Lords of Misrule (Roundheads & Cavaliers Book 4)

by Stella Riley

  ‘Not you as well,’ muttered Lydia. ‘Why is everybody making so much of this? It was just a moment of spite – probably from a couple of men we refused to employ. It doesn’t mean they’re actually going to do anything.’

  ‘We’ll damned well make sure they won’t get a chance. From now on, I’ll be walking to Duck Lane with you.’

  ‘You certainly will not!’ she said, completely aghast. ‘If you do that, Margaret will want to know why – and I’m having enough trouble with the family as it is.’

  ‘Would you rather find yourself being dragged into some alley with a knife at your throat?’

  ‘I’d rather you stopped being hysterical. Nothing is going to happen – and I don’t need an armed guard.’

  ‘According to my one-eyed friend, that’s not what this Colonel of his thinks.’

  ‘Oh – him.’ Lydia sniffed disparagingly. ‘He shouldn’t even have been there – never mind giving out orders as if I was one of his blasted troopers.’

  ‘Why was he there?’

  ‘He found out that some of his old comrades worked at the lorinery and decided to pay them a visit. When I walked in they were all merrily reminiscing about the good old days at some battle or other. I put a stop to it, of course – but I don’t suppose Colonel Maxwell is accustomed to having women lay down the law to him.’

  ‘Who?’ Aubrey’s nerves snarled into a painful tangle. ‘Colonel who?’

  ‘Maxwell. Why --?’ She stopped abruptly as his expression of utter horror made the question unnecessary. ‘Oh. Is he the one … was it him who had you arrested?’

  He felt sick but knew that denial was pointless now.

  ‘Yes. Did he say anything about that?’

  ‘Not a word.’ Her eyes darkened with sudden anger. ‘But it’s why he came, isn’t it? Dropping in for a chat with his men was just an excuse. He knows I’m your sister and decided to find out if the lorinery is just a smokescreen for – well, for God knows what.’ She paused and drew an uneven breath. ‘The devious bastard!’

  Aubrey managed a feeble smile, trying to take comfort from the fact that Maxwell had neither questioned Lydia about her conversation with Gerard and Brandon nor revealed that the three of them had been followed that night.

  ‘Steady on, Lyd. It might not have been that at all. I mean … if he didn’t say anything about me or ask you any questions, it might have been a coincidence.’

  ‘Rubbish! He came to poke and pry but he wanted to be discreet about it. And when I think about how concerned he was regarding my safety, I could spit. As for you …’ Lydia paused again, impaling her brother on a fulminating stare, ‘As for you, it’s your fault he decided it might be worth taking an interest in me. If you’d never brought yourself to his attention, he wouldn’t have known I exist.’

  ‘No. And I’ve said I’m sorry. But it doesn’t seem that there’s any harm done. After all, he’s hardly likely to make visiting the lorinery a habit.’

  ‘He’d better not – though I can think of a few things I’d like to say to him.’

  ‘I daresay. But hopefully you wouldn’t be stupid enough to actually say them,’ said Aubrey, realising that, if she subjected the Colonel to a verbal attack, all manner of things might come out. ‘And right now, this is beside the point. The important thing is that you’ve been threatened with violence and will need to be more careful – at least for a while. So as I said, I’ll be escorting you to --’

  ‘And as I said – you won’t.’ She met his eyes with a look as stubborn as his own. Then, realising that he’d argue until Doomsday if necessary, she said crossly, ‘All right. I’ll take Tam with me for the next couple of days.’

  ‘Tam? What good do you think he’ll be? Oh – he’d do his best, I grant you. But he’s sixty years old and half crippled with rheumatism.’

  Lydia tilted her head. ‘Fine. Then I’ll take Nancy.’

  ‘Now you’re being ridiculous.’

  ‘Not at all. Nancy never leaves the house without a weapon.’

  Aubrey folded his arms, clearly unimpressed. ‘What sort of weapon?’

  ‘It varies,’ said Lydia firmly, preferring not to admit that it was either a meat mallet or a pair of scissors. Then, ‘Be honest. Would you want to get on the wrong side of Nancy?’

  He thought about it and then gave a reluctant laugh.

  ‘Not if I could avoid it. I’ve seen her when her blood is up.’

  ~ * * ~ * * ~

  SIX

  ‘You mean,’ said Nicholas slowly, ‘that you recently had her brother arrested and brought in for questioning – and you didn’t think it worth mentioning?’

  It was later that evening and he, Eden and Tobias were relaxing over a glass or two and a deck of cards

  ‘Mention it to whom? Mistress Neville? Absolutely not.’

  ‘But --’

  ‘Damn, Nick – he oughtn’t to be mentioning it to us, never mind the fellow’s sister,’ objected Tobias. ‘He doesn’t normally tell us anything at all.’

  ‘And normally there’s a very good reason for that,’ Eden said. ‘In this case, however – aside from trusting your discretion – there was nothing to the entire affair. Just empty talk over a few tankards of ale.’

  ‘And Mistress Neville?’ asked Nicholas, a shade disapprovingly.

  ‘Is unlikely to know anything of the matter at all – which is how her brother would doubtless prefer it to stay.’ Eden turned an oblique and faintly mischievous look on the younger man and said, ‘I’m aware that you’re very taken with her, Nick, but --’

  ‘It’s nothing of the sort! It’s just that, when you consider what she’s trying to do in that place, it seemed wrong to deliberately deceive her. But … well, I suppose you may have a point.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘My trick,’ observed Tobias, laying down his cards and reaching for the stack. Then, ‘This note said they’d ‘get’ her. Clearly it’s a threat … but a serious one?’

  ‘I doubt it. I suspect the lady was right to dismiss it as a random act of spite. Her foreman told me there had been a couple of fellows in demanding work and refusing to accept that they weren’t going to get it. What happened today was probably them registering their disapproval. But it doesn’t hurt to take the odd precaution.’ He looked at his cards and then across at his brother. ‘Is dealing me the worst possible hand just my bad luck – or has somebody taught you to fuzz the deck?’

  Tobias grinned. ‘Look on the bright side. Don’t they say ‘Lucky at cards, unlucky in love’? So presumably it works the other way as well.’

  ‘Not that I’ve noticed.’ Eden played his only decent card. Then, because he had no intention of being drawn into a discussion about Deborah, he said, ‘I spoke to Lambert again yesterday.’

  ‘And?’ asked Nicholas, most of his mind on the game.

  ‘And he said this business in Scotland might be a chance to prise me out of Thurloe’s clutches.’

  ‘Scotland?’ echoed Nicholas. ‘My God. If you think that will be an improvement on your current situation, you must be desperate.’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘I had the impression,’ remarked Tobias, ‘that the Scottish rising was about as serious as the brick through the lorinery window – that is to say, not very.’

  ‘That was true last summer when it first began but is less so now. The Earl of Glencairn has drawn a surprising number of powerful lairds to his side; Huntly, MacDonald of Glengarry, Seaforth – even Argyll’s heir. And for months now, Rob Lilburne has been trying to make Cromwell understand that, without reinforcements and essential supplies, he can’t keep the lowlands garrisoned and also go chasing Glencairn through the mountains.’ Eden paused and reached for his wine. ‘By the turn of the year, it had got so bad he wrote asking the Council to send General Monck to replace him.’

  ‘And will they?’

  ‘Lambert thinks it likely. Certainly, he’s personally in favour of it. With the Dutch War finally over – not that they’ve
agreed the terms of the peace yet – Monck is no longer needed at sea and he’s a damned fine field commander. And recently we had a report that Major-General Middleton has arrived to take over charge of the Royalist forces from Glencairn.’ He glanced at Nicholas. ‘I never came up against Middleton – but the general opinion seems to be that, like Monck, he knows what he’s doing.’

  ‘He does,’ said Nicholas shortly.

  ‘In that case, it’s a pity he doesn’t have a modicum of tact. He’s apparently made Sir George Munro his second-in-command rather than Glencairn – which resulted in the two of them fighting a duel. Monro was wounded and Glencairn’s gone off in a huff.’

  Nicholas was tempted to ask if Eden also knew what any of the men he’d mentioned ate for breakfast … but settled for saying, ‘A pity for the Scots Royalists – but nice for you.’

  There was silence for a few moments, then Eden said mildly, ‘I appreciate that this isn’t easy for you, Nick. But a rising in the highlands isn’t going to put the Charles Stuart back on the throne. It’s not even going to conquer the whole of Scotland.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘You know … but you still hope.’

  ‘You’re saying I shouldn’t?’ Nicholas reached for his glass and drained it. ‘Don’t think I don’t appreciate what you did for the King last year. Nobody knows better than I do that you bear him no animosity. But there are others who do.’

  ‘I’m aware. What are you trying to say?’

  ‘That he’s not his father. And that there are a lot of people these days – and I don’t mean only the Royalists – who’d prefer him to Oliver Cromwell.’

  ‘Are we going to finish this game?’ asked Tobias. He had never heard Eden and Nicholas argue about their diverse allegiances before but recognised that there was a first time for everything.

  ‘Presently,’ said Eden. ‘I’m aware of that too, Nick. Sam Radford and his Leveller friends to name but a few. But without a national upheaval in the King’s favour, it’s never going to be enough. And there’s been too much blood shed over this already.’

  ‘Yet you’ll still go to Scotland and help shed some more?’

  ‘If I’m asked. To be honest, I’ll go anywhere that gets me out of Thurloe’s office. But that’s not what this is about, is it? You’re finding it hard to hear of others doing what they can for the Cause but not being part of it yourself – and you’re starting to feel that your days are empty of purpose. I understand that. But what you need to remember is that, during the two years you’ve been living in this house, no one outside it has been made aware of either your religion or your loyalties.’ Eden paused and then said, ‘If that should change, your presence here could become … problematic.’

  ‘I know that. And do you honestly think I’d do anything that might compromise either you or Toby?’

  ‘No. What I think is that, if you got wind of some conspiracy that sounded likely to succeed, you might decide to vanish in order to join it.’

  Nicholas coloured slightly but said nothing.

  Silence stretched out for several moments until Tobias said bluntly, ‘Is he right, Nick? Might you do that?’

  ‘Perhaps. I won’t deny that the idea has occurred to me.’

  ‘Then you’re a bloody idiot!’

  ‘I knew you’d say that,’ sighed Nicholas. And to Eden, ‘I suppose you think the same?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ came the flat reply. ‘But you’ll be a bloody idiot if you let yourself get tangled up with John Gerard and Ellis Brandon. Everything I hear from Paris says that the whole Gerard faction are apt to throw themselves into any scheme, no matter how stupid or reckless. And Brandon’s a braggart whose only talent is disappearing – while his loose mouth and general carelessness gets the rest of his friends arrested.’ He paused. ‘I should add that Thurloe is releasing him for just that reason.’

  * * *

  Down in the kitchen, Deborah was engaged in transferring a new batch of sweet chutney from the pan to numerous small earthenware pots when she heard Eden’s footsteps on the stairs. In the space of a heartbeat, the gnawing ache which had been simmering inside her for days became a piercing pain. It was time to keep her promise and do what she had always known would one day become necessary. It was time to make it easy for him.

  Just for a second, her own sense of desolation threatened to choke her. Then, summoning sufficient power to master it, she sent him a fleeting smile and, restoring her attention to the task in hand, said lightly, ‘Has Toby emptied your pockets?’

  ‘Almost.’ Eden sat down on the far side of the table and watched her methodically spooning chutney into pots. ‘That smells good.’

  She glanced at him again, seeing doubts and confusion hovering about him like a muddy cloud. And something else; something new. She said, ‘What has happened?’

  As always, a small tremor of shock rippled through him. And, as always, he refrained from asking how she knew.

  ‘There is a possibility … and at present it’s only that … of my being sent to Scotland.’

  ‘Ah.’ Having filled the pots, she reached for the neat squares of linen with which to cover them. ‘Soldiering?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good. It’s what you’ve wanted, isn’t it?’ She tied string round the first pot. ‘How soon would you have to leave?’

  ‘Not for a while yet. A couple of months, probably.’

  So soon? Only a few short weeks … a mere handful of precious days before I have to let you go and the world becomes a desert.

  Somehow she managed to smile at him and, as if it was the easiest thing in the world, say, ‘I’m pleased for you.’

  ‘You are?’ he asked, surprised and a little cautious.

  ‘Oh – for heaven’s sake, Eden! Of course I am. You haven’t been happy for a long time and this is just what you need. Also, I’ve some news of my own … or I think I may have soon.’ She continued covering her pots so that she wouldn’t have to look at him. ‘I heeded your suggestion and furthered my acquaintance with Mr Fisher and Mr Brent.’

  Without warning, something cold and hard twisted in his chest.

  ‘The vintner and the vegetable man?’

  ‘Yes. It turns out that they are both … interested.’

  ‘That doesn’t surprise me. You are a remarkable woman.’

  ‘No. But thank you for saying it.’ She tied off another pot. ‘I suspect that Mr Brent – the vegetable man – is looking for something rather less permanent than marriage. But --’

  Instantly, the odd sensation turned into a flare of anger.

  ‘Has he importuned you in any way?’

  Deborah heard the protectiveness behind the anger and wanted to cry.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you sure? If he has --’

  ‘He hasn’t. And you know I can take care of myself in that way.’

  Yes. But you shouldn’t have to.

  Eden forced himself to let it go. ‘What of the other fellow?’

  ‘Mr Fisher? He’s another matter. He’s a widower with two young children and has made it clear that he’s looking for a wife.’ She managed to inject a note of satisfaction into her tone as she added, ‘He’s also made it clear that he finds me … appealing. He hasn’t asked yet but I believe he will do so if he has hopes of a favourable reply.’

  His throat felt tight. ‘And has he?’

  ‘Yes. I’d be foolish to turn him down, wouldn’t I?’

  ‘I don’t know. Do you like him?’

  ‘Yes. He’s a little younger than you and by no means ill-looking. He’s kind and well-mannered. He has a pleasant house across the river in Southwark and owns a thriving business. What more could I hope for?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I shouldn’t mind. I’ve no right to mind. It’s for the best. I know that. I just never expected to feel like this when it happened. ‘Can I meet him?’

  Deborah’s hands stilled and she looked up.

  ‘He knows a lot less about me than he thin
ks he does. He thinks I’m a respectable widow and that you employ me as your housekeeper. Nothing more.’

  ‘And he’ll hear nothing more from me,’ said Eden, more sharply than he’d intended. ‘I won’t spoil anything. I just … I’d just like to be satisfied that he’s what he seems.’ He hesitated and then said, ‘I know it’s your decision – that you must do what you see fit. But I find I can’t let you go without being sure you’ll be all right. So may I meet him? Please?’

  Everything inside her was crumbling but somehow she found the strength to smile and say, ‘I can hardly refuse, can I? But you must promise not to intimidate the poor man.’

  ‘I would hope he won’t let me. And he’s likely to have more trouble with Toby.’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head and her voice was suddenly very firm. ‘You are not going to involve Toby.’

  ‘Yes, I am. And Nick – who hasn’t forgotten that you saved his life. My dear, your Mr Fisher is going to understand that there are three men who will defend you to the hilt, should the need ever arise.’ He took her hand and kissed it. ‘I’m sorry it couldn’t be me, Deborah. But I can’t contemplate marriage … and you deserve more than I have to give.’

  I never wanted more. I only ever wanted you. I still do. But I’ve always known it couldn’t happen. I wish I didn’t. If I didn’t know what lies ahead for you, do you think I’d give you up?

  Her eyes darkened, as she saw again that hazy vision of an inevitable future.

  ‘I know you still choose not to believe it … but you will marry again.’

  ‘So you’ve always maintained.’

  ‘You think it merely a feeling I have? It isn’t.’

  ‘I prefer not to know what it is,’ he replied truthfully. The idea that you can predict the future or that you really are what they said you were in that Worcester courtroom has never ceased making me nervous. Then, putting the thought aside and, trying for a note of humour, he said, ‘But I don’t see how I’m ever to meet this mythical bride you say is out there waiting for me. The only women I ever meet are the ones I trip over downstairs, drooling over Toby. And God forbid I should ever think of marrying one of those – even supposing she should tear her eyes away from my brother long enough to notice me. If there really is a fate worse than death, I think that would be it.’