'We will stay here for the night,' Charles decided. 'Do you mind not going to an inn? I would prefer to keep out of sight in case Henry still has his spies looking for us.'
'There is a wood halfway down,' Amy said. 'Look, to your right. We would be sheltered there.'
While Charles and Amy made the usual bed of bracken, Bella sat to one side, still unaware of them in her grief.
Obediently she drank from the skin of wine Meg had provided, and bit into one of the pies. After one mouthful she wrapped it up again in the linen napkin. Then she rolled herself into her cloak and, still wordless, curled up to sleep. She was quite oblivious when Charles lay quietly beside her and when he saw she was shivering, put his own cloak over her for extra warmth.
'Hush, my love. She did not suffer,' Charles said when, in the middle of the night, Bella awoke and began to weep, deep, silent sobs.
Bella wasn't aware of his arms about her, his body warm and strong, close to hers, but she was comforted. She slept again, and it was only as the first streaks of dawn lit the sky that Charles gently drew away from her.
They woke early the following morning and finished their bread and cheese. Soon they could be eating more in Amy's home.
This was a small manor house some miles north of Evesham. Still wary of possible spies, Charles forded the river to the east of the town, and by mid-morning they were riding along the lane which approached the house.
The fields were busy with men, women and children gathering in the hay, and in a nearby orchard, the birds vied with the cherry-pickers for the lush red fruit. But in the stableyard of the manor house, the expected bustle was muted, only one young lad desultory sweeping out an empty stable.
'What is the matter? Where is everyone?' Amy cried out in sudden alarm, and, without waiting for help, dismounted from her horse and ran towards an open door at the back of the house.
'Can the King have taken them?' Bella asked swiftly.
'It is unlikely, or there would be men here,' Charles said reassuringly, but he looked anxious and leaped down from his horse.
Bella found herself dropping into his arms as she slid from her own horse at the same moment he came to lift her down. They heard raised voices from the house, and turned, still embraced, to see Amy emerge, followed by a huge, villainous looking man brandishing a knife almost as large as a sword.
'Amy!' Bella shrieked.
The man dropped his knife and stood, a vacuous smile on his face as he wiped greasy hands down the front of the already dirty smock he wore.
'They be in Lunnon Town,' he said, nodding his head vigorously. 'Took off a week since, they be.'
***
Chapter 8
'London? The Tower?' Bella demanded. 'Did the King's men take them prisoner?'
Amy shook her head.
'No. It's nothing whatever to do with the King. His men have been here and Will – this is Will, he's our cook – says there are still strangers at the inn.'
'Your parents, why are they in London?' Charles asked calmly.
'My sister has been brought to bed with twins, and Mother was so delighted, for they are her first grandchildren, nothing would do for her but to go to London to see Kate.'
'Thank goodness for that.' Bella sighed. 'For a moment I believed the worst.'
'It is difficult. I do not know what to do. It could be dangerous for us both to remain here without any protection, until they return.'
'You certainly may not stay here alone. You must come to London with us, Amy,' Charles said. 'We can escort you to your parents there.'
Bella suppressed a sigh. She knew they dared not remain at Amy's home alone, since it appeared the King's men were still hunting for them. But she did not relish journeying farther in Charles's company. It would be too painful.
Amy and Charles sat on stools by the kitchen table, talking as they spooned up a surprisingly tasty rabbit stew which Will had ladled out on to huge, wooden platters. Bella was deep in her own thoughts.
Taking refuge with Amy's family had appeared the only course open to her, but now they all had to go to London she began to consider other possibilities. Would it be safe for her to stay in London? Surely in such an enormous city she could remain hidden from Henry's vengeful eyes. Yet what could she do there?
She could not live alone. It would hardly be fitting, and she did not wish for it. To adopt the guise of some lowly job, becoming a tavern wench or maidservant to some city magnate, had no attraction. She was too young to hope for a position managing a household for an elderly widower. Yet what else was there?
Amy had suggested she might, with her dowry of jewels, soon find a husband. If that had been possible in the sparsely populated countryside surely it would be even more practicable in the bustling city? She would still need help, however, someone with whom she could live.
Bleakly she accepted this was the only possible future for her. She dared not return to Court; she had rejected her brother and his family, and after Pedro's betrayal could not claim refuge with her Spanish cousins. She could not live alone, and she would never marry the man she loved but who did not love her, so she might as well make the best of a loveless marriage.
Thinking her silence was due to unhappiness at the death of her grandmother, Charles and Amy did not try to include her in their planning. Bella was content to leave it to them, and listlessly nodded when Charles decreed they must set off immediately.
'We cannot remain here even for one night,' he said after listening to Will's account of the strangers staying in the village. 'As soon as Will has packed us some food we must be off.'
They rode southwards for a while, as though heading for Gloucester, but when they were safe in the concealment of a thick belt of woodland they turned east and set off along less frequented ways. On the second day they passed through Banbury, and with no sign of pursuit they relaxed.
Over the next few days Bella recovered her poise. She had plans, of a sort, for her future. The pain of one loss became more bearable, and she firmly suppressed her longing for Charles. She concentrated on the memory of her grandmother's pleasure in seeing her again, and knew she had helped the old lady die peacefully with someone she loved beside her.
She followed silently as Charles directed them to London. For greater safety she and Amy retained their masculine clothes, but as they paused for the last night a few miles north of the city, Amy suggested they changed into gowns.
'My mother would think it a great jest, but my father is more sober. He might be offended.'
'It is safe enough now,' Charles agreed, and on the following morning the girls were once more decorously garbed as they rode the last few miles towards London, wearing their cloaks to shield them from a sudden heavy shower.
'At least you will not be installed here as one of Henry's women,' Amy said cheerfully as they approached the village of Islington.
Bella looked at the large, prosperous houses lining the road and frowned.
'Here?' she queried. 'Surely these are houses belonging to rich merchants?'
Amy pointed to the east.
'The King has hunting lodges hereabouts, and it is reputed he uses one at Newington Green to house his mistresses,' she explained.
Bella shuddered. 'I do not want to be reminded of it,' she exclaimed.
'Shall we stop to eat? It is past noon,' Charles asked, and when the girls agreed he turned aside towards a tavern nestling at the edge of the green.
There were several people sitting outside, enjoying the now warm summer sun and watching the carts and horsemen trundle by on the road, one of the main routes to the North. Charles dismounted and turned to lift Bella down. Then he went to help Amy as an ostler came to take the horses, and Bella looked about her with reviving interest. She stepped aside hurriedly to avoid a cart laden high with barrels, almost collided with another man who was carrying a large basket on his head, and then her foot slipped on the wet, greasy cobbles.
She stumbled, just as two men on horseback appro
ached in a flurry of haste, and for a moment thought she would fall under the flailing hooves.
Before she could recover her balance, hands reached out and caught her round the waist. Unable to draw breath to cry out she found herself hoisted across the neck of one of the horses, and as she sprawled, kicking furiously to free herself, a hand was clamped roughly across her mouth.
'It is too late, dear sister. We have you safe!'
'And before you are released, pretty cousin, you'll be mine!'
As Bella was carried away, Amy, still on her horse, screamed and pointed.
'Charles, they have Bella! Oh, quickly!'
She wrenched the reins from the hands of the startled ostler and kicked her horse into motion. With an oath, Charles threw himself on to his horse again and set off after her. Soon they were galloping side by side along a narrower road to the east of the main one, lower down but still heading northwards.
'It was Thomas, her brother,' Amy gasped.
'Who else? There are just the two of them, I think,' Charles said grimly, as he followed the fleeing figures a short distance ahead.
'I – think it was Pedro,' Amy said slowly. 'Have they been following us all this time?'
'Save your breath for riding,' Charles advised. 'And when we catch up with them keep well out of the way! I cannot follow two abducted girls!'
He said no more, but concentrated on gaining ground. The houses had thinned now, and they were surrounded by lush fields and orchards. It was open country and he had no fear that his quarry might escape him in amongst thick trees. That was one advantage, another that the doubly-laden horse was unable to travel fast.
Thomas and Pedro, however, had fresh mounts. His own had been ridden hard for several days, and was weary. He had to catch them quickly before the beast foundered.
As he rode, he was struggling to undo the fastenings holding the saddlebags in place, and with a grunt of satisfaction felt them loosen. He cast them aside and perceptibly his horse's stride lengthened.
He was slowly overtaking Bella and her captors.
Bella, too, was helping, he noted with satisfaction. With no time to secure her properly, or even to haul her into a more convenient position in front of him, Thomas was having difficulty managing the horse.
His burden was both unusually heavy and unbalanced. The creature was not responding even to the vicious spurs Thomas used unmercifully. Uncomfortable, confused by the commands to stop which Bella was shouting almost in his ear, and her tugs on his mane, the horse suddenly reared.
Thomas, struggling to remain in the saddle, let go his hold on Bella, who completed the horse's demoralisation by using both feet and hands to push herself away from him. As she fell to the ground in a tangle of petticoats, the horse bolted.
Thomas, half unseated and clinging in an undignified manner to the pommel, was swept past Pedro as the latter turned to find Charles beside him.
'Bella! Are you hurt?' Amy, some way behind Charles, flung herself out of the saddle and ran to her friend. Bella was sitting up, rubbing her elbow.
'I shall have a few bruises,' she said ruefully. 'Thank goodness that storm softened the ground. Charles!' she added in alarm, as she sat up and saw the two remaining men circling a few feet away, swords drawn.
She struggled to her feet and would have rushed towards them, but saw in time that this might distract Charles. Drawing back with Amy into the shelter of a large oak tree, they stood and watched.
Charles had the advantage of knowing his horse, a beast he had ridden for many weeks, and despite the unusual manoeuvrings being asked of him, the animal was responding obediently.
Pedro's mount was clearly a hired hack, and just as clearly afraid and resentful of the whistling swords singing past his head. He danced away, giving neither man an opportunity of closing with his opponent. Charles pressed closer, and then suddenly, with a slashing cut, severed one of the reins close to the bridle.
Now Pedro's horse was totally out of control, and the sudden tug on the rein unnerved him completely. He whirled aside, and set off after his companion, leaving Pedro struggling to his feet a few yards away from Charles.
To Bella's dismay she saw Charles discarding the advantage of being mounted, and leaping to the ground. The fool! She clenched her fists and wondered wildly why men had to pay such attention to notions of honour. If she'd had such an advantage over an enemy she'd never have given it up.
Pedro, grasping his sword firmly, and with a short but lethal-looking dagger in his left hand, advanced. As Charles awaited him, unmoving, a look of confidence spread across Pedro's face.
'The girl is nothing to you. Why do you not leave her with her family?' he taunted.
Charles disdained to reply, apart from lowering the point of his rapier so that it was directed at Pedro's heart.
Unable to provoke Charles into a verbal response, Pedro suddenly sidestepped and then lunged forward. Charles was ready for him and with his own dagger parried the stroke, while lunging forward in his turn.
They were evenly matched, though Pedro favoured the older methods of slashing cuts while Charles adopted a quieter, though notably effective technique of short, swift movements which were so fast his opponent often only saw them belatedly.
Amy, her gaze fixed unwaveringly on the combatants, moved gradually closer, unaware of what she was doing. No one noticed the huge black cloud which was rapidly approaching until a sudden roll of thunder made Charles's horse snort in fright.
Startled, Bella looked round. With an irrational surge of triumph and confidence that Charles would be the victor, she suddenly realised that if Charles's horse took fright at the thunder and bolted they would be stranded with one horse amongst them. She moved slowly towards it, and grasped the bridle.
Standing beside the trembling horse, stroking his nose and murmuring gently to calm him, Bella sensed Pedro was tiring. His lunges became wilder, and once he missed his footing and but for an agile recovery would have been at Charles's mercy.
Charles intensified his attack, his own sword strokes coming with increasing rapidity, and suddenly an unexpected twist of his blade when Pedro parried it with his dagger sent the dagger flying out of Pedro's hand.
Now Pedro was at a disadvantage, but, leaping backwards out of harm's way, he dragged a second short, slender dagger from a sheath at his belt. It was too fragile to use for parrying the heavy sword, but this was not Pedro's intention. Moving backwards to gain space and time, he suddenly flung the small dagger directly at Charles.
Bella bit back a gasp of dismay, but to her relief Charles anticipated the move. He ducked sideways and then flung himself on Pedro, a fierce assault that bore the other man backwards for several paces.
Then Pedro simply stopped fighting. As he dropped his sword to the ground and stood looking past Charles, Bella realised something odd was happening. Before she could move, Pedro, ignoring Charles's threatening blade, leaped forward and Charles just had time to swing his weapon sideways to avoid impaling Pedro on it.
'Amy!'
Bella swung round. She had forgotten her friend, hidden from her by the horse she was holding. Now she saw Pedro kneeling on the ground, Amy in his arms, and blood pouring down from a wound in her arm where the dagger had stabbed her.
'Quick, something to staunch the blood!' Pedro ordered, and Bella frantically fumbled with her petticoat to tear off a strip.
'She has swooned. It is no more serious,' Charles said calmly, as he went to Amy's head and supported her while Pedro tied the bandage in place.
'My God, Amy, I might have killed you! I did not see you there! What are you doing here? Just a short distance to the side and I would have killed you! Amy, forgive me!' Pedro muttered frantically to himself.
'We passed a small inn a short way back. Let us get her there,' Charles suggested practically.
Pedro glanced up at him, gradual recollection of the fight returning. He nodded, but did not speak.
'My horse is the stronger beast. Hand her
up to me,' Charles directed as Bella went to retrieve the two remaining horses.
Pedro seemed to come back to life.
'No! I must carry her. Is that her horse?' he demanded of Bella.
'It is not big enough to carry a double load,' Charles objected.
'It will have to! It is not far, and I am not permitting anyone else to carry her! Besides, you'll have to take Bella,' he added.
'As you wish. We must get her indoors as soon as possible, as there's another storm brewing,' Charles pointed out. Without a further word, Pedro mounted Amy's horse and when Charles lifted her up cradled the unconscious girl tenderly against his breast.
'A cloak,' he demanded imperiously. Charles silently unstrapped the cloak Amy had been carrying behind the saddle and handed it to Pedro. He draped it carefully to protect Amy from the heavy spots of rain which had begun to fall, and without a word, set off back the way they had come.
Charles lifted Bella on to his own horse and climbed into the saddle.
'Intriguing,' he murmured as he moved off after the others. 'What do you suppose all that meant?'
'Amy told me she loved someone who couldn't, or wouldn't, marry her,' Bella said slowly. 'She would never reveal who it was, and I had no idea from her behaviour. If it was Pedro, it explains why she could not confide in me.'
'Because before he decided it would be advantageous to match you with the King he wanted you himself?' Charles surmised. 'I very much fear, my love, that his affections tend towards Amy! Are you mortified?'
'I am sure I never loved him anyway,' Bella said carelessly. 'It must have been Amy that night, in the garden,' she went on thoughtfully.
'What night?'
'It was the same day you saw me in the park, when I fell,' she said slowly, sorting out her recollections. 'That evening I met an old friend, Sir John Talbot.'
'I saw you with him later,' Charles remarked.
'As we went out into the garden, we met Pedro coming in,' Bella went on, 'and in the garden we saw a girl crying. She ran away when we approached, but she was wearing a pale dress. When I got back to my room Amy had thrown a pale pink gown on the floor, and was in bed. The following day she was ill, and made some bitter remarks about men.'
Royal Courtship Page 8