“Jeffreys said Hobbs had done no more than the duty his Sovereign required of him. He had him thrown out of the Guildhall.”
Helena silently congratulated the dreadful judge on his good sense, though it changed nothing.
They could not go back to Loxsbeare. Maybe they never would.
* * *
“There’s something else,” Samuel said gently. Despite having taken only a few puffs of the clay pipe, he turned it upside down and tapped it against the hearth, dislodging the smoldering contents before he continued speaking. “In May, the city wardens received a letter that laid out Sir Jonathan Wolfe’s involvement in the rebellion.” He paused as a ripple of low groans circled the room. “The letter quoted dates and times of clandestine meetings held at Loxsbeare in the weeks before Monmouth’s landing, naming Grey, Younge, Speke and the others.”
“They knew everything from the beginning?” Helena whispered, horrified.
“Who sent the letter?” Henry clenched both fists on his knees.
Samuel paused before answering. “Lord Miles Blanden.”
Bayle blew out a long breath. Helena gasped.
“That cannot be! He’s Father’s friend.” Henry thumped the arm of his chair with a fist. “It couldn’t have been him!” He gestured toward Helena. “Ellie was going to marry his son.”
Samuel held up his hands. “The letter carries his signature and his seal, Henry. I saw it myself.”
“What did he hope to gain by betraying us?” Hendry’s lower lip quivered.
“Everything,” Samuel replied. “Lord Blanden has petitioned the Court for possession of the house and lands of Loxsbeare.”
Blood roared in Helena’s ears as guilt slammed into her like a blow. If she had welcomed her betrothal to Martyn more willingly, this might not have happened. Lord Blanden would have had the links with the family he craved. Blanden had cast covetous eyes at Loxsbeare for years. His plans had been ruined by Martin’s death. The rising was the opportunity he needed. She glanced at Henry for sympathy, but he sat rigid, staring the empty grate, his mouth working silently.
Distracted by the turmoil inside her head, Helena caught only part of what Bayle was now saying to Samuel.
“…Magistrate came to Loxsbeare this morning. He was angry the Manor has been stripped bare and told Lumm the house was to be made ready for a new owner.”
Henry gave a triumphant snort. “Serves Blanden right, I hope the soldiers pulled it to pieces.”
Helena frowned, thoughtful. That made no sense. Where were her family’s possessions? The two carts that stood beneath tarpaulins in the rear stables were only part of what Loxsbeare held. Is that what Benjamin had been doing, emptying the house of valuables left behind?
Did Lumm discover his stealing and throw him out? Or…were they in league together? The conversation had moved on, and she had missed her chance to ask questions, leaving her frustrated and annoyed.
Bayle withdrew without ceremony, which Helena attributed to his sense of responsibility for Hobbs actions, although he could not have known of the man’s treachery. She resolved to speak to him about it later.
“Enough talk now,” Meghan said, gathering her skirts and ushering her youngest daughter out. “There are chores to be done. You boys go and fetch some firewood.”
Muttering in mild protest, the Ffoyle children filed out of the room. “Are you coming, Helena?” Henry murmured when she lingered by the window.
“No, Henry, please stay.” Samuel laid down the clay pipe. “You both have a decision to make.”
“What kind of decision?” Helena asked warily.
“Whether or not you wish to remain in Ideswell, or leave the city altogether.”
She exchanged a look with her brother, her shock mirrored in his eyes. “Leave Exeter?” they asked together.
“You may both prefer to go somewhere Sir Jonathan Wolfe’s disgrace is not so well-known.”
“You are sending us away?” Helena said, panicked. “Because of Father’s bad judgement? Or because we are now a traitor’s children, whose father abandoned us to chase his precious duke?”
“Helena!” Henry exclaimed, aghast.
Still reeling, she turned on him. “He abandoned us for his religion. How can you support his choice now?”
“Helena,” Samuel’s stern tone sobered her a little. “You were the most important thing in his life. One day you’ll understand.”
“I don’t want to understand.” Her voice rose in anguish “I want him back! I want them both back. Mother and Uncle Edmund are dead; what are Henry and I to do now?” As if speaking her worst fears aloud made them real, her defiance crumbled, and she knuckled hot tears away with a shaking hand. “What did he think would happen to us if Monmouth failed?”
“He never believed the rising would fail,” Henry insisted bitterly.
“I think he did, or why else would he signed certain properties over to me, to be held for you?”
“What properties?” Henry demanded, his practical nature surfacing.
“Apart from the sheep, which have been grazing on Ffoyle land since May,” Samuel began. “There are the houses in Magdalen Road, the warehouse at the Quay, and your mother’s jewels.”
“You have mother’s jewels?” Helena stared at him, incredulous. “We thought - I thought - Father sold them to buy guns for Monmouth.”
“No. They are yours. Yours and Hendry’s, and Aaron’s if…” He let the thought hang in the air.
“Not her sapphire necklace.” Hendry’s eyes turned to flint. “That soldier will have sold it by now.”
Samuel blew air out from between his lips. “No, not that. However, you will both have an income from the wool manufacturing and rents from the houses. There will even be sufficient money for a dowry for Helena.”
“We won’t be rich.” Henry gave an accepting shrug.
“Without the Loxsbeare lands? No.”
Helena swiped her sleeve across her eyes. What Samuel was offering was more than she could have imagined. She smoothed the folds of her skirt with trembling fingers. “Where do you suggest we go?”
Henry turned horrified eyes on her. “You want to leave Exeter? Helena, we were born here. We don’t know anywhere else.”
She lifted her chin. “You heard Master Ffoyle. We have some means. Do you want to see Lord Blanden in residence at Loxsbeare? Lording it over us in our home with our money? Riding in our carriage? Stay, then, because I won’t.”
Henry opened his mouth and then shut it again with a snap.
“Have you considered London?” Samuel said, leaning back in his chair.
Helena’s stomach lurched. London? Would that be possible? “Father had friends in Frome and Winchester, even Taunton, but I’ve not heard of…”
“He had acquaintances in London too, Helena,” Henry said, obviously excited by the prospect. Helena hesitated. She loved Exeter, although she ventured into the city infrequently since coming to Ideswell, and when she did, she kept a shawl handy to hide behind in case she was recognised. The familiar streets felt hostile, as if she had no place there anymore. Why not go to London?
Samuel held up a hand. “Do not decide tonight. I’ll write a few letters to associates of mine. Between us, we may have something to offer you.”
As they took their leave, Samuel’s discreet cough made Helena pause at the door. “Don’t give up on your father just yet.”
“Why? Do you think he’s still alive?” Helena was still bitter.
“I cannot know, but to my mind, the numbers don’t add up.”
Henry stepped back into the room. “What numbers?”
Samuel gave a slow nod, his expressive hands steepled beneath his chin. “At Sedgemoor, Monmouth had roughly four thousand men. Thirteen hundred rebel bodies were collected after the battle. Some eight hundred or so have since been captured and convicted. Say, five hundred deserted, although reports claim that figure is high. That accounts for two thirds. Where are the others?”
Henry stared
at him, his lips moving. “That would mean almost fourteen hundred men are unaccounted for.”
“Exactly, Henry.” Samuel nodded in admiration. “Which suggests more must have escaped Sedgemoor than originally believed. As I said, don’t give up hope on your father yet.”
Outside in the corridor, Henry avoided his sister’s goodnight kiss, and announced he would find Bayle and suggest Samuel’s theory to him. “Samuel could be right, Helena. They could both be alive somewhere.”
Helena nodded, but said nothing. She didn’t want him to hold on to false hopes. If either of them still lived, wouldn’t they have sent word by now?
She watched Henry walk away. His shoulders had broadened and his stride seemed slower, less boyish.
Helena turned in the other direction and emerged into an empty yard bathed in watery sunlight.
Susannah sat on a low wall throwing handfuls of grain to six fat geese, which nudged her and scrabbled at her feet.
Untying the cords of her cap, Helena pulled it free, and lifted her face to the sky and let the wind take her hair, blowing it around her head. She pretended to chase the indignant geese as they flapped and squawked in panic, while Susannah laughed in delight.
Coming to a breathless halt, she turned her gaze to the soft green hills around them beneath a clear sky. For the first time in weeks, she felt her future held hope.
As for finding happiness, she would have to wait and see.
* * *
A week after the assizes, Samuel settled into his customary chair at Molds.
“The whole city must know of Blandness betrayal by now.” Samuel addressed his companion. “I doubt he’ll keep the few friends he has here.”
“He’s taking occupation of Loxsbeare in a few days,” Tobias said from his chair opposite. “And before you ask, I left last night.”
Samuel nodded. “Have all the servants gone?”
“Most of them. I’m staying with my parents at The Ship.”
“You surprise me. I did not imagine inn-keeping was to your taste.”
Tobias ran a finger between his collar and his neck. “My thinking as to what suits me and what doesn’t has changed of late, Master Ffoyle.”
Samuel watched as first anger, and then resignation crossed Tobias” handsome features. “I sought to improve your life, Tobias. Not make you dissatisfied.” Samuel sighed. “For that I apologise.”
“I don’t blame you for Sir Jonathan’s political loyalties.” Tobias lifted his coffee cup, downing half the contents with a grimace.
“Why don’t you order ale if you hate coffee that much?” Samuel smiled.
“I’ve attempted to develop more refined tastes of late.” Tobias sniffed. “It seems they’re somewhat redundant now.”
“Sir Jonathan was proud of you.”
“Not proud enough to ask me to go with him.” Tobias’s eyes flashed fire, hurt twisting his face.
“Had he done so, would you have gone?” Samuel peered at the younger man over the rim of his cup.
“I don’t know.” Tobias folded his arms and stared out of the wide leaded window that looked onto the cathedral. “He entrusted me with his women instead.” He released a harsh laugh. “And I allowed one to run off to Somerset and the other…”
“I am more to blame than you.” Samuel gave a dismissive wave, unwilling to discuss such a raw subject.
“Still, at least he managed to preserve some of his assets for his remaining children. I hear Helena and Henry will be going to London.” Tobias’s voice held no bitterness.
“There are still arrangements to be made, but that is a possibility. Tell me, Tobias, what would you like to do?”
“With my position as steward terminated?” He arched a well-shaped eyebrow. “What I want is not the issue. But I’ll never tolerate Blanden as Master.”
“Your father would applaud your loyalty.”
“My father is most probably dead.” Tobias’s tone held regret. “My foster father, on the other hand, has asked me to take over the Inn.” At Samuel’s surprised look, he went on. “My brothers are too young yet to be of much use.”
“Will you take up his offer?”
Tobias sat back in his chair. “He brought me up. I owe it to him, now that he is no longer healthy enough.”
“He’s ailing?” Samuel was surprised. Jim Lumm had seemed the same as ever when they last met. Some illnesses, he knew, could creep up on a body and drain the lifeblood. He resolved to call on Master Lumm soon.
“Aye. And then there’s Mother.” Tobias cocked a brow to indicate she was yet another problem, but one about whom he had no illusions.
Tobias had always been ambivalent about his step-father, but he adored his mother. Pretty, wanton, fickle Emily of the sensual walk and inviting smile. She had made no secret of the fact that the kindly, if Jim Lumm was not her eldest son’s father.
Samuel reached into his coat, removed a folded parchment and held it out.
“What do you have there?” Tobias looked at it with no more than mild interest.
“Your inheritance.”
Tobias took it, turning it over in his hands before unfolding the document.
“This is the deed to the house by the East Gate. Sir Jonathan’s house.”
“It’s yours now.” Samuel summoned the server to bring more coffee. The boy took his time replenishing their cups, while Tobias fidgeted, eager for him to leave.
The boy finally moved away “How could you give this to me?” Tobias asked. “It should be Hendry’s, or Helena’s.”
“I’m not the one giving it to you. Sir Jonathan is.” He raised his porcelain bowl of coffee and took a slow, appreciative sip. “He came to me before the rising, and asked me to look after his children if anything happened to him. You were included.”
“He had an inkling something might happen?”
Samuel pursed his lips. “I think he had doubts about Lord Grey.” He shook his head as if trying to dislodge the thought. “Sir Jonathan knew if things went wrong, he would lose everything. Thus he put some of his property in my name for his wife and children. He wasn’t to know Lady Elizabeth would live no longer than he did.”
“You think he’s dead then?”
“Helena asked me that. And in truth, how can any of us know?”
“Are you sure he wanted me to have this?” Tobias held up the parchment. “Did he actually say so?”
“Look at that document. He put it in your name before he left. He always meant you to have it.” Samuel dropped his voice as the room began to fill with patrons. “I won’t pretend he ever loved your mother. It was a youthful liaison and she was a-”
Tobias held up a hand. “I know what she was, is, Master Ffoyle. Sir Jonathan could not acknowledge me publicly, but he gave me a good position at Loxsbeare.”
“You don’t feel he showed you a way of life you could never have?”
Tobias studied the decorated ceiling for a moment before replying. “Who knows what I might have had? Had he lived, he might have furthered my career in other ways. Thank you, master Ffoyle. I’m grateful.” Tobias slid the document into his coat, resting his hand on it for a moment. When he spoke again there was no softness in his voice. “About Benjamin Hobbs...”
Samuel tensed, wary. “What about him?”
“I caught him loading a bag with some items of plate left behind. When I challenged him, he said it was his due. Is it true Jeffreys refused to reward him for betraying Sir Jonathan?”
“It is.” Samuel snorted. “Blanden pre-empted him there. Did he know about you?”
“He didn’t taunt me with it, so I am certain he did not. We had an - altercation.” Tobias propped his elbows on the table. “Needless to say he won’t be returning to Exeter. Not in my lifetime.”
Samuel held up a hand. “I would rather not know the details, but thank you for telling me.”
Tobias pulled himself to his feet, looking down on Samuel with a sad smile. “Master Ffoyle, would you do something for
me?”
“Name it.” Samuel smiled.
“Would you wish Helena and Henry happiness in their new life? And tell them that I hope to see them again, one day?” He adjusted his hat, turned and left, his boots echoing on the stairs.
Samuel watched him go, saddened. Tobias Lumm was a fine young man, a son and a brother of whom anyone would be proud.
Chapter 11
Startled, Helena jerked upright into watery sunlight that flooded the bedroom. She was in an unfamiliar wide bed, the covers rumpled and hanging off the mattress. Memory flooded back, and she recalled they had stopped at Kingston the previous night, at an ancient inn. Its upper windows hung precariously over a narrow dirty river that ran beneath a humped bridge.
“That’s the Hogs Mill,” Samuel answered in response to Hendry’s enquiry. It runs into the Thames, while that untidy little bridge is called Clattern.”
She had lain awake half the night listening to the watch who called out every hour, until exhaustion dragged her into a dreamless oblivion.
Gingerly, she eased into a sitting position, wincing at stiff muscles caused by four days of travelling in a carriage over bad roads.
She cast a swift look at the truckle bed in the corner, where Chloe snuffled in her sleep, and smiled, nostalgia dragging her thoughts back to the day they had left Ideswell.
Her most abiding memory of that day was Bayle as he stood beneath the overhanging porch, his hands clasped behind his back and head bent toward Henry. Her brother nodded occasionally in response to whatever wisdom Bayle imparted.
Then with a final, curt bow, Henry turned abruptly away, left the porch and stomped past her into the carriage, his eyes bright with tears.
Bayle followed more slowly, to where the Ffoyle coach stood, the vehicle sporting a new coat of brown paint; its faded leather curtains replaced with stiff, new hide and the Clothmakers’ coat of arms recreated in bright new colours on the doors. Two heavy carts piled high with the possessions Lady Elizabeth had rescued from Loxsbeare Manor were positioned behind the carriage, each with a brace of armed servants aboard for protection.
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