Letters in the Grove

by Felicia Rogers

  The stable master brought out two horses for his inspection. Gustav handed over the necessary funds and they waited while the horses were saddled.

  Mounted, Teresa and Gustav set out again toward the shore. The entire journey Gustav thought of ways to apologize for his less-than-gentlemanly behavior, but the words failed to come from his lips. They reached the shore and acquired passage across the channel. The trip consisted of Teresa murmuring words of encouragement as he lost his meals over the railing.

  Once they stepped foot on English soil Gustav couldn’t have been happier. They had survived. Fellow comrades he could call on lived in the city, but he decided to avoid them lest they accidentally give away his presence. Instead, they stayed in ramshackle buildings owned by landlords who would accept labor for payment. They wore ratty clothing. All this was designed to throw Herr Wulf off their scent until they could secure passage to Scotland. The money he gathered from his hotel room in France was dwindling, which caused acquiring new transport to prove difficult. Their journey to Scotland began on foot. A few times they secured passage with carriages traveling in a northward direction. Towns scattered throughout the country were filled with news of burnings and other atrocities.

  As Max instructed, Gustav didn’t read the parchment until they reached England. When he finally saw the first words, he was shocked to see Lucille Cameron’s name. The papers held an introduction as well as a statement that basically said you owe us. Teresa and he were headed to Cameron lands to hide and wait out Herr Raeder.

  Tonight they stayed at the same inn he had stayed at with Max and Olga on their journey to Germany. The young stable boy who stood in awe of him last time welcomed them.

  While the boy watched their animals, Gustav and Teresa settled in the inn. Teresa stretched upon the bed. The heat of her gaze reached him from across the room. They had talked very little on their journey. Speech was a tiring thing. And what was there to say? They had left everything behind and now they were going farther away, to a destiny unknown to either of them, to rely on people they’d never met. Perhaps he could say he was sorry for running out on her to visit Max, but the idea of apologizing for his past behavior seemed unwarranted in light of their growing closeness.

  Teresa patted the bed. Gustav’s pulse increased as he settled beside her and she placed a delicate hand on his arm and stroked him.

  “Gustav, kiss me.”

  He complied and a jolt shot through him as their lips connected. He placed his hand on the back of her head, weaving it through her silken tresses, and drew her closer. A moan rent the air, whether from her lips or his own he wasn’t sure. Caught in the moment, they didn’t hear the knock on the door.

  The door creaked open and slapped the wall. Gustav rolled off the bed and stood in front of Teresa in a protective stance.

  The young boy from the stables stood in the doorway, he twisted his hat in his hands as he studied Gustav’s bare feet. “Sir, there is a man downstairs and he is looking for you. He says it is urgent.”

  Gustav glanced over his shoulder. Teresa lay on her back, her arm thrown over her eyes. “Go. You won’t be satisfied until you do.”

  She seemed unconcerned that the person in question could be Victor. He patted her leg. “I will be back.”

  “Of course,” she said with disappointment.

  Gustav followed the young man. In the hallway he grabbed the lad’s arm and squeezed. “Do not ever burst into my room again.”

  “Sorry, sir. I didn’t try to burst through; the door kind of just came open when I knocked.”

  Gustav let go and stalked past. At the bottom of the stairs he edged around the wall and peered into the front room. The man that awaited him was tall and unfamiliar.

  “Gustav, get in here. I need to speak with you. By the way, I know you are there. I can smell you. Do you ever bathe?”

  The voice reminded him of— “Jean, is that you?”

  “Aye, it is. Do you like the disguise?”

  “Aye. It is well done.” Gustav moved around the wall and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I thought so. Listen I’ve been in England for some time and I received word of your arrival. You travel fast. It has taken me forever to catch up to you.”

  “We are in a hurry,” Gustav shot a glance at the stairs.

  “I have heard. Herr Wulf is on the English shore and following your trail. Quite well, I’m afraid. It won’t take him long to catch you.”

  Gustav dropped into a chair and allowed his shoulders to droop.

  “I know this is not the news you wished to hear. If you travel on your present course you will only bring more trouble to the Camerons. You need a new plan.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Perhaps nothing, perhaps something. Word is your wife has been implicated in moving messages from Protestant groups within Augsburg to those groups on the outskirts. Is this true?”

  Gustav shrugged one shoulder. “Aye.”

  “How much does she know?”

  “Jean, it doesn’t matter. The fact remains that those in Augsburg believe she knows everything and that she has the code they need to decipher further messages.”

  “I see. Then perhaps we need to help Herr Wulf find the true messenger.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Jean removed his wig and fell into a seat. He leaned forward on his elbows. “Perhaps there is a way to put Herr Wulf on the trail of another so your wife will no longer be in danger. You must tell me everything that has transpired.”

  The night waned as Gustav shared their tale. Jean listened quietly, which was Gustav’s only indication that his friend had a plan.

  ****

  “I will not go,” said Teresa, her arms folded over her chest.

  “I’m afraid it is the only way. I do not wish to run for the rest of our lives or to put our family and friends in further danger.”

  Teresa stood and flung her arms to her sides. “Doing this is suicide!”

  “Nay, it will work. It has to work.”

  “Jean Broussard is sending us to our deaths. If we walk into Queen Mary’s court…” Teresa stopped, shook her head, and chewed on her lip.

  They had left the inn and returned to London. Gustav paced their hotel suite. “Dress. The royal carriage will arrive soon. When we enter the court stay by my side at all times. Do not speak, just smile.”

  “Can I bite on my tongue? Do you think they will mind overly much if blood dribbles from my lips?”

  Gustav sighed and continued to prepare. The fancy clothing Jean had provided rode in the most uncomfortable ways. Used to working under certain circumstances, Gustav held his complaints for later.

  The carriage arrived and drew to a shuddering halt outside the hotel. Chin held aloft, Gustav escorted Teresa through the lobby and into the afternoon air. She remained silent as they climbed inside. She had remained unconvinced by the validity of their plan and he couldn’t blame her. They were walking into the lion’s den, or jumping from the pot into the fire. If they escaped unscathed it would truly be a miracle.

  The carriage came to a stop before St. James’s Palace. Word on the street was that Queen Mary was ill. The expected birth of a child in May had never come to fruition, and the disappointment of the event had sent the queen into a depressed state.

  The driver opened the carriage door and Gustav stepped out, offering a hand to Teresa. She stalled on the top step, staring at the imposing structure. Under her breath she whispered, “Are you sure about this?”

  “Aye,” came from his lips, but it was the furthest thing from what he felt. If something happened to Teresa or if Jean’s plan backfired, he would never forgive himself.

  They entered the grandiose palace and were escorted to the queen’s court. The queen herself was not in attendance. Courtiers, musicians, and other council members gathered to dance, eat, and behave in a merry fashion.

  They were greeted and then ignored which worked to their advantage. Teresa stuck close to
his side. Her hand tightened upon his arm. He lifted his chin. Victor Wulf strode into the room. Arrayed in black, he appeared even more sinister than before. He spoke with the palace guards before focusing his attention on those in attendance. A smile covered his entire face and Gustav knew they’d been spotted. Teresa increased the pressure on his forearm as Victor closed the gap between them.

  “Good evening, Frau Braun. You are a hard woman to find.”

  A tremble raced along Teresa’s arm and Gustav’s anger flared. “Herr Wulf, you will address me, not my wife.”

  “Ah, the prodigal husband comes to do his manly duty. In the end it will not matter. You see, I have just come from speaking to the queen. As you know, her majesty agrees with the prince-bishop’s cause. She has given me permission to escort the woman to Germany.”

  Sir Jean Broussard exited from a nearby alcove. He bowed low in front of Gustav. “My lord, welcome to court. We are delighted to have such an honored guest.”

  Gustav nodded and Herr Wulf shot a confused look between them.

  Jean said, “Her majesty will see you now. Please bring along your wife as well.”

  Gustav and Teresa walked toward the queen’s chamber, but before reaching it, they slipped out a side door and left it cracked. Victor fidgeted. From a hallway several women of various heights appeared. All were blonde with blue eyes. Each of them wore the same gown. They filtered through the room of dancers, lightly touching the arms of several gentlemen before moving on.

  Victor’s gaze was drawn to them. His lips tilted downward.

  “Is there a problem, monsieur?” asked Jean, tilting his ear toward his companion.

  “Nay, I–I just thought I saw someone I knew.”

  “That happens all the time around here. So many beautiful women with blond hair and blue eyes all wearing similar gowns, why sometimes it is hard to find the one you are looking for. You see that one over there on the arm of the lord? That is the queen’s cousin. But the one who lingers behind her fan in the corner, she is a servant.”

  The frown on Victor’s face deepened.

  The servant stood and sauntered toward a row of plants that graced the wall. She drew a parchment from a silk purse and slid it between the large leaves.

  Victor took a step forward, but Jean placed a restraining hand on his arm. “You see the note she placed in the plant.”

  He nodded, lines deepening on his forehead.

  “That note is for her lover. They pass missives this way. You see, she is a servant and he is an important member of the queen’s court. If it were discovered that they were secretly meeting, it could lead to disaster.”

  Gustav and Teresa relaxed against one another. Victor’s rapt attention of the happenings around him gave them hope. If everything worked as planned, then Victor would begin to doubt what he thought of Teresa’s involvement in the Augsburg plot and he would return home empty-handed.

  Chapter Thirty

  “Teresa, are you ready? The coach is waiting.”

  Teresa stared at the looking glass. The pale yellow fabric highlighted the golden streaks in her hair. Cradling her chin in one hand, she touched her stomach. The subtle movements mimicked tiny butterflies.

  For weeks she had known of her condition. Not telling Gustav had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. Why she kept the joyous news to herself she didn’t know. He would be just as excited as she. But something held her back.

  “Teresa?” he called from the other room.

  “Aye?”

  He entered and all the air escaped. He wore a brocade coat and a new pair of breeches. His wavy brown hair lay at a jaunty angle across his forehead and Teresa ached to run her fingers through its softness. Then he smiled and her heart skipped a beat.

  “Cherie, we must go. The carriage is waiting. Word has been sent to the Camerons and they are expecting us.”

  Teresa stood and slinked toward him. An extra sway entered her hips and his eyes widened.

  “I’m not ready to leave.” She punctuated the words by trailing her finger along the open v of his tunic.

  He cleared his throat, grabbed her hand, placed it to his lips, and kissed the sensitive spot on the underside of her wrist. “I understand how you feel, love, but we have to leave now. This can happen later, aye?”

  Teresa pulled away, her feelings hurt. She clutched her bag from the bed and backed toward the hallway. They were seated in the carriage before she chanced a look at him.

  “I’m sorry, love. I really am. But we have to leave now. Victor is still in the city. Word is that he is set to leave, but we don’t want to be anywhere near if he changes his mind.”

  Teresa nodded and steadied herself as the carriage lurched into motion.

  Miraculously, the trip was uneventful. News in London traveled fast and as they stopped at different taverns they learned of Victor. After the celebration, he had gathered friends of like mind. When told there was no proof of Teresa’s involvement from their end, Victor seemed to turn his queries elsewhere. Assured by Jean Broussard’s emissary that Victor was indeed on his way back across the channel, Teresa had finally relaxed.

  Craggy landscapes dotted the Scottish countryside. Purple heather swayed with the breeze across open fields. Small towns sported little more than a tavern and a blacksmith. Yet the place held an ethereal beauty that called to her heart.

  When they reached Cameron property several large Scotsmen greeted them. Gustav and Teresa rode on one horse as they were escorted through the gates of the keep.

  “Do you think they will accept us?” she whispered.

  “Jean has assured me they will.”

  The sword pointed at their backs as they rode forward did not reassure her.

  Massive wooden gates closed behind them. Peals of laughter from excited children floated around them. A man of extreme size approached and assisted Teresa from the horse. Behind him stood a woman with slanted eyes and black hair.

  “Welcome to Cameron lands. I am Bryce Cameron and this is my wife, Lucy.”

  Gustav shook hands with Bryce. “Thank you for allowing us to visit.”

  “Jean said ye might be by, but he didn’t really say why.”

  “Aye, that sounds like him. Leaving me the opportunity to explain,” said Gustav, a sigh parting his lips.

  While the two men chatted, Lucy stepped forward. “How was your trip?”

  “Uneventful,” she said, trying to relax, and secretly studying the grounds.

  “How far along are you?”

  “What?” asked Teresa, blinking rapidly and facing the inquisitive lady.

  “You are expecting, aren’t you?”

  Teresa looked behind her to make sure Gustav hadn’t overheard. She whispered, “Aye, how did you know?”

  Lucy smiled. “Trust me, I can tell. You have a glow about you.”

  “Have you any children?”

  Lucy rubbed her own stomach. “Working on the first one now. Although I’m not very far along.”

  “Then how did you—“

  “I’m in the keep with a very prolific bunch. Bryce has five girl cousins and they are pushing babies out quite often.”

  “I see.”

  “I take it by the way you keep looking around that you haven’t told your husband.”

  “Nay,” Teresa said, while she scuffed at the ground with the toe of her slipper.

  “Why not?”

  Before Teresa was forced to explain her fears of being abandoned, Gustav appeared at her side. He placed his hand on the small of her back. “Bryce has invited us to stay for as long as we need to. Grant, his cousin, is the Lord of the Cameron clan. They have already discussed our arrival and all has been accepted.”

  Teresa nodded.

  The days that followed consisted of learning the area and the people. Grant and Sorcha were wonderful hosts. They opened their home to Gustav and Teresa as if they were long lost family. The Irish priest Gustav had been too late to save happened to be Grant’s late brother, Samuel. T
he family still grieved the lad’s loss, but continued to let his memory live in their hearts.

  Sorcha told horrific stories of burnings that occurred in Ireland at the behest of the English crown, including her own experience. Shivers raced along Teresa spine as she imagined what Sorcha must have felt like when she witnessed her own mother perish by fire with the knowledge she was set to be next. The thought of such atrocities would leave her with nightmares.

  Day after day the baby grew larger within her and Gustav remained ignorant of her condition. The women in the Cameron household helped conceal the babe by letting out the seams in her clothing. At night Teresa made sure to curl into a little ball and shift far away from her husband. Often he would frown, but he never questioned the action.

  Today she settled on a bench and stared at the keep’s walls. Weeks had passed in relative bliss. They had helped work the land and in turn they were allowed shelter and food. Teresa longed for the day when they would have their own property. Worry over never being on their own continued to fill her. How could Gustav be content in a foreign country, living on someone else’s property for the rest of their natural lives?

  “You’re brooding.”

  Startled by Gustav’s voice, Teresa touched her rounded stomach and faced him. His brows drew together in deep concentration.

  “You’re expecting,” he said breathlessly.

  Teresa worked to move her mouth but nothing came out.

  “You didn’t tell me. Why? Do I not deserve to know you are going to have my child?” He placed his hands on her upper arms and shook her slightly. “I have waited as long as you. Tell me why you hid this from me.”

  Still no words came to her parted lips. Gustav withdrew his hands and placed them to his side as he stalked away. Teresa fell to the ground. Tears came easily, streaming along her cheeks. Passersby kept going and for that Teresa was grateful.

  She lowered her head and cradled her head in her hands. Marketers had entered the gates and now hawked their wares around her. Excitement filtered through the air. Teresa stood and stumbled toward the nearest wagon. Items hung from the top and sides of the large wooden box. The seller stood on a square and yelled loudly that his product was sure to cure any ill.