Rebel Heart

by Marina Oliver

'We will, but we must be prudent. It would not do to encounter Francis, would it?'

  'May I go out today?' she tried.

  'No, I have visits to pay. Rest today and tomorrow I will show you Whitehall Palace and some of the palaces along the river. My father once had a house in the Strand.'

  'I thought you had estates in Ireland and Italy?' she asked, suddenly curious, for he had spoken of himself but the once.

  'Those are the ones I still possess, from my mother and grandmother. The English ones were forfeited when I joined the King. I hadn't Kit's foresight to convert them to gold and take it with me!'

  'I'm sorry,' Elinor said quietly.

  'I have sufficient, and prefer to live in Italy. My only regret is that I cannot use the revenues for the King's cause. Now pray excuse me, I must be off. Belinda breakfasts in bed, you should do the same in future.'

  She pursed her lips. She did not wish to inflict her company on him, she thought, but she maintained a tactful silence. If he left soon she might be able to slip from the house before Mistress Froome rose. Sir Talbot turned as he reached the door.

  'The servants have orders to prevent you from leaving the house,' he said quietly, and she stared at him in angry frustration, aware he would exact retribution if she defied him. Then she grew confused again, and her heart began to beat uncomfortably, for unexpectedly his compelling gaze seemed to contain a trace of sympathy too.

  To her relief he went, and she retreated to her room determined to outwit him. After a suitable interval she went back downstairs, noting angrily that a young footman stood in the hall. She passed him, knowing he was looking at her admiringly, and went into the dining room. He followed her and bowed deferentially.

  'Is there anything you require, Mistress?' he asked.

  'More chocolate, if that is possible. This is cold,' she replied, and when he left she watched through the crack of the door until he disappeared into the kitchen regions.

  *

  Swiftly she passed through the hall and let herself out of the door, then hurried round the nearest corner, longing to pick up her skirts and run but firmly controlling the impulse.

  Heading always downhill towards the river, she eventually recognised the wide street they had ridden down the previous day. She sighed with relief, for her rich dress and the fact that she was alone had aroused unwelcome curiosity in the meaner streets.

  Elinor had been too amazed to pay much attention to the people yesterday, but now she was aghast at glimpses of a poverty and degradation she had never imagined. Half-naked children scrabbled amongst the refuse for edible scraps of food. Most of them were little more than skeletons, their flesh marred with bruises and cuts, dried scabs and sores. Women sat in doorways or sprawled in the mud of the road, and it was some time before Elinor realised most of them were drunk, as were the men who leered at her or thrust mutilated limbs before her as they whined for alms.

  'Lorst me foot fightin' the plaguey French,' one, more loquacious than the rest, explained, and Elinor shuddered, tried to explain she had no money, and then fled from his curses and obscenities as he attempted to grasp her arm with fingerless hands.

  In the Strand it was busier, the people better dressed, and Elinor felt safer and less conspicuous. She turned eastwards towards the Tower. As she neared it she began to wonder what her real purpose was. Would Francis reject her, or would he believe her and still wish to marry her? And if he did, she must abandon all thoughts of reunion with Kit. But if he did not, could she trust herself once more to Sir Talbot, having escaped from him? His story might be totally false. But then so might Francis be false. How could she know what was true? Would it be better to return to Norfolk, facing the undoubted fury of her aunt and uncle? She then began to wonder how she could exist if, penniless, she had to walk or beg rides with carriers in order to return home. Halting in dismay, she found a young man, elegantly attired in silk stockings, a wide skirted coat and elaborate frills of lace, sweeping off his three cornered beaver hat and asking if he might be of assistance.

  'No, thank you, no!'

  Elinor gasped, and almost ran past him.

  She clenched her hands in fury as his mocking laughter pursued her, and hurried on. Soon she was footsore, the thin shoes which Matt had purchased for her being quite unsuitable for walking so many miles. Ludgate Hill was so steep, and at the top she limped thankfully into St Paul's and found a seat beneath one of the massive pillars.

  She gazed about her in awe, never having seen so vast a building, then resumed her trek through the narrow crowded streets of the ancient city, emerging thankfully into the open space before the huge, grey fortress.

  Now she had arrived she was uncertain how best to proceed. A cluster of soldiers stood before a gateway, but their raucous laughter made her hesitant to approach them. Her thoughts whirled again. Was Francis plotting against Kit? Dare she trust him? Could she risk the chance she might be the cause of Kit walking into a fatal trap?

  Suddenly desolate and frightened, she almost cried out in fear as a hand fell on her shoulder. She turned, trembling, to look into the dark furious face of Sir Talbot.

  'Are you seeking your lover?' he demanded icily. 'Do you wish to betray us all, and cause Kit's death?'

  'Francis is not my lover!' Elinor found the strength to retort, furious at the suggestion. 'I am betrothed to him!'

  Sir Talbot suddenly grinned. 'I'm not sure which I would pity more,' he said softly. 'He's a trickster but you're a shrew! He'd be welcome to you if only I hadn't promised Kit to take you to him. Come, you'll have to ride pillion.'

  Grasping her hand firmly he almost dragged her to where his horse was tethered. She had to run to keep up with his long strides.

  'I've a right to hear what he says,' she gasped. 'Why should I believe you when you give me no shred of proof for what you claim?'

  He tossed her behind the saddle, and she clung to him as he mounted, afraid of falling. 'No reason except common sense. Why the devil else should I burden myself with you, putting us all in danger? Don't imagine I have designs on your person,' he added scornfully as he set the horse to a trot. She burned with resentment at the contempt in his voice.

  She had to accept she had lost Francis, for he would never believe her whatever his own guilt or innocence, if she went to France, and she had no alternative to that now. It was an empty, lost feeling which lasted until they arrived at the house and Belinda, a seductive vision in a pale grey silk gown, came down the stairs to greet them. No wonder, with wantons like this to entertain him, she thought disdainfully, Sir Talbot could not desire her. She would have to endure his escort to Kit's home, pray he told the truth, and hope never to set eyes on him again.

  *

  Chapter 6

  'I have to see some friends, therefore you will be confined to your room,' Sir Talbot said as they returned to Belinda's house.

  He thrust Elinor before him up the stairs, and she was too astounded to respond until they reached her room. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, and caught her breath as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her arm.

  'How dare you!' she demanded, but he kicked open the door, pulled her inside, and only then released her.

  'I dare not trust you, even if you give me your word,' he said calmly. 'Our lives are at stake, and no infatuated chit is going to wreck our plans. I warned you, if you choose to ignore me that is your misfortune.'

  Elinor sank down onto the bed. 'I know not what to believe,' she said in a low voice. 'I've no cause to distrust Francis, yet if I go with you he will never forgive me!'

  'Do you love him?' Sir Talbot asked abruptly, and when she glanced at him Elinor found him subjecting her to a keen scrutiny. She frowned, concentrating.

  'I liked him, but I did not know him well, he was in London for most of the time.'

  'Then you'll take no lasting hurt, and if you do not fall in love Kit will find you a worthier husband,' he remarked crisply, and went swiftly from the room.

  Elinor stared a
fter him, and admitted he was right. Her aunt had said that she would grow to love Francis after marriage, but what was love? Was it the calm companionship of her aunt and uncle, a courteous business arrangement devoid of passion? Somehow she could not imagine they had ever loved in the wild unreasoning manner the poets described. Would she ever love Francis in such a manner? And why, she wondered in sudden confusion, had she felt so much more disturbed when Sir Talbot had kissed her, angry though he had been, than when Francis had saluted her?

  She had a sudden disturbing vision of Belinda clasped in Sir Talbot's arms, the joyous manner of her greeting, and wondered if they loved? Yet if they did were they content to endure long partings? Belinda had seemed carelessly kind, yet according to her uncle actresses were all abandoned women. Was Belinda Sir Talbot's mistress?

  There were no answers to her tormented questions, and she knew the only way of discovering her true feelings for Francis was to see him again. If she did, what possible harm could come to Kit? According to Sir Talbot his fortune was safe in France, so he need not return to secure that. And if she truly loved Francis she would be safe. Sir Talbot might not be, a small voice whispered, but she angrily reminded herself she had no reason to protect him. True, he had saved her life and cared for her when she had been ill, but if he had not abducted her she would never have been in danger.

  Worn out she fell asleep, merely to dream of being clasped in Sir Talbot's arms. Waking when her shoulder was shaken, she opened her eyes to find him looking down at her, and took refuge from the recollection of her unruly dreams in anger.

  *

  'How long am I to be kept a prisoner?' she demanded.

  'So long as you cannot be trusted,' he replied smoothly. 'I have brought your supper. You will accompany me to Vauxhall Gardens tomorrow evening, as part of my disguise, and you can see something of London from the river as you wished.'

  'I do not understand,' Elinor protested. 'How can my being with you be a disguise?'

  'I have to meet someone, and two people attract less notice than I would alone. If all goes well we can soon be on our way to France. Sleep well,' he added mockingly as he departed, locking the door behind him.

  The night was long and the following day more so. Elinor saw only an elderly maid who brought her food. When Sir Talbot came again Belinda was with him.

  'Come, Elinor,' she said briskly, and led the way into her room. Elinor, bemused, saw the walls were hung with pale green silk, and the huge bed had gauzy white hangings heavily embroidered with the same shade of green. Then Belinda was thrusting into her hands a gown of cream damask, embroidered in blue and gold, with froths of delicate lace at the low neckline.

  'Talbot asked me to find you something for evening wear,' she said.

  'For me?' Elinor asked in surprise.

  'Yes, for I know you lost everything in the shipwreck. I hope you like the colours, and that it fits. My dressmaker had it ready for some foolish creature who lost too much at cards and could not afford it when it was made. Here, slip it over your head and let me lace it for you. I have a shawl that will go with it beautifully.'

  'The neck is too low,' Elinor protested as she stood before a silver-framed dressing-glass.

  'Fustian! You don't want to seem a dowdy country cousin, do you?' Belinda asked.

  She bustled about, found Elinor a shawl, also a slender painted fan and a lace-edged black mask. She hurried Elinor downstairs to where Sir Talbot waited and smilingly bade them farewell. When they were in the boat Elinor gazed in awe at the crowded river.

  'I thought Norwich was busy,' she said in surprise. 'Here it is as crowded as in the streets.'

  'The Thames is still the most convenient way of travelling through London,' Sir Talbot said with a smile. 'Since the great fire many of the streets have been widened, but the number of carts and carriages has increased to fill them.'

  His coldness of the previous day had gone, and he was pointing out to her the fine houses lining the shore and telling her about the families who had built them. When she exclaimed at the forest of masts in the distance he promised to take her to see London Bridge and the ships in the Pool another day. To her chagrin Elinor realised she was actually looking forward to such an expedition.

  *

  They crossed the river and entered the pleasure gardens. For some time they strolled about the paths, illuminated with hundreds of lights, and Elinor found it remarkably easy to talk with Sir Talbot. Later she realised she had been induced to tell him a great deal about her life, while learning almost nothing of his.

  'Where is your friend?' Elinor asked after a while. Sir Talbot glanced down at her, amused.

  'Are you tired, or bored with my company?'

  'I merely wondered why we must promenade so long,' she returned sharply.

  'It would hardly do not to play out the masquerade, for fear we are being watched. But let us go along this path.'

  He turned off into a narrower, ill-lit path, lined with bushes which screened them from the view of the rest of the gardens. A few other people were also strolling along the path and at the far end Elinor could see a small pavilion. About half way along they turned into a similar path, but as they rounded the corner a tall, fair haired man who was walking along deep in conversation with an older woman almost collided with Sir Talbot.

  'Dear sir, I beg your pardon,' he exclaimed, and the woman gave a startled gasp and let fall a small reticule. The man and Sir Talbot both bent to retrieve it, hesitated, laughed, and the tall stranger finally picked it up.

  'My apologies, I should have been paying more attention,' he said, smiling at Elinor, and then passed by.

  Five minutes later Sir Talbot led the way to a table set in a secluded spot and ordered supper. They watched the glittering, lively scene. All sorts of people were there, fashionable men and women and roughly attired artisans, and many gaudily dressed women who ogled the men shamelessly.

  She was so fascinated watching them all she paid no attention to the other people seated nearby until there was a light touch on her arm.

  'We met earlier,' a woman's soft voice said, and she turned to find the woman who had dropped the reticule sitting at the next table with her fair companion. 'The Gardens are busy tonight, are they not?'

  She chattered on, commenting on the scene and the people, while her companion drew his chair near to Sir Talbot's and the men exchanged a few remarks. Once Elinor caught a few words, but they were in a gutteral language she did not understand. She cast a puzzled look at Sir Talbot, but the woman claimed her attention again, laughing at a man with an extremely pinched-in waist, and she could not hear the men's conversation.

  Soon the other couple departed, and Sir Talbot suggested that they walked once more.

  'Were they the people you came to meet?' Elinor demanded.

  'Hush, not so loud,' he cautioned.

  'Why all the elaborate secrecy?' she asked more quietly, but he tucked her arm through his and began to talk of other things.

  By the time they left Elinor was wavering between curiosity and indignation, but she refrained from asking more questions as they went home until, having led the way into the parlour, Sir Talbot poured them both glasses of wine.

  'What was that all about?' she asked.

  'You may think us overcautious,' he murmured, 'but we know how vital it is to conceal our meetings. The man is from the Swedish Legation and we are hoping they will assist us. He gave me a letter, and I have only to wait for Robert's return with his information and we can start for France.'

  'How – how soon will that be?' Elinor asked apprehensively, for she was still undecided about trying to contact Francis, and time was getting short.

  'A day or so, no longer. But I will try to show you more of London while we are here. Shall we go and see the Bridge tomorrow?'

  'It would be better than being shut into my room!' she responded ungraciously, repressing the thought of how enjoyable his company was. He was knowledgeable and entertaining, she told h
erself quickly, that was all, and went to bed to lie wondering how she was to make her bid to see Francis.

  *

  They took a boat the following day, the better to see the many splendid buildings overlooking the river. It was only when they approached the Bridge, and Elinor saw the turbulent water churning through the narrow arches, that she realised what a hazardous undertaking it was to navigate it.

  'They do it all the time with but few accidents,' Sir Talbot said reassuringly. 'I've no intention of flinging you into the water again.'

  Elinor, gritting her teeth, tried to ignore the swirling water by concentrating on the massive structure above, but the houses on the bridge, appearing to be supported by almost nothing, were almost as terrifying as the water, and when a particularly violent movement of the boat flung her against Sir Talbot she clung to him, shaking uncontrollably. He slipped his arm about her waist and spoke softly, as though he were gentling a nervous horse.

  'You'll be quite safe,' he promised. 'We're almost through, the water is calmer now. See what a magnificent view there is of the Tower and the ships. They come here from all over the world.'

  Elinor, ashamed of her sudden weakness, smiled tremblingly and tried to forget the past few minutes. The ships, hundreds of them, with enormously tall masts and complicated rigging, seemed fantastic seen from the small boat low on the water. She forced herself to think only of them, and did not realise Sir Talbot had left his arm around her until she turned to him with a comment, and found her face only a few inches away from his.

  'Feeling safe?' he asked, releasing her, and she nodded, her colour high, and forgot what she had intended to say.

  Furious with herself she turned away. How weak it was, she thought, to be unable to control the apprehension she always felt when near him. Even when he took her arm she shivered, and when she was pressed close to him she felt breathless, her heart thumping loudly. He did not appear to notice, for he was talking about the cargoes.

  'There is a wonderful variety, sugar, rice and tobacco from the New World, silk, tea and spices from the east. We get timber, furs and hides, fruit and wine from nearer countries.'

  'I had not thought there could be so much. What do we send in exchange?'

  'A lot of this goes further, to other countries without their own ships. We produce wool, and woven cloth. You will see the French ports are not nearly so busy.'