'Near Burnham, and Bessie Potter's my name. They'll be back soon. Now my eldest is your size, though not so tall, and here's her best gown. No, you must have something until your man can buy more clothes in Chelmsford. He'll be needing some himself, my Jake's nowhere near his size.' She chuckled and urged Elinor to put on the dress, which was too short and too wide, but they adjusted the laces and she seemed satisfied.
'Beth would have scarlet,' Bessie complained. 'I told her 'twouldn't suit, her being so fair, but it suits you a treat. Shall I brush your hair? I used to be maid to my Lady Frinton afore I wed Jake.'
She dealt briskly with Elinor's tangled hair, chatting about her family, then returning to her pastry after she had persuaded Elinor to sample some of yesterday's pie. Elinor had just finished when Sir Talbot came back with Jake.
Elinor suppressed a smile. He wore his own breeches and shirt, which presumably Bessie had washed and dried during the night, but over them he sported a tight short leather jerkin, much too small, and on his feet he wore clumsy boots. He glanced across at her, a quizzical look in his eyes.
'How do you feel?' he asked.
'Better, thank you,' she replied. 'Where's Matt?'
'I sent him ahead to obtain rooms in Chelmsford,' he said briefly. 'We must ride there as soon as possible, or we will not reach it tonight. Bessie,' he added, turning to her, 'we've been a great deal of trouble, and we are truly grateful. Matt will bring the clothes back as soon as possible.'
He handed her something and Elinor caught a glimpse of gold. Bessie gasped and bobbed a curtsey, then tried to hand it back to him, protesting. He closed her fingers over the coins.
'It is fortunate I always wear a money belt, or I'd have been begging your charity,' he said briskly. 'Come, Elinor, we must away.'
*
Elinor barely had time to add her own thanks as he led the way outside to where two ancient skinny geldings waited. He put her on one and swung onto the other, then, leaving Jake and Bessie waving farewell they set off, the sea sparkling in the sunshine behind them.
'What do you mean to do?' Elinor asked abruptly.
'Matt knows a house where we can remain safely for a few days. It is near Chelmsford, not in it, for I dare not be seen there. Then we must go to London to seek friends who will help us cross to France. It is dangerous, but there is no one else here I can trust.'
He rode on in silence, and Elinor's thoughts were busy assessing this new situation. She would have more opportunities of escape in London, or of enlisting help where there were other travellers. But she must dissemble and plan carefully, until the right moment came to make a bid for freedom.
Within an hour of setting off Elinor was drooping in the saddle. Her ordeal had tired her more than she thought. She did not hear Sir Talbot's question and he had to repeat it.
'Are you feeling unwell?'
Elinor tried to raise her head, and swayed.
'Cold and tired, that is all,' she replied, and made an effort to sit up straight.
'We'll stop soon to eat, but the weather is breaking again and we must not tarry.'
The warm broth revived Elinor somewhat, but after another few miles, when the ominously gathering clouds opened and rain again fell heavily she began to shiver uncontrollably. Sir Talbot took the reins and pulled both horses to a halt. He untied a bundle from behind his saddle.
'You'll be soaked without a cloak. Jake had only one to lend us, put it on.'
As he leaned towards her she swayed and almost fell, and with an oath he seized her round the waist and pulled her onto his own horse, settling her before him with his arm firmly about her.
'I can manage,' she tried to say, but he interrupted her curtly.
'You look as if you'd fall off at the slightest jolt. Be still while I arrange the cloak.'
He contrived to cover her and she ceased protesting, suddenly feeling so weak it was a comfort to relax against him, feeling his warmth and strength. For a while she wove vague plans for escape, then slipped into a doze, aware only of the movement of the horse, the wetness as the rain soaked through her thin clothes, a burning sensation in her throat and the uncontrollable shivering which racked her entire body.
*
Chapter 4
'Damn you, be still!' Elinor heard, and wondered why Sir Talbot was so angry with her. She could not recall moving, and opened her eyes, only to shut them again as the bright sunshine dazzled her. Odd, it had been raining, and she felt wet. Her head ached so violently she could not make the effort to understand.
'For pity's sake, Sir Talbot, what's amiss?'
That was Matt's voice, but he hadn't been there before.
'Take this wretched beast, he's been a plaguey nuisance ever since I had to lead him. Elinor is feverish. Is a bed prepared?'
'Aye, and I told Mistress von Groot what you said. Gently, now, Miss Elinor, I have ye safe.'
'Ach, vat ails the child?' a gutteral voice chimed in, so harsh Elinor could not determine whether it belonged to a man or woman.
'She is feverish from the shipwreck and this wetting. Take these brutes, Matt, I'll carry her up. Have you a hot posset, Mistress von Groot, soothing, for her throat?'
'Ja, I haf just the thing in my still room. I bring it at vonce. Gerda, show the vay.'
Elinor had vague impressions of people moving around her, of being stripped of her wet clothes and wrapped in warm, comforting blankets on a soft bed, then of being made to drink, despite her reluctance to make any effort, until finally she slept. For some days she drifted in a dreamlike state, when nothing was clear, and overheard snatches of conversation meant nothing. Someone always seemed to be there when she wanted to drink, or to wipe her face with cool scented cloths. Then she woke from a nightmare and stared about her in fright.
'Francis! You're drowned! Where are you?' she cried out, clutching at the curtains of the bed, which were partly drawn to shield her from the bright sunshine.
'Softly, Elinor. Francis is not dead, I promise. He had less of a wetting than we did. We are safe now.'
'Safe? Where are we?' she asked, calming down as she recognised Sir Talbot.
'Near Chelmsford, in the house of friends. Are you hungry?'
He came across to rest his hand on her brow, and Elinor recalled all that had happened. She shrank away from him, clutching the bedclothes to her. He did not seem to notice.
'Your fever is gone. I'll send for some broth.'
He went to the door and called down the stairs, then turned to survey Elinor. She frowned, unable to interpret his gaze.
'Francis fell in the water. You fought. Then we were cast ashore. We had to swim,' she recalled. 'How can you know Francis is safe?'
'The water was not deep, and he had friends with him.'
Before she could reply a plump elderly woman bustled into the room carrying a bowl. Sir Talbot took it from her.
'Your good vife, is she vell now? Ach, but she is pale!'
Elinor tried to smile at her. The voice was familiar, but the words were pronounced so strangely she could understand little of what the woman said.
'This is your home? Thank you for helping me,' she managed, looking in surprise at the woman's strange lace-edged cap with its huge upstanding wings. Her hair was unusually pale, dressed smoothly against her head and rolled into a bun, and her bright blue eyes peered curiously out from a rosy, wrinkled face. About her neck was an old-fashioned lace collar, almost a ruff.
She offered to feed Elinor, but Sir Talbot gently but firmly dismissed her, and she backed reluctantly out of the room. Then he fed Elinor, who was ravenous but unable to finish the broth before she drifted back to sleep.
*
Slowly she recovered her strength, too weak to demand explanations, or even find it strange that Sir Talbot was almost always with her. Once she asked where Matt was, to be told he had gone ahead to London.
'After he acquired some clothes for us. Do you not admire my new coat?' he asked teasingly. 'He bought a couple of gowns f
or you, since you have a habit of losing them,' he went on, grinning, and she blushed as she recalled the manner in which he had stripped her own from her when the boat had foundered.
He was gentle until the day she complained she was bored with sleep and would sit in a chair.
'Not yet. You're still weak, and I can't afford a relapse. I'm devilish late as it is and your illness has delayed me far too long already. You'll do as I say.'
'If I'm such a nuisance why didn't you leave me here,' she retorted crossly.
'So that Kit will be enticed into a trap? Have you forgotten everything?' he demanded angrily, and to her helpless fury Elinor felt tears of rage and weakness coursing down her cheeks.
At that unfortunate moment Mistress von Groot appeared with a bowl of raspberries. She peered at Elinor and clucked in concern.
'Vy, my dear, does your man beat you? Never mind, ven you are strong again the lovers' tiffs vill soon be made up.'
She chuckled slyly, then hunched her shoulder as Sir Talbot spoke angrily in a language Elinor could not recognise, and flounced out of the room after banging down the bowl on the table. Elinor recalled a few other odd remarks which at the time she had been too listless to puzzle over.
'What did you say? What language was that?'
'Dutch,' he replied curtly. 'I told her to mind her tongue.'
'We are not in Holland!'
'The von Groots are Dutch, they have lived here some ten years, feeling freer here since they are of the puritan persuasion. There are many in Essex.'
'Puritan? And she helps the papist James?'
'She does not know who we are, but it is precisely the unlikelihood of the connection which makes the house safe for us – and we pay her well enough.'
'But why were you so angry?'
'She is a foolish woman. Now have these raspberries and then you must rest.'
Elinor obeyed, but she did not sleep for long. She lay trying to piece together what she had heard. The phrase 'lovers' tiffs' suddenly came to her and she blushed. Surely Mistress von Groot did not think Sir Talbot was her lover! But why else would he remain with her so much?
Realising with bitter dismay that whatever now happened she would be hopelessly compromised, Elinor dragged aside the bed curtain. No one was there, so she sat up and cautiously swung her legs out of bed. Her head was spinning but she managed to ease herself to the floor, and by holding onto a chair stood up and staggered a few steps. Then she wondered why she was doing it, apart from demonstrating her independence to that overbearing, hateful man.
She was standing there, unable to move, when the door opened and Mistress von Groot appeared. She exclaimed in alarm, and Elinor was glad of her help to get back to the bed.
'Sir Talbot vill be so angry!' she scolded as she tucked Elinor up.
'He won't let me get up!' Elinor tried to explain.
'Ach, you must not try ven he is avay from you! These husbands, they are so domineering! But natural he is anxious ven you are so newly ved, no?'
Just in time Elinor bit back the denial. Perhaps all was not lost if Sir Talbot had tried to protect her reputation by pretending they were married. No one else would be aware of the true facts.
'Where is he?' she asked, unwilling to claim the relationship in speaking of him.
'Inspecting a horse the other man brought.'
'The other man? Matt? Is he returned then?'
'An hour since. Soon you vill be able to go home. Vere do you live?'
'Near Norwich,' Elinor said unthinkingly.
'Both of you? Haf you known Sir Talbot for long? It is plainly a love match,' she chuckled.
Elinor, astonished, wondered for a moment if she should confess the truth and beg Mistress von Groot's aid. But the woman's prying inquisitiveness repelled Elinor, and she would be sure to gloat over her predicament without being of any practical help.
'How long haf you been ved?' the inquisition continued, and Elinor lay back, her eyes closed, trying not to listen. 'I vondered because you do not vear a ring,' her tormentor continued.
Elinor looked at her guiltily, but before she could reply Sir Talbot had entered the room, and he grinned reassuringly at her.
'It was overlarge, and we had no time to alter it,' he said coolly, coming to sit on the bed beside Elinor and pulling her towards him. 'What have you been doing, my love?' he went on. 'You look pale.'
At the unexpected endearment Elinor contradicted his words by blushing vividly. She was struck anew at his handsome appearance now he had good clothes. Also it made her nervous to have him sitting so closely, holding her tightly to him, his fingers apparently absentmindedly caressing her shoulder, burning her flesh through the thin cambric nightrail she wore.
'She vas getting out of bed,' Mistress von Groot said disapprovingly. 'Now you are here you can no doubt persuade her to remain there quite happily!'
She chortled, cast a roguish glance at the embarrassed Elinor, and padded away, slamming the door pointedly.
Sir Talbot stared after her thoughtfully. Elinor tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he did not appear to notice.
'Why did you pretend?' she asked eventually.
He looked down at her and grinned. His face was very close to hers and she was unable to drag her eyes away from his intent gaze.
'How else could I could remain with you? The von Groots are not in our secrets, and I feared what you might say in delirium. I could scarcely trust you to their care.'
'When do we leave?' Elinor demanded coldly. 'Am I still your prisoner?'
'If you choose not to come willingly.'
*
Her strength rapidly returned during the next few days, and soon she was able to dress in the gowns Matt had selected for her. One was of a brilliant cornflower blue, exactly matching her eyes. The sleeves were gathered with narrow black velvet ribbons threaded through eyelet holes, matching ribbons edged the slashed bodice, and the inset stomacher was embroidered with black and cream thread, the same embroidery repeated on the skirt panels. It was trimmed with costly foaming lace, and was far more gorgeous than anything her aunt had considered suitable for a girl of her age and position. She wondered whether Sir Talbot was rich, careless with his money, or merely ignorant of the cost of female apparel.
Her only fault, she considered as she dressed one morning, and contemplated her appearance in a small mirror, was her paleness. Her face was grave as it looked back at her. Her eyes, dark fringed and wide set, were possibly too large, for she had lost weight during her fever and her cheeks were thin. But her complexion was good, her skin smooth, and her dark curls fashionably dressed with ringlets hanging down over each shoulder and short wispy curls across her high, wide forehead. Her mouth too was wide, too much so, she thought dispassionately, but her nose was straight, and her teeth white, small and even. She bit her lips and pinched her cheeks to bring more colour to them. That was better.
'A charming picture, my dear,' Sir Talbot commented, coming into the room.
She swung round to him, her cheeks now rosy with embarrassment at his compliment.
'It is beautiful, but too costly,' she stammered. 'There is no need to spend so much on my gowns.'
'Kit would not care for you to go in rags,' he replied carelessly, and she realised she had not considered the possibility Kit might be financing him.
'How can he afford it?' she asked blankly.
Sir Talbot eyed her in amusement. 'Do you now accept I come from him?' he asked.
She shrugged. 'I do not know. The whole affair is mad, but why else should you abduct me?'
'Why else, indeed? Kit can afford to buy you a gown because he is now wed to a very wealthy French lady.'
'Kit married? Why did you not tell me before? Who is she?'
'Her name is Louise. They met the first week we were in France after escaping from Preston. Her family gave us shelter and they were wed two months later.'
'And he lives on her money? It sounds unlike Kit,' Elinor said slowly.
/> 'He sent his own to France before the King's expedition. He did not wish, if things went ill, your uncle to obtain possession of it. He bought a small estate near Paris. He did send word to you, but as I told you he had to go to Spain and it was a long time before he realised that you had never received the message.'
'Why did he go to Spain?'
'King James has not abandoned hope of regaining his father's throne, but his rising was premature, and the Earl of Mar's assistance inadequate. He needs better support.'
'I recall Kit saying something of the same. I took little heed, for I did not suspect he meant to join the rebels.'
'You regard him as a rebel?'
'That is how my uncle always referred to them,' Elinor explained. 'It seems to me of little matter who sits on the throne.'
'Even though by right it belongs to King James the Third? German George has no good claim on it.'
'But the English would never accept a papist or a King who would rule without Parliament.'
'James is King by right of birth, not because a few self-seeking windbags in Westminster want a puppet who will do their bidding. As for his religion, would you respect him more if he compromised on his beliefs for temporal gain?'
Elinor shook her head. 'Uncle Edward says Parliament is necessary to prevent the King from ever taxing people unfairly, as the old King Charles did, causing bloodshed and war.'
'Is Parliament always going to be fair and just? Many of the men there want power and glory, not justice. Better to have a King who rules by natural justice, having both rights and duties.'
'Surely all Kings know their duty?'
Sir Talbot gave a wry grin. 'George of Hanover is a poor example. He flaunts his own dreadful mistresses, yet holds his wife in captivity because of her infidelity. He refuses to speak the language of his subjects, and uses England as a pawn for the benefit of Hanover. And there were two score or more before him with better claim to the throne.'
'But his mother was the granddaughter of James the First,' Elinor protested. 'Charles the Second, William and Mary and Queen Anne had no children, so they had to go a long way back.'
'Selectively. His mother had a dozen older brothers and sisters, whose offspring all had a better claim than she did to the throne, but they were either Catholics or married to such, which Parliament would not countenance,' Sir Talbot explained.
'I hadn't realised that,' Elinor admitted. 'It does seem unfair. But is Kit involved in plans to invade again?'
Rebel Heart Page 4