There was quiet below. The trap door with two crates upon it would not let shouts through but hammering had been plain enough before. John might be prowling about to see if there was any other way out. He had a lantern there. That was something, and not all the liquor had been brought up. He could knock the head off a bottle and drink himself into insensibility.
Will Smyth was speaking and he hadn’t been listening.
“My lord,” he repeated urgently, “can we do anything to foil the plot? What information have you there?”
“Not much, but I will do nothing to incriminate John Horden. That is why I have kept him out of this. If rebels are taken they are like to hang.”
Will Smyth shook his head. “It was a bad day when you ever got involved with this family, my lord.”
“You will not say that, Will, or you’ll no longer be in my service.”
“My lord, I beg your pardon.”
Frederick could say nothing more. He was overcome with horror at what he had done and fear of the consequences. Sir Daniel, Lady Eunice, the old Grandmother Bel, what would they say? Would anyone be in a fit state to hold a wedding in three days’ time? Would they banish him from Deborah for ever? He sipped the brandy as if it could stifle his dread. At the same time the thought drummed in his head: it would be a poor introduction to society if my brother-in-law was hanged as a rebel.
Will tapped his shoulder. “I see Mistress Deborah and her father approaching by the path.”
Frederick swung round and there they were almost at the door which had stood open all this while.
He got to his feet and clutched at the back of the chair as a wave of dizziness struck him. She was into the room and threading her way between the crates.
“Frederick! Are you hurt? What did John do to you?”
“It’s nothing,” he gulped out. “I am devastated. That is all.”
She looked at the crates over the trap door. “He is in there? What is he doing? Oh poor wretched boy!”
Sir Daniel was looking round at the three idle men. “These crates are to go to the Hall. The cart is being brought round by the road. Get them outside ready to load.”
Peter and Joseph leapt to the task.
Will Smyth, evidently feeling the work was beneath him, addressed Sir Daniel warily. “Sir, my lord has some information which might help to foil a rebellion against our lawful Queen. Can I be of service in communicating it to the authorities?”
Frederick snapped at him before Sir Daniel could reply, “That is a matter for Sir Daniel to consider when I have had a chance to speak of it with him. Pray find some other work.”
Deborah said, “The tailor is waiting in our library. Perhaps you, Mr Smyth, could inform him that there will be a delay and if he wishes for some refreshment you could give orders for it from our kitchen.”
The sound of ‘giving orders’ seemed to please Will and Frederick saw him bow and take his departure, if a little unwillingly.
There came some banging again from below. John must have found something heavy with which to strike the trap door.
Frederick bit at his lower lip. “You cannot tell how bad I feel about this, Sir Daniel. I acted without time to think. I am truly sorry. Shall I let him out?”
“Certainly not. Where can we go to speak of all this?”
Frederick drew a long breath of relief. He was not in total disgrace. “There is my room in the wing, sir, but might not Matt return and release his master?”
“Matt is in disgrace and locked in his room above the stables.”
Joseph and Peter were in and out carrying the crates. “Leave those two there,” Sir Daniel said, pointing to the two on the trap door. “They can go later. Make sure they are not moved.” He led the way from the kitchen and Frederick still not quite sure of Deborah’s view of his action ushered her ahead of him.
As they all three turned aside to the door that led from the hallway into the wing, Jeanetta came tripping down the main staircase in the gown she was to wear for the wedding.
“Has John not come back yet from the tailor? I wanted to show him how I will look.”
Frederick was struck with her beauty. Her colour was high and her black hair charmingly coiled up with golden ribbons. The lowcut dress was a pale gold over a white petticoat spangled with embroidered roses in gold thread. She carried her fan in her whitegloved hands. Diamonds glinted on her white bosom.
What a horrible shame to have to upset so lovely a picture, he thought.
He looked at Deborah, his eyes asking, will you break it to her?
She obviously wanted to go with him and her father but she nodded and took Jeanetta’s arm. “I’ll come back up with you, Netta. John will be a little longer.”
Frederick watched them go. His bride was still in her working dress, her fair hair tumbled about. She must have been about to try her wedding gown when her father called her to come. Beside Jeanetta’s immaculate figure she looked a sad sight.
He followed Sir Daniel and waved him to the comfortable chair by the window in his room. The sunlight had set the tiny leaf buds sparkling in the wood. He sat on the stool by his bed and looked at them and wished time could go back to the early morning so the day could start afresh.
“I need to know exactly how this thing began,” Sir Daniel said. “All I got from Matt was that you had shut up his master in the dungeon to prevent him serving his true king. I had no idea that John was mixed up in this cause nor that he had infected Matt who was always easily led. I should have listened to Deborah who has had her suspicions for a long time.”
Frederick with great thankfulness uncovered everything from the encounters with Edouard le Vent to the carrot-haired boy he had sent with two messages.
“And John knocked you down to get at his letter. I am ashamed of my son.”
“Nay, he was desperate, sir. The letter was rightly his though it bore no name. I knew it was his and opened it without his permission.” He showed Sir Daniel the scrap he had retained. “I had only the quickest glance at the whole thing but the word ‘measles’ caught my eye. I wondered if a delay had occurred in France because young James Stuart caught measles. Some French ships must be at sea now. Le Vent seemed to be telling John there was still time for him to take part. The meeting place is to be at the F of F, whatever that means.”
“The Firth of Forth I’ll wager. French ships would not venture to put in at an English port. John and Matt could have ridden there in less than three days if they changed mounts often enough. But it would take us as long to send a warning message and doubtless the force will have landed by then. I warrant our navy will have been shadowing them too. It will all be general knowledge now.”
“In all honesty sir, do you think they will have any success?”
Sir Daniel shook his head. “I know not what government forces are in the area but I think James’ main support is in the Highlands. Deborah was telling me coming along that she is sure John was trying to raise our county last summer. It’s true there are Catholics a-plenty in northNorthumberland but who wants more turmoil after the wars we’ve seen?”
“Excuse me, sir, but the young men do. They have grown up in comparative peace and want action.”
Sir Daniel arose and ran his hand through his cropped flaxen hair. Frederick realised he had not put on his wig. He too must have left in a mighty hurry.
“I’m afraid you are right, Frederick.”He had risen too and to his delight Sir Daniel from his great height grasped him by the shoulders and exclaimed, “Thank God you did what you did. John would have been twenty miles up the Great North Road by now. I believe you have saved our house from terrible danger.” He dropped his hands and exclaimed, “I forget, those poor horses are waiting saddled still. May I use one of your men to stable them again? There are only women servants here and they must be with poor Jeanetta. ”
“Indeed, sir. I will tell Joseph. He is not so strong for humping crates about but he can manage horses.”
“And now
, somehow I must talk to my wayward boy without letting him give me the slip.” Sir Daniel shook his head sadly and hurried ahead of him downstairs.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Deborah had not fared so smoothly with Jeanetta.
“John has not seen the tailor yet,” she told her, “and he can’t
come and look at your dress. At this moment he is being
prevented from ruining himself and his family.”
“Ruining? What are you talking about, Deb?”
“Did you know he was mixed up with the Jacobite movement?” Jeanetta’s head jerked up. “What! Well yes, of course I did.” “You supported him in it?”
“Why not? It was to make his fortune. When James is king he
could be made an earl like your funny little Frederick. He’s taller
and handsomer and will deserve it for his work for the king.” She
flapped her fan vigorously and sat down abruptly on her bed.
“What do you mean ‘he’s being prevented’? How did you find out
about the plot? What’s happened? Has his call come and he
didn’t tell me? I know he wanted me to ride with him at first but
that horrid le Vent wouldn’t have it.”
“Oh Netta, you met le Vent too! You – a mother of two lovely
children – yet you wouldn’t dissuade him from so mad an
enterprise?”
“What have the children to do with it? And who says it’s mad?
Le Vent thinks it has every chance of success. The Scots will rise
and an army will take the English coalfields and that will make
London give way.”
She flung down her fan and sprang at Deborah ignoring her
beautiful dress.
“Tell me what you have done to him. Prevented him? How?” “He’s in the dungeon below this house.” Deborah had to put up
her hands to stop Jeanetta tearing her face with her nails. She
gripped her wrists and held her firmly. Jeanetta glared up at her,
her eyes like black daggers.
“You mean they are all riding to the muster and he will be left
behind. It will kill him. He will die of fury and frustration. How
dare you? Who put him there? He would fight them to the death,
my John.”
“He fell in himself so my Frederick closed the trapdoor.” “Hateful Frederick! My poor darling! He will go mad in there.” “And he will thank us all for saving him from disaster.” Still
gripping her wrists she forced Jeanetta’s compact little form back
onto the bed. “Horden is John’s inheritance and you speak lightly
of the Scots overrunning it and seizing the coal workings. Last time
the Scots took Horden Hall Grandmother Bel was cast out into
the snow with nothing. For the love of God, have you and John
gone mad? England is at peace again and can prosper now. No,
England and Scotland together, one nation, Britain. Together we
can prosper in friendship as Christian peoples should. Do we want
the clash of arms again and blood spilt in our fields? Do we,
Jeanetta? Is that what you want for John, wounds or death and
your children left fatherless?”
Jeanetta was whimpering now. “I only know he wanted so much
to ride into battle again and do great deeds and win honour and
glory. He wanted to show you all what he can do.”
“Was that it? Well, we will revere him much more if he cares for
his land and his tenants and brings up his children in the fear of
God.”
“But he will be so ashamed if he has missed it all, if someone
else gets all the glory. He will be wretched. He’ll be quite
impossible to live with and he’s so much more fun when he’s
happy.”
“He would be more wretched dangling on the end of a rope.
Don’t you know that’s what happens to traitors and rebels?” “Deborah, you’ll eat your words if James is made king. And if
John has no part in it he’ll kill himself for shame.”
In her heart Deborah was weeping for them both. Jeanetta was
a poor thing and selfish but she loved John and only dimly
understood the world. But John’s ambition was so sad. He had
tasted battle when he was thirteen and remembered the excitement
more than the suffering. Was she herself to blame because he still
hankered after glory? Oh she must tell him what she had just been
telling Jeanetta. Surely he would see sense.
She released Jeanetta’s hands and stood to her full height. “If
yousupport him – whatever the outcome – he will come through
this without shame. It is yourlove and admiration that will help
him over his disappointment. But disappointed he will be because
Father will not let him go and join the rebels even if he has to keep
him locked in there during our wedding.”
“Oh Deb, he wouldn’t do that! John has a fine new suit and I
must wear my dress. Do you think I could go to the festivities if he
was locked away?”
“We’ll go downstairs and see what father has decided? Where
are the babies? They are very quiet.”
“Oh the two nurses have them. That big attic room is the
nursery. Jean makes noise enough when he toddles about up there.
He usually has an afternoon sleep. Is it afternoon?”
“No, it is not yet dinner time. Should you not change out of
that dress? It is too fine for the kitchen.”
Jeanetta shouted for Maria who appeared from the adjoining
dressing-room where she and the Grange cook-maid and scullerymaid must be hiding, Deborah realised. She supposed they had
been invited to see Jeanetta dressed. No doubt they had heard
every word.
“Come down when you’re ready, Jeanetta. I’ll see what’s
happening.” She added to herself, God knows I would hate to be
shut up in that place.
She ran downstairs and found her father sitting on a chair by
the trap door which was open a crack. Frederick was outside. She
could hear his voice as he gave Joseph orders about the horses. She heard John’s voice. “Father, you have to let me out. I can’t
bear this. The oil lamp has failed and it’s pitch dark.”
“I am giving you a taste of what you would have suffered if you
had been taken prisoner in this mad escapade. It would have been
the Tower till they decided whether you deserved to hang. A night
or two in the cellar of your own house is nothing compared with
that.”
“A night or two! You would not do that to me.”
“I can’t trust you not to break out and ride to join the rebels. If
you could punch your brother-in-law for trying to stop you how do
I know what you will do next? The longer I can keep you under
restraint the safer we will all feel. If you know you will come too
late there will be no point in your going.”
“You cannot keep me here for ever. When they march south I
will join them. Do you want me shamed before all those who made
their pledges at my request?”
“That was what you were doing last summer then? And in
France? Does it never occur to you that you have lost my trust for
ever? That my own son could tell so many lies – do you not think
how that has wounded me?”
Deborah sat down on another of the kitchen chairs. She wanted
to join in, but her father was speaking her own thou
ghts. She could
hear the crack in his voice which showed how cruelly he was
tormented by what had been revealed.
John had heard it too. He shouted up, “ Youwounded? And
what is my own father doing to me? Keeping me from my sworn
duty, making me betray my comrades! And what about my sister
and her man, seizing my letters so that I cannot reply, cannot fulfil
my pledges, making me out a coward to all the world. I can never
trust heragain”
He seized some implement he had found and crashed it
against the walls and ceiling of his prison. Then he burst out in a
passion of tears, “Mother of God, I can never live this down. I will
be branded as a traitor to my king and my faith for ever.” Deborah’s heart was wrenched. “John,” she cried out. “I hear
what you are saying and I feel for you deeply. I am sorry I had to
do what I’ve done but it was to save you from a terrible mistake.
And don’t blame Frederick. He was uneasy about intercepting your
messages but I told him we must. You would have gone away on a
wild goose chase and I wanted you so much to be at our wedding.
To think you didn’t care – my own brother –”
“No, Deb,” her father broke in, “that is not the point. He
believed in a cause that was bigger than a mere ceremony.” “I did, I do,” John cried. “James Stuart is our true king under
God. How can it be denied by anyone? He is the direct line, the
divinely appointed. When Anne dies they are going to bring in a
Prue Phillipson - Hordens of Horden Hall Page 25
