Fallam's Secret

by Denise Giardina

  “Nothing you can do now,” she said. “He’s gone. When I challenged him, he claimed he had come to bring you this.” She held out the book. “He wrote it himself and claims it has just come from the printer. He especially wanted you to have a copy, and made it clear he thinks you are in need of the book’s message.”

  Noah studied the title page, then tossed the book aside. “Indeed he is the wizened sort of man who would give himself up to such an enterprise. He has the soul of a prune.”

  “I’m worried. He obviously suspects something. And you should have seen his face when he spoke of you. I believe he hates you. He pretended he didn’t know you were ill, but Nan has put it out all over Norchester. How could he not know?”

  “People know I am ill?”

  “I’m certain of it. The servants will all have talked of it.”

  His face was so pale she thought he might faint. Then he said, “Where is Simon?”

  “He went to the quay to see what ships have come in. I think he still had hopes of your lost cargo.”

  “Go after him. Tell him to come here at once.”

  “Noah, what is it? You’re frightening me.”

  “Just do as I say. Then get you off to Soane’s Croft for your chores there.”

  She stood. “And you won’t tell me what is going on?”

  “No.”

  “But you’ll tell Simon.”

  “Simon is my trusted lieutenant.”

  “And I am not to be trusted. You continue to treat me like a child, keeping things from me and ordering me about.”

  “And you continue to act like a child.”

  She went out, slamming the door behind her.

  Noah lay still a moment, a sick feeling in his stomach that had nothing to do with his fever, then stood up on still-wobbly legs and began to search for his clothes. When Simon returned, he found Noah dressed and sitting at his office desk, searching through the drawers.

  “You shouldn’t be here in the cold,” Simon said. “There’s no fire.”

  “Jacob Woodcock was here.”

  “I know. Lydde told me. Has anything been disturbed?”

  “I don’t know. Lydde may have discovered him soon after he arrived.”

  Simon knelt by the hearth and made a pile of kindling. “Lydde’s angry.”

  “Is she?” Noah said curtly.

  “Or perhaps I should say she’s hurt. She feels you are keeping things from her.”

  Noah continued to sort through piles of parchment. “I have more serious matters to tend to just now than Lydde’s need to prove herself my equal.”

  Simon didn’t answer and set about lighting the kindling, sensing from Noah’s mood that anything he said would only make matters worse.

  “One thing is certain,” Noah continued. “We have, the three of us, been equals in our foolishness. Did you go to the meeting last night?”

  “I did. And we came up with an idea for bringing in more revenue. I was just waiting for you to wake up to share it with you.”

  “Do you not understand?” Noah said. “The Raven was absent from last night’s meeting and now it is talked all over Norchester by the servants that Pastor Fallam is ill. It would be a stupid man among my captains not to connect the two.”

  “Oh.” Simon considered this. “I had not realized your illness had been talked about.”

  “No.” Noah slammed the drawer shut and looked at him. “You did not, nor did I.”

  “You think we are in danger?”

  “I do. My God, what was I thinking?”

  “You were ill,” Simon said.

  “Yes, but I should have realized, I should have called off the meeting.”

  “That would have been noticed as well, wouldn’t it?”

  “We should have hid my illness from the servants.”

  “The captains, surely,” Simon said, “will be loyal.”

  “There is the bounty,” Noah pointed out. “And men gossip as well as women.”

  The kindling had refused to catch fire. The two men sat and watched their breath turn to fog in the cold.

  Simon spoke first. “No one could carry this off indefinitely. We knew it would come to this.”

  “We did.”

  “Then it is time to go.”

  Noah nodded. “If it is not already too late. I want you to leave at once for Southampton. Go to our friend there and explain how things stand, see if he can send a ship as soon as possible.”

  Simon nodded. “Is the shingle below the abbey still the safest place to meet?”

  “I think so. But first we must come up with a reason to explain your sudden disappearance.”

  “There is a very good reason, and one that everyone, even Jacob Woodcock, will find plausible. I plan to run away and elope with Mary Soane against her family’s wishes.”

  Noah smiled bleakly. “Yes. Yes, that will work. And it will get her on board ship so the two of you, at least, will be saved. But we must speak to John about it. And about more than Mary, for Lydde will have her own decision to make.”

  Simon was surprised. “Do you doubt what it will be?”

  Noah looked away. “Yes,” he said.

  Chapter 19

  Decisions

  LYDDE TRUDGED THROUGH the cold past East Gate to Mossup’s stable. He was surprised to see her.

  “You’re early, lad,” he said. Then he noted the misery that showed plain upon her face. “What ails ye?”

  “Nothing I can talk about,” she said.

  “Ah. I can guess the way of it.” He winked. “You’ve taken a fancy to someone and it’s not going as it should.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Well. I’ve some news to cheer you a bit. We’ve an engagement.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come here, sit you down.” He pulled a pair of stools to the edge of an empty stall. “Not a regular play, but still a chance to perform. At last.” He leaned close so as not to be overheard. “There’s to be a party at Lord Radford’s estate. A Christmas party.”

  “Isn’t that forbidden?”

  “It is. And don’t you dare breathe a word of it to that Noah Fallam what took you in, or there’ll be trouble. You’ll not give us away, will you?”

  “Of course not!” Lydde said indignantly. “I’ve nothing much to say to Noah Fallam just now anyway.”

  “Well, then, a Christmas party, as I say. The gentry and their wives from all over the district will be at Rosewood. And they want a mumming.”

  “A mumming?” She vaguely remembered holiday mummings from her other life in England as corny affairs, the sort of thing the local civic club endured after a mediocre meal of roast chicken with potatoes and peas at the town’s only hotel. She had avoided mummings like the plague.

  “Oh, lad! You’re so young and we have been under the thumb of these Puritans so long you’ve never seen a mumming? ’Tis great fun! The mummers—that’s us—wear costumes with masks and we act a play. We may dance a morris dance as well. And when it is over we pretend to rob the audience, and in so doing we collect a bit of remuneration for ourselves. It’s a great silliness. And we might even work in a scene from The Tempest.”

  It would be wonderful, Lydde thought, to perform again. Though she could imagine Noah’s reaction when she told him. Perhaps she wouldn’t tell. Why should she ask his permission like a teenager asking her father if she could go to the mall? If he wouldn’t tell her what was going on, she decided, she was under no obligation to share her activities with him.

  “I’m riding to Little Gallops to tell Guill and Sharpe. Will you go in with us?”

  She thought about the chores at Soane’s Croft. But with winter set in there was little to do outside and she decided Mary and Mother Bunch could handle the inside work for one day.

  “I will,” she said.

  AT Soane’s Croft, Noah and Simon sat with Uncle John in the study.

  “I thought she’d be here,” Noah said.

  “Have
n’t seen her,” Uncle John said. “I thought she must still be at your place.”

  “Noah sent her to fetch me,” Simon said, “and then she headed toward the river. I don’t know where she was going.” He glanced at Noah and fell silent.

  “We should look for her,” said Uncle John. “Wouldn’t it be best if you all leave with Simon and Mary?”

  Noah shook his head. “No, I can divert a search for these two, but if it is known I have fled, I fear we would all be looked for and apprehended on the road. Besides, one thing remains here for me to do.”

  “Where Mary is concerned, I would like to have Lydde’s support,” Uncle John said, “but she isn’t here, so that’s that. I’ll make the decision myself.” He turned to Simon. “If there were no danger, no need to flee, what would have been your intentions toward Mary?”

  “I love her,” Simon said. “She is young for marriage, I do know that. I would have asked for her hand in a year or two. But we do not have the luxury of waiting. I must flee to America, and if she does not go with me it will be all over for us. She has no dowry and no other prospects here. She will be better off as my wife. I will take care of her, and I promise you I will take heed of her age. I will be in all things gentle.”

  “I vouch for Simon,” Noah added. “He will care for her above himself. She could do no better for a husband.”

  Uncle John looked from one to the other and nodded. “I agree,” he said. “And if the situation here is unraveling, as you say, then I myself will be gone soon as well and unable to protect her. There’s no better place for Mary than with Simon.”

  “And,” Noah said, “if she leaves with him today, she will be well out of the danger here.”

  “Unlike Lydde,” said Uncle John.

  Noah gave him such a look of despair that Uncle John had to fight back the impulse to put a consoling arm around the younger man’s shoulder.

  “I think,” Noah said, “Lydde will want to leave too.”

  NOAH had brought with him most of the gold he had kept in a strongbox at the Bishop’s Palace, which he now handed over to Simon.

  “I’ve kept a bit for the servants,” he said, “to ease them until they find other positions. Here is the rest. If I don’t make it, you can use it to buy some land. Robert writes that land in Virginia is more dear than you might think.”

  “I’ll give you most of what is left from John Soane as well,” Uncle John said. “I’ve no more use for it, except to settle a nice amount on Mother Bunch.”

  “Where will she go?” Noah asked.

  “I’ve spoken to the Reverend Smythe. He will see she arrives safe at her sister’s cottage in Bradway, and the amount I am sending with her will keep them both.”

  Mary was ecstatic to learn Simon had asked for, and been given, her hand in marriage. Nor was she daunted at the prospect of a sudden departure followed by a voyage across the ocean. The optimism and energy of youth, Uncle John thought. While Mary went off to pack her few belongings, he gathered up those items most helpful for the voyage and placed them in an oilskin pouch. In went his supply of antibiotics, the aspirin and Vitamin C tablets, the thermometer, the books on health and first aid. After a moment’s thought he added the boxes of birth control pills, most of them left behind by Lydde for safekeeping. On a piece of parchment he wrote down instructions for each item, then explained them to Noah and Simon, cautioning them the bag must be kept dry.

  When he showed them the birth control pills, Noah said, “Lydde has been taking these?”

  “Yes,” Uncle John said.

  “She didn’t tell me.”

  “You two don’t seem to be talking much.”

  Noah turned away and walked to the window, staring out as though he could actually see through the milky glass pane.

  “Where is she?” he said.

  JACOB Woodcock sat at his kitchen table composing another letter for Bristol.

  I have taken to frequenting taverns, an occupation noted by my neighbors with much gossip, for they have known me as one who shuns the Devil’s spirits. Yet for the sake of God’s work I imbibe a small amount as I listen to those whose tongues have been loosened. And I have at last learnt something of worth at a hostelry in Little Gallops. Two rustics in their cups were gossiping about the Raven. One of them, it seems, has a brother in the gang. And the brother spoke of seeing the Raven without a shirt, and possessing upon his upper back a red birthmark. It was, these two decided after some discussion, a distinguishing mark that set the Raven apart as a man of greatness. Cain’s mark upon him more like, I longed to cry. But of course I kept my peace, for I know as you must this is the opposite of the mark of Cain placed by God upon that murderer for protection, and rather a brand seared upon the flesh of this outlaw so he may be finally purged from among us.

  I will tell you as well, though I as yet have no proof of it, that if you come to Norchester in search of the man with the red mark, I will not be surprised if he is found to be known to Noah Fallam. Indeed, perhaps known so well to Noah Fallam as to be indistinguishable from him. I state this with respect for the judgment of the Lord Protector and if I am wrong I beg pardon. But even now there are rumors in town to this effect, though people are afraid of both Fallam and the Raven enough not to openly accuse.

  I recommend you arrive on Sunday. Then you will find most of Norchester together in one of three churches and may quickly examine the men of the various congregations for the bearer of the mark. Pastor Fallam preaches at Trinity and I suggest you begin there.

  Your servant,

  W.

  THE afternoon light was waning when Lydde arrived at Soane’s Croft. She’d felt some guilt about leaving Mary with the chores, so she paid tuppence for a length of ribbon at a shop in Sheep Street. Inside the door she was met by Bounder and, after greeting the dog, called out, “Mary! I’ve a present for you!”

  She was startled when Uncle John appeared in the hall outside the study and beckoned to her, a grave expression on his face. When she entered the study, Noah was standing by the hearth. He turned away abruptly and stared at the fire.

  “Where were you?” he said. “I’ve been waiting here all afternoon.”

  “I was with Mossup. We went to Little Gallops to rehearse.” She had expected him to chastise her, and that made her more irritable. “Do you trust me so little you must check up on my every move?”

  Lydde knew as soon as she spoke it was the worst thing she could have said, though she didn’t know why. She stepped closer to Noah, but he moved away from her.

  “She doesn’t know what’s happened,” Uncle John said to Noah. Then, to Lydde, “Mary and Simon are gone. They are married and on their way to Southampton.”

  “What? Has no one tried to stop them?”

  “We wanted you here, but we didn’t know where you had gone,” Uncle John continued, his voice a warning. “Noah performed the ceremony, and Mother Bunch and I stood as witnesses.”

  “Uncle John!” she protested. “How could you let—”

  “For God’s sake!” Noah cried. “Tell her and let us be done with it!”

  “She’s your wife,” Uncle John said. “You need to tell her.”

  Lydde looked from one to the other.

  “She thinks her own thoughts and goes her own way as though nothing else matters,” Noah said, his back still turned to them.

  “Noah, I’m standing here,” Lydde said. “If you have something to say, say it to me.”

  “She does think her own thoughts,” Uncle John said. “It’s one reason you said you love her.”

  “It was,” Noah said. “Only just now I am too frightened to consider that.”

  Uncle John urged her toward Noah with a nod of his head. Lydde went to him then and wrapped her arms around his chest as she had when they looked in the mirror together. She felt him stiffen, but she didn’t let go.

  “Tell me,” she said.

  “All is lost here.” He stood with head bowed. “It is rumored about that I am the Rav
en. It may be a week or more before I am arrested, or it may be at any moment.”

  “Oh, God!” Lydde whispered.

  “There is a man in Southampton,” Noah continued, “who has sent more cargo our way than any other. His brother was the Royalist whose life I saved two years ago, so he owes me a debt and has given a standing offer to pick me up when the time comes. Simon and Mary have gone to Southampton to arrange for one of his ships to stop for…”—he hesitated—“for us, or for me if you choose not to come with me.”

  Lydde stepped back and ducked her head, ashamed. “No wonder you’re angry at me,” she said. “If you had needed to get away quickly, I might have been the death of you.”

  “No,” he said. He turned then and faced her. “You would never have been that to me, but only life.”

  For Lydde time stood as still as it did for Aunt Lavinia while she and Uncle John had their adventures in Norchester. Before her eyes images of her own century passed like flickers of light—rooms always warm in winter, lamps that flared at the flick of a finger, flushing toilets and shampoo and hot running water, television and movies. All a dream, as insubstantial as that pageant conjured, then dissolved, by Prospero in The Tempest. Noah, though, was flesh and blood.

  “When will the ship come for us?” she asked.

  He studied her face. “It will be a hard crossing in winter,” he said in a voice so low she could barely hear him.

  Uncle John cleared his throat. “Lydde, we’ve been talking while we waited for you. You have to be realistic. If you get on a ship for America, you lose all contact with the future. I’ll go back to the Gorge and I may be able to find another wormhole, but God knows if I will, or if it would bring us together again. If you go with Noah, you are facing a hard life, more difficult even than here, and with no escape close at hand. You risk all the diseases of the seventeenth century—smallpox, malaria, typhoid. You risk dying in childbirth. And that’s not all. What if something happens to Noah?”

  To Lydde’s mind, all unbidden, came images of the skeleton in the cave, of the plaque in Norchester Cathedral, Noah Fallam lost in the wilderness of Virginia with the date suddenly remembered, 1671, and that was less than fourteen years away.