Runaway Hill

by Oliver, Marina

  'Waller?' Drusilla interjected, and Randal smiled at her understandingly.

  'There have been a few minor engagements, but nothing of any moment,' he said reassuringly.

  'Did you not say your brother was serving under Waller?' Barbara asked, and Mary looked at Drusilla in horror.

  'He is a rebel?' she breathed incredulously.

  'Many families are divided, as you know well,' Randal intervened quickly, preventing Drusilla from replying, and then he went on to tell of the reports they had received from London of the poor conditions there, the many beggars, the disruption of trading and the general discontent. 'If all this is true, the war may soon be over.'

  'Oh, how I pray for that!' Mary exclaimed, turning to smile at Randal. 'Then we can all return to normal life, can we not?'

  'Some might find it dull afterwards,' he said teasingly, and Drusilla looked away, unable to watch with adequate composure the pair of them and the terms of intimacy they were on.

  After more talk of the war, Mistress Burton asked Randal what arrangements he intended to make for Drusilla.

  'It is not that I wish you to leave us, my dear,' she said to Drusilla, 'but that I fear your parents, learning of the capture of Reading, must be exceedingly anxious about you, and you doubtless wish to reassure them of your safety at the earliest possible moment.'

  'Drusilla is hardly fit to set out immediately,' Randal said firmly. 'Besides, I have to wait a day or so for instructions. I have persuaded the King to send me to Cornwall on a mission so I can combine duty with pleasure and escort Drusilla as I promised her.'

  'You mean to leave again almost at once?' Mary said with a provocative pout of the lips. 'Oh, that is too bad!'

  'Will it not delay you to have to go to Devizes?' his sister asked, frowning. 'I am certain we could provide Mistress Matthews with a strong escort, and then she would be able to remain here for as long as necessary, until she is fully recovered.'

  'I think another two days will be sufficient, and Devizes is directly on my way. Besides, I promised Drusilla to see her safely home.'

  'Well, let us hope your mission in Cornwall will not take you away from us for too long, brother. In the meantime, Mary, I will be able to show you all over the house,' she added significantly.

  *

  Drusilla had no opportunity of private speech with Randal, and she was not certain she wanted it. It was clear from his sister's behaviour that she regarded Mary as already betrothed to him, and Mary behaved with a sweetly possessive air Randal appeared to enjoy. She had been a fool to read anything more than a casual friendliness or sympathy in a few easily given kisses, Drusilla told herself fiercely as she prepared for bed that night. No doubt he was wishing her at the devil, and no doubt also if this mission to Sir Ralph Hopton in Cornwall had not been given him, he would have been ready enough to accept his sister's suggestion of sending someone else to escort Drusilla to Devizes. It was only his good manners, she thought, that made him refuse to show how tedious he must regard the burden she was to him.

  On the following day, a group of horsemen appeared riding up the long avenue which led to the house, and reined in before the massive front door. Drusilla, to escape having to listen to Mary telling Randal news of all their friends in Oxford, had slipped out of the house and was slowly returning from a walk across the meadows that separated it from a thick belt of trees some hundred yards away, so was unable to avoid the visitors. She halted, eyeing them doubtfully as they dismounted, talking gaily, but was forced to approach when Randal appeared on the steps and, seeing her hesitating a short distance away, hailed her.

  'Welcome, Your Highnesses,' he was saying as she reached the group, and then she found the renowned Prince Rupert, tall, debonair and dashingly handsome, bowing over her hand.

  'I am charmed to meet you, Mistress Matthews. Randal has been singing your praises so loudly I had to come and see you for myself. I understand you disarmed a ruffian who was attacking him, and for that alone, saving him for us, you have my most grateful thanks!'

  The Prince's brother, Maurice, a younger and in every way slightly smaller version of him, was then introduced, and the other men, all young and merry, but Drusilla was so overwhelmed she could not afterwards recall a single name or face apart from those of the Princes.

  'We are come to dinner, as you suggested,' Prince Rupert announced, as they strolled along the terrace before the house. 'I have your instructions, and you are to set out tomorrow. Be sure to hasten back to us, Randal, for I have many plans for harassing the rebels, and your knowledge of this area will be of tremendous assistance. We can descend on London itself, if we've a mind to it, from our garrisons at Abingdon and Wallingford. That would frighten the good citizens, no?'

  After three hours of his energetic company, Drusilla felt she knew now why he had the reputation he did, for courage and leadership in his famous cavalry charges, and enterprise in outwitting the enemy, but she thought his very energy and impatience would set more cautious people against him. When he and his friends eventually left, Randal turned to Drusilla.

  'I am pleased to see you look more restored today. Will you be able to ride tomorrow? We should be able to do the journey in one day if we start early and rest on the way.'

  'Yes, I am quite able to ride so far,' Drusilla said, but with a sinking heart, for in all probability it would be the last day she would spend with him, the last time she would ever see him, and soon he would be wed to the lovely Mary Percy.

  *

  Early on the following morning they rode away from Thornton Hall, and although she expressed regret at losing her unexpected visitor so soon, Mistress Burton did not give the impression of being sorry to see the last of her. Of the two ladies, Mary Percy seemed to have a more genuine regret at parting, but Drusilla cynically told herself this could only be because Mary was perturbed at the thought of Randal being alone in Drusilla's company all day.

  They left Abingdon and Wantage behind them, and then crossed Lambourne Downs. Until they rode up on to the downs, they had been passing through many tiny villages, and the roads had been busy. They met a couple of foraging parties from the Abingdon garrison, and there were many wagons and pack ponies carrying goods to sell to the King's army. On the downs, however, it was quiet and peaceful, and Drusilla was surprised when she looked back to see three more travellers taking the same track.

  'We have company,' she said to Randal, indicating them, and he looked back, frowning.

  'Aye, and there is something about them I do not like. I am certain I saw one of them passing the main gates as we left the Hall.'

  'You think they are following us? Who could it be?' Drusilla asked in alarm.

  'Oh, no doubt I am wrong, unduly suspicious. But Drusilla, I want you to promise that if aught should happen to me, you will gallop away as fast as you can! I still have not taught you to use a pistol!' he added with a laugh.

  'I could not leave you!' she protested.

  'You must be sensible,' he said firmly, and as she appeared about to argue, went on persuasively, 'If you stay, we are both in more danger, since they will want to dispose of witnesses. If you can escape, you could possibly obtain help from the nearest house or village.'

  Reluctantly, as he insisted, Drusilla promised to do her utmost to escape, and she kept looking back over her shoulder apprehensively, her anxieties lessening slightly when she saw the riders, whoever they were, made no attempt to narrow the distance between them.

  'We will halt for a rest and some food in Lambourne,' Randal said, as they came in sight of the town, and they found an inn overlooking the river where they procured a roasted chicken, some rabbit pie, and some excellent ale.

  Randal had been watching from the window and saw the other travellers go past. They did not appear to have noticed Randal and Drusilla had halted, and did not give the inn a second glance, being apparently much more interested in watching some village girls who were beside the river. After a lengthy rest Randal suggested it was time
for them to be on their way again, and called for the horses.

  Two miles further on, they were passing through a small copse when the report of a pistol sounded close to them. Drusilla's horse reared in fright and she had considerable difficulty in preventing the terrified animal from bolting. By the time she had brought him under control again she realised Randal was struggling to fight off two men who had closed in on either side, while another, still in the shadows cast by the trees, was levelling a pistol at him, but was apparently unable to fire because of the mêlée of figures in the roadway.

  Completely forgetting her promise, Drusilla urged her reluctant mount closer to the fray, and raising her whip brought it down sharply on the head of the man nearest her. He turned with an oath, and Randal, who had drawn his sword, was able to render him of no further threat by a timely thrust at his shoulder. The other attacker tried to close in while Randal's attention was so engaged, but with a rapid movement Randal twisted his sword and brought it swinging round and down towards the other. He attempted to move sideways, but the sword glanced off his shoulder, tearing the stuff of his doublet, and the point then made a jagged cut in his thigh, which was soon spouting crimson blood. The man under the trees fired wildly as Randal turned towards him, though still keeping well under cover. The shot missed Randal, but the bullet lacerated Drusilla's arm in the upper, fleshy part, and the searing pain caused her to gasp and, as she clutched at her injured arm, let go the reins so that the terrified horse, having no restraint on him, threw her to the ground as he galloped away along the track.

  *

  The armed man had turned and gone, followed by his wounded companions.

  Randal leapt down from his horse and ran to where Drusilla lay motionless. A swift examination showed that the bullet had scratched a deep cut on her arm, and this was bleeding freely, but it was the fall which had knocked her senseless. As he lifted her in his arms, she groaned and her eyelids flickered, then she lay still, scarcely breathing.

  Randal's own mount, not unaccustomed to the sound of firing pistols or being involved in hand to hand struggles, had remained where Randal had left him, and begun to nibble the grass at the side of the road. Randal tore off his cravat, ripped the sleeve of Drusilla's shirt to lay bare the wound, and hastily bound up her arm, then carried her and carefully lifted her on to the saddle before him, contriving to mount without shaking her too much. He recalled seeing a small inn some few hundred yards back along the road, and judged it the closest place for seeking help, so he turned his horse and guided it gently back until this small building was reached.

  There were two women standing gossiping by the door and they exclaimed in horror when Randal rode up to them, for apart from still lying supine in Randal's arms, Drusilla's shirt was muddy and bloodstained.

  'Pray fetch mine host,' Randal ordered, and one of the women darted into the inn while the other came across to help him hold Drusilla steady while he carefully dismounted. They ignored her unconventional breeches, clucking only at the amount of blood.

  'A bed, at once!' he said, lifting her down and carrying her into the inn, where a flustered innkeeper met him, and while talking volubly about the wicked soldiers who were ravaging the countryside, led the way up some steep narrow stairs to fling open one of the two small doors at the top and indicate to Randal that he was to enter.

  Randal had to bend his head to pass under the low doorway, and he found the room to be small and roughly furnished with a small bed and a table, with a rickety chair beside the window. Laying Drusilla down upon the bed, Randal turned to the innkeeper who hovered by the door, seeming unwilling to enter.

  'Send someone to fetch the nearest surgeon, if you please, and bring me water and clean linen immediately.'

  The man nodded.

  'There's a doctor in Lambourne, if he be there at this time,' he said eagerly. 'If not, I do believe there be one at Wantage.'

  'Make sure whoever you send does not come back without one or the other, or I'll make him wish he'd not come back at all!' was the only response he received, and he hastened to obey this imperious guest.

  As the innkeeper bowed himself out of the room, the woman who had helped Randal lift Drusilla down appeared, carrying a bowl of warm water and some clean rags.

  'Shall I be attending to her cuts?' she asked, and Randal smiled briefly at her.

  'It is no cut, Mistress, but a pistol graze. Not serious, I warrant, but it has bled profusely.'

  'Then I've a salve that would be just the thing to soothe it,' she offered. 'I'll fetch it at once.'

  She went off, and Randal carefully unbound his temporary bandage. To his relief the wound did not seem any worse than he had first thought, and by the time he had washed it the woman was back and was offering him a small pot full of a sweet-smelling unguent. He thanked her briefly and covered the wound with it, then bound Drusilla's arm tightly.

  'Did she swoon?' the woman asked, looking at Drusilla's still lifeless form.

  'No, her horse was startled and threw her,' he replied. 'I think there is a bruise on her head, but I did not wait to examine her closely.'

  As he spoke, he was gently easing Drusilla's curls aside, and revealed a swelling on the side of her head.

  'Oh, 'tis bad, sir! How long ago?'

  'A few minutes only. Did you not hear the firing? The villains shot at us twice.'

  The woman shook her head.

  'It was too far away, no doubt, and the trees deaden sound. Do you know who they were? Did they seek to rob you, or were they soldiers?'

  'I do not think they were robbers or soldiers,' he said slowly. 'Have you been troubled much by either?'

  She shrugged. 'Those foolish enough to leave their sheep or cattle untended these days find them gone. And now, I hear tell, we are asked for heavy taxes to pay for the war! It seems daft to me! Why cannot folk be sensible and agree?'

  At that moment Drusilla stirred slightly, and Randal, who had seated himself beside her on the bed, took her hand gently in his.

  'Drusilla,' he said softly, and her eyelids fluttered, and she sighed.

  'She will be sensible soon,' the woman predicted. 'I'll take away the water and rags.'

  She did so, and within a few minutes Drusilla opened her eyes and looked up at Randal

  *

  'Hush, my love, don't talk, you are safe!' he said, and she smiled up at him, then winced as she felt the swelling on her head.

  'My head hurts!' she whispered. 'What happened?'

  'You were thrown when the horse bolted, startled by the shots.'

  'Shots? My head? And my arm, too?'

  'The bullet grazed your arm, that is all. The lump on your head is where you fell, and now you must not talk any more.'

  'Where are we?' she asked, ignoring his command.

  'At a small inn nearby. I have sent for a surgeon, and you must lie still until he sees you. Try to rest.'

  'Are you hurt? I remember now, some men. Who were they?'

  'I did not see,' he replied. 'You came to my aid again, my dear, when I had expressly forbidden you to intervene. Mayhap they would have dispatched me if you had not, so again I owe you my life. But I had rather you had not been hurt, my sweetest love!'

  She smiled again, and with a sigh drifted back into a half-conscious state.

  Randal watched her anxiously, and was heartily relieved when the woman who had helped him so competently previously, and who had proved to be the innkeeper's wife, knocked softly on the door and announced the surgeon had arrived.

  He was an elderly man, but he appeared to know what he was about, and after a swift examination of Drusilla's head, turned to Randal.

  'I will not disturb the bandage to see the other wound, for if Mistress Saddler assisted you I can be satisfied until tomorrow, for she is a skilled nurse. I do not like the head wound, though, the humours appear to be badly affected. I will bleed the young lady, and come again tomorrow.

  He was laying out his instruments as he talked, and with a
nod and a smile, turned back to take Drusilla's uninjured arm and swiftly open a vein and withdraw some blood. She stirred slightly, and once opened her eyes during the process, but relapsed into insensibility almost immediately. There was nothing else to be done apart from keep a close watch on her, he said, as he rose to depart, promising again to be there on the following day.

  Towards late afternoon, Drusilla roused enough to ask Randal where they were. She appeared to have forgotten about the attack, and he answered her briefly, saying she had been hurt and must rest. He attempted to give her some broth Mistress Saddler had prepared, but after a mouthful she pushed it away, and again slipped into unconsciousness.

  Deeply concerned at these prolonged effects of her fall, Randal remained watching over her, setting a candle where its glow could not disturb her when darkness came. As the night wore on, Drusilla became restless, and tossed on the bed, apparently oblivious to the pain of her wounds, for she made no attempt to avoid turning on to them. Her skin was dry and feverish, and Randal, anxious to keep the bed coverings over her, for the night was chill, and the room boasted no fireplace, found she could be quietened when he held her cradled in his arms, and he could keep her well covered and also protect her wounded arm and head, preventing her from injuring them further.

  As he sat on the bed with her cradled in his arms, the candle finally gutted, and he realised the dawn would soon appear. Drusilla had been quieter for the past hour, and her fever seemed to have lessened, and some time after the first birds had heralded a new day she stirred, opening her eyes and looking up into his.

  'Oh, my head!' she exclaimed, as she moved slightly. Then she frowned, and tried to look about her. 'What in the world has happened? Where are we? What is amiss?'

  'You have been feverish, and the only way to prevent you from throwing off all the covers, or rolling over on to your arm, was to imprison you!' he replied lightly, and laid her back on to the pillows, sliding off the bed and standing looking down at her with an expression in his eyes that caused Drusilla to bite her lip and drop her own gaze.

  'You have sat with me all night? Oh, Randal, I am sorry! You must be exceedingly tired!'