsided on to a chair, her hand on her chest. ‘Evil men, come to take the children. Are they safe?’
Another woman placed a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. ‘Sleepin’ peacefully,’ she said. ‘Never even stirred.’
‘What was this Simpson doing in the nursery wing?’ Daniel asked.
They all turned to look at him.
‘Well may you ask,’ one of the women said. ‘After that little tramp Hannah Bell, I’d wager.’
‘Where were you?’ The steward narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Daniel.
‘Me?’
‘Aye – your bed is there.’ The steward pointed to the bedroll in the corner of the kitchen that had been allocated to Daniel. ‘That’s not been slept in.’
Daniel looked down at his stockinged toes. His feet felt like two blocks of ice. ‘I was with a girl.’ He jerked his head at the bedroll. ‘Not much privacy there.’
‘A girl?’ The man bristled. ‘I’ll not have that sort of behaviour in this house. Who was she?’
‘It’d not be seemly if I told you that,’ Daniel replied.
‘It was me.’
Daniel caught his breath as Sarah Truscott stepped up beside him, slipping her hand around his arm in a proprietary fashion.
‘We weren’t doing nothin’ except a little cuddling and sweet talk. He’s a fine tongue, this one.’ She gave him the benefit of a coquettish smile.
The steward straightened, indignation bristling from every pore. ‘That’s it, my girl. Ye’re out on your ear.’
‘Oh, I don’t think so. Ye need me and ye know it. ‘andsome here’ll be gone and there’s none here that takes my fancy.’ She looked around the household staff.
The steward’s mouth opened and closed like the frog he so closely resembled.
Daniel slipped an arm around Sarah’s shoulders. ‘My mistress’ll be gone today and me with her. Rail at me all you like but don’t punish the girl for her pretty face. Now, I’ve a mind for a bit o’ sleep before Her Ladyship upstairs starts issuing orders.’
The steward glared at him ‘All of you, back to bed. It still lacks an hour or so until we have to be abroad. God knows we get little enough time in our beds.’ He clapped his hands to emphasise his order and the servants dispersed. ‘And you,’ he said to Sarah, who cast a wink in Daniel’s direction before following the rest of the servants out of the kitchen.
‘As for you, my lad,’ the steward wagged a finger at Daniel. ‘I’ll thank you to keep your hands to yourself in future. Or … else … ’
With that impotent threat, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the kitchen. Daniel settled into his rough bed and lay awake waiting for the snores of the kitchen boy. When he was satisfied the lad was asleep, he rose and retrieved his boots and jacket, consigning the mask to the fire.
What a damnable mess, he thought as he crouched by the fire, watching the fabric take light. Jonathan and Kit were out in the cold night being pursued through the dark by Turn
er’s men and Agnes … what had happened to Agnes?
He hated himself for abandoning her. He imagined her trapped in the nursery as Turner and his men burst in. He had blithely suggested the worst that could befall her would be eviction, but he knew Ashby and Turner were capable of much worse.
He ran a hand through his hair and glanced across at the servants’ stairs. He had to know that she was all right.
The moon had started to set as he found his way through the maze of corridors and stairs to Agnes’s chamber. Someone – Agnes? – had provided Brown with a blanket, and as he passed the soldier stirred and swallowed a few times before settling back into a doze. The man would be stiff and cold when he woke.
Daniel tried the door and found it unlocked. It creaked as he opened it. He glanced at Brown but the man didn’t move.
‘Who’s there?’ Agnes’s voice came from the gloom of the bed.
‘Daniel,’ he responded.
She was in his arms as soon as he closed the door behind him.
‘I was so scared they had caught you,’ she mumbled into his jacket. He thought he heard her add, ‘I’d die if anything happened to you.’
He tightened his arms around her. ‘We all got away. They don’t know I am involved.’
She relaxed in his grip for a moment and he brushed the top of her head with his lips. Her hair smelled of rosemary.
If she noticed the gesture, she gave no sign. Straightening and pushing herself away from him, she looked up into his face.
‘Are we leaving? Have you come to fetch me? I can be ready in no time.’
He let his hands fall and shook his head. ‘We can’t go anywhere. Every one of Turner’s men, except the man I wounded and that lazy sod out there, are out there on the lookout for the intruders. We would get no further than the stables and we may as well sign our own confessions. We have no choice but to complete the charade we set ourselves.’
Her eyes widened and she wrapped her arms around herself. ‘I’m not sure I have the strength,’ she said.
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