by Louise Clark
“The result may have been good works,” the vicar said forcefully, “but the intention remains wicked.”
“Granted,” said Mistress Wishingham. “But Lady Strathern is right, my husband and I are in Sir Philip’s debt, in a way.”
“Sir Philip?” Alysa repeated sharply. “Are you suggesting that Sir Philip Hampton was the one who reported on us?”
“Who else could it be?” Mistress Thompson said reasonably. “You can’t believe that it was one of us!”
“It could easily be anyone in the vicinity,” Alysa retorted, spots of red flaring in her cheeks at the knowing looks of the ladies.
“I think that Alysa has allowed her emotions to run away with her good sense,” Mistress Wishingham whispered in a conspiratorial undertone to Abigail.
Sparks flashed in Alysa’s eyes and Prudence hastily jumped in before she could speak. “Mistress Thompson, why do you believe the spy is Sir Philip, beyond the fact that he has only recently come to live at Ainslie Manor?”
“His brother is a Roundhead,” the lady said simply.
Abigail shot a quick look at Alysa, then said reasonably, “Many families were torn asunder by conflicting beliefs during the war. What makes you think that Sir Philip, who spent years in exile, would betray other Royalists to the Protectorate?”
“Most likely that was the price he had to pay in order to be allowed to succeed to his property,” Mistress Wishingham said tartly. “Ainslie is a rich estate. Any man would sell his soul to get it.”
“Sir Philip wouldn’t,” Alysa said furiously, rising. It didn’t matter that Philip had betrayed her trust. Or that he was a Roundhead. He was not the spy and she could not bear to stand by and hear him maligned in this way. “Excuse me, Mama. I cannot stay any longer. Mistress Graystone, I will be pleased to help wherever my services are needed. Good day to you and to the Reverend Mr. Graystone.” She left the room, her steps sharp and hurried.
Outside the vicarage, she stopped to take a breath of fresh air. The conversation made her realize that she could not simply cut Philip cold without explanation. She would have to confront him and explain why their relationship must not continue any further. Then they could meet as friends and avoid the tittle-tattle that would surely occur if she were to refuse to speak to him.
She went round the side of the house to the paddock at the back, where her horse was tied. There she was joined by Prudence, whose expression was that of a truant who had just escaped and was free at last.
“Mama said I should join you, so that you would not be riding home alone. I thought that was an excellent idea. I was falling asleep in there.” Her eyes sparkled as a servant tossed her up into the saddle and an irrepressible grin curled her lips. “I think Mama felt I should leave because all of the old tabbies had begun to speculate on your relationship with Sir Philip. It isn’t the kind of conversation she likes me to hear.”
Alysa had to laugh, even though she was feeling rather low now that the righteous anger had left her. “There is no relationship. I hope Mama convinces them of that.”
Prudence shot her a disbelieving look just before she kicked her horse into motion. “Come on. We have the whole afternoon free to do whatever we want. Let’s not waste it here worrying about gossiping old hens.” Without waiting for Alysa, she trotted her horse out of the yard. Alysa shook her head, but there was a smile in her eyes as she followed her sister at a more decorous pace.
She was about to round the side of the building when she heard Prudence call eagerly, “Master Ingram, how good to see you this afternoon.” Alysa emerged onto the street to see Prudence staring crestfallen at the retreating back of Cedric Ingram. He hadn’t bothered to respond to her greeting, let alone stop to chat.
“In truth, there are times when that man has the most appalling manners.” Alysa stared at Ingram’s scarlet-clad back bobbing up and down in a regular motion as his horse trotted down West Easton’s main street. At this moment she could happily have strangled him for his rudeness to her sister.
“Alysa,” Prudence said slowly. “I’m going after him.”
Alysa stared at her, aghast. “Prudence, why?”
Prudence’s eyes were sparkling with curiosity and determination. “Alysa, he was so deep in thought, he didn’t even see me. You know how I have been trying to discover what is dear to his heart so that I can prove to him how much I care. Nothing I have found out so far seems to be of importance. But today—why today he was so serious I think he may just be on his way to whatever or wherever it is that is important to him.” She urged her horse forward. “I must go, surely you can see that.”
Alysa had to kick her mount into a trot to keep up with Prudence. “Sister, I don’t think this is wise.”
Prudence shrugged and shot her a look that said wisdom was not on her mind at the moment.
Alysa tried again. “What if he is on his way to a place where a woman cannot follow?”
“Do you mean a cockfight or a bullbaiting or some entertainment of that sort? At least then I will know where he has gone! Alysa, I cannot allow this opportunity to slip past me!”
“Then I shall come along.”
“No!” Prudence slowed her horse to a walk. Ingram’s form was still visible in the distance, bobbing along at a steady trot. “Alysa, if for any reason he stops and sees me, I will be able to talk to him. But if you are there he will have eyes only for you and he will ignore me. I might lose my chance to show him just how much I care for him.”
Alysa felt gloomier than she had when she emerged from the vicarage, for she believed that nothing Prudence could do would arouse Cedric Ingram’s interest in her. She knew Prudence would never accept this fact, however. Troubled, she gazed at Ingram’s insignificant figure ahead of them. Surely he would not go far. “Very well. Follow the man, but take care, Prudence! A lady alone is fair game. Do not track Master Ingram if he goes too far from town.”
“I won’t,” Prudence promised, smiling fiercely at Alysa.
“I have some shopping to do. Meet me back here in an hour.” Alysa made the words an order, hoping her sister would obey.
“I will, if an hour is enough,” Prudence said irrepressibly, digging her heels into her horse’s side. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling, as she cantered away. “Wish me luck, Alysa!”
Alysa watched her go with some foreboding.
When Prudence did not return in an hour she wasn’t sure what to do. Her shopping had been taken care of and she had no more reason to remain in the village. Reluctantly, she returned home to Strathern Hall.
Chapter 14
As Cedric drew farther and farther away from the village, Prudence began to wonder if she had been a bit precipitous in her decision to follow him. At the same time, her curiosity was running rampant. Was Alysa right? Was Cedric going to a clandestine activity such as a cockfight?
For some reason, the idea of a cockfight being staged in broad daylight seemed unrealistic to Prudence, and since she couldn’t think of any other nefarious event for Cedric to be attending, she continued to follow along behind him at a discrete distance.
When the village was behind him Cedric slowed his horse to a leisurely walk, then, to Prudence’s surprise, plunged into the dense undergrowth that bordered the road. Prudence dug her heels into the flanks of her mount, to hurry the beast to the spot where Cedric had disappeared. She had been traveling far enough behind so that Cedric wouldn’t particularly notice her, unless he happened to deliberately turn in his saddle, but the distance between them now seemed to yawn wider and she was afraid of losing him completely. As she neared the spot where he had entered the trees, she realized that the road forked and that Cedric had turned into a narrow path that led deeper into the thick forest. Undeterred by the atmosphere of peril, Prudence followed the man of her heart into the woods.
Tall trees bordered the path and their branches, high overhead, reduced the daylight to dusk dimness. Thick bushes fringed the rutted roadway and in places the bra
nches were scarred with marks of fresh cutting, while withered fronds lay on the ground, further evidence that the road had recently been widened. None of the twists and turns of this little-used route had been straightened out, however, and there were several times when Prudence thought she had lost Cedric. She kept her spirits up by telling herself that there was nowhere for him to have turned off.
Then she came upon the inn.
The place was old and decrepit. Built in ages past and added on to by successive generations, it was an establishment that had fallen upon hard times since the Civil War had shattered the fabric of English society. Prudence only vaguely knew of its existence, for it had a reputation as a place where men came to do things that a lady, especially a young lady, shouldn’t know about.
Pausing in the shelter of the trees to figure out what she should do next, Prudence told herself that she was mistaken. Cedric Ingram hadn’t come to this dismal place. Somehow she had lost him in the woods. He had gone on to another destination, while she continued blithely along without realizing that she had missed him. Then she noticed that the handsome bay stallion he had been riding was standing in the courtyard of the inn, being held by an ostler, as if Cedric had thrust the reins into the man’s hands as he strode impatiently into the building.
The dismay that filled Prudence as she identified the horse rapidly turned to panic as she saw a man in the bloody-red coat of one of Cromwell’s Ironsides saunter from one of the outbuildings. His pace picked up as he noticed the ostler and changed direction so that they would meet.
Cedric was in danger! Prudence almost galloped her horse into the courtyard in order to create a diversion and warn him that he should depart immediately, before the redcoats found him there. Before she had moved, however, the crisis was over. The soldier said something to the servant, making him laugh; then the two settled into the comfortable lounging positions of people indulging in a good gossip. Evidently, the trooper was known to the ostler and well liked.
Dazedly Prudence watched the scene as she tried to figure out what she should do. Her beloved Cedric was inside the inn, doing who knew what, while outside was one of the dragoons who were terrorizing the area. Although Cedric had done nothing wrong, Prudence remembered another time when he had been out riding and had been accosted by the troopers. That day it had taken him over an hour to talk his way out of danger. Today it might take him as long. Or even worse, he might not be able to convince them that he was not someone who should be arrested.
There was no doubt in Prudence’s mind that Cedric was in danger. He was a confirmed Royalist, one of the very people the dragoons had been harassing ever since they had arrived in the area. Should he be caught in a compromising situation he would be vulnerable to whatever pressures they chose to bring to bear on him. The very idea of Cedric Ingram being hurt by the military made Prudence shudder, but she reassured herself that there was only one soldier at the inn and Cedric would not be overpowered by just one man.
That romantic supposition was blasted to pieces by the arrival of another trooper, who spoke to the first one and jerked his thumb in the direction of the inn, as if giving an order. The first man nodded and strode off, leaving the ostler to tend to Cedric’s horse. The second soldier watched the servant blandly. Clearly he had no intention of indulging in a quiet chat with an underling.
Prudence gnawed at her lower lip. The presence of two dragoons made her wonder if there were more in the area or at the inn. Whatever he was doing, Cedric must be warned of the danger he was in. But how?
The most sensible thing for Prudence to do would be to retreat down the little path and ride as quickly as possible for Strathern Hall, where she knew she could get help. But that would take an hour or more, and by the time she returned the soldiers could have kidnapped Cedric and taken him anywhere. Clearly it was up to her to rescue him.
Prudence had absolutely no idea how she should go about freeing Cedric, but she had the strength of first love on her side and the brave boldness of the Leighton family to draw upon. Slowly, carefully, so as not to alert the occupants of the inn’s yard, she dismounted. Leading her horse deeper into the trees, she tied it securely. She didn’t want the animal to wander into the stable area looking for a mouthful of hay and the company of other horses while she was in the middle of her rescue.
She scurried from the trees to the inn as silently as possible. Having safely crossed the open area without being seen, she pressed up against the side of the building, her body shaking and her heart pounding. Drawing a deep, deliberate breath, she paused to decide what she would do next.
She had no idea where in the building Cedric might be. If he was in one of the rooms on the ground floor she would be able to find him and warn him. She refused to believe that he was upstairs, in one of the bedrooms. She could not accept that the man she had fallen so desperately in love with would waste his time with one of the trollops who frequented this place. Stealthy, she began to creep along the perimeter of the structure, hugging the wooden wall as she tried to keep herself as inconspicuous as possible.
The first window she came upon looked into a large and surprisingly clean kitchen. Several servants and a somewhat better-dressed woman, standing with arms akimbo, were in the room. The woman shouted an order, making the harried servants jump into action. Prudence guessed that this must be the innkeeper’s wife. A comment about too much meat in the stew drifted out into the fresh morning air, confirming the assumption.
Prudence was about to smile when the woman made a remark that froze her where she stood. “The whole lot will be back in an hour and we’re only half done here! Get a move on, or we’ll have twenty-five grumpy men complaining about the lack of food.”
Prudence’s knees buckled and she sank to the ground, her heart beating rapidly. If she interpreted the woman’s words correctly, the whole troop of dragoons were staying at this inn. Moreover, they could return at any time. That meant Cedric was in even deeper peril than she had first imagined. The knowledge spurred her into action once again.
Prudence crawled on her hands and knees, so that she would not be seen passing the window by those inside. She bit off an unladylike curse as a sharp stone dug into her knee and at the same time tore her gown. She gritted her teeth and fortified herself with fantasies of Cedric thanking her extravagantly for saving him from the cruel Protectorate soldiers.
On the other side of the window she straightened again. This time she hurried to the next window without the careful stealth she had initially used. Peeking inside she saw an empty room. Impatiently, she scurried to the window beyond. This one opened onto what appeared to be the private apartment of the innkeeper and his wife, for it was a combination bedroom and sitting room that was none too tidy. Like the previous room it too was empty.
Prudence was beginning to get a little desperate. Heedless of the danger of being seen, she ran to the fourth window. This looked in on a room that apparently was an office, for a crude but sizable desk had been set up so that the person working at it faced the doorway to the room, with the window casting a generous light over his shoulder. Opposite the desk was a chair that was equally old and just as roughly constructed.
In this whitewashed room were two men. As Prudence peeked cautiously in the window, her heart began to beat quickly with excitement.
She did not recognize the man sitting with his back to the window, but on the other side of the desk, lolling indulgently in the high-backed chair, was Cedric Ingram. For a second, Prudence assumed that Cedric had been captured and was now being interrogated. Then his voice drifted out to her, the tone contemptuous.
His words shattered the dreams she had harbored for months. “Your men are fools, Osborne! As soon as they left, the subject of rebuilding the smith’s forge was abandoned.”
Dismayed, Prudence slid down to a crouch as she shook her head helplessly. She did not want to hear what Cedric was saying.
“Lieutenant Weston could not have known that,” a different voice, eviden
tly the man called Osborne, said mildly.
Cedric was not to be put off. “I told you that Thomas Leighton would be there that day, and he was. Leighton could still have been taken into custody whether the discussion at the church was about rebuilding the forge or welcoming the Black Boy back to England. Thomas Leighton is an enemy of the state. Weston didn’t need a reason to arrest him!”
“The lieutenant had to know which of the men there was Leighton. How was he to identify him when Leighton wasn’t sitting in his family’s pew and he was disguised as well?”
“‘Od’s blood! What did Weston expect? That Leighton would stand up and say, ‘How do you do? I’m Thomas Leighton and who might you be?’ Don’t be absurd, Osborne.”
Prudence felt slightly sick. Cedric Ingram was the spy who was selling the secret of her brother’s movements to the government. How could this be? Cedric was the man she had decided she would marry. Cedric had been a friend of her father’s for years.
As unpalatable as the knowledge was, Prudence was a Leighton and she knew her duty. She must return to Strathern to tell her father all she had discovered. He would want to know who the spy plaguing them was.
In her anxiety to be away she jumped to her feet, forgetting to pay attention to the heavy skirts of her riding habit. She stumbled as the tailing hem tangled between her feet, and in her efforts to right herself, she briefly wavered before the open window.
Osborne’s voice said nervously, “What was that? I thought I heard something.”
Then Cedric yelled damningly, “There! A woman running for the trees. Quickly!”
Osborne’s voice merged with Cedric’s as they both shouted, “Guards!”
At that point a chaos of movement broke out as Cedric and Osborne fought to push the casement window completely open and climb out. A half-dozen soldiers appeared around the side of the building, some mounted, some on foot. A horse whinnied as its rider kicked it hard and from within the trees came an answering neigh from Prudence’s horse.