by Stella Riley
An hour later, hot and decidedly grubby, he opened the parlour door and stopped as if he had walked into a wall.
‘Life is full of small surprises, isn’t it?’ asked Kate sympathetically. ‘As you can see, I sent Toby and the others on without me. And since they’re now well on their way to Oxford and I’ve quarrelled so successfully with Amy that she’s told me never to darken her door again, you’re left with a choice between taking me with you or leaving me to follow on my own.’ She paused and directed a sweetly-confident smile into her love’s eyes. ‘But one thing is quite certain. Come hell or high water, I intend to be with you. And there is nothing – absolutely nothing – that you can do to stop me.’
~ * * ~ * * ~
EIGHT
While Sir Thomas Fairfax laid siege to Bristol, Kate sat in the window of a small country inn some seven miles further east and made repairs to one of her husband’s shirts. It was September 9th and they had been there for over a week while Luciano kept a weather eye on events and waited to see if Rupert would defend the city more successfully than Nathaniel Fiennes had done – or whether the might of the New Model would prove too great to withstand. But whatever the outcome, he himself would make no attempt to close in on Cyrus Winter until a more suitable and less public opportunity presented itself; and Kate was heartily glad of it.
She was glad of other things, too. Once he had come to terms both with her unshakeable determination to travel with him and the fact that she had left him with no alternative but to let her do so, Luciano had finally and removed all his previous embargos and allowed her to take her place as his wife. The result was that the last twelve, precious days since leaving London had been the most perfect she had known for a long time. By day, while Luciano and Selim went out and about in various guises seeking information, she occupied her time with the small things which had suddenly regained their meaning and stayed close to the inn, as ordered. And by night, she lay in Luciano’s arms, learning the secrets of her body and his … and was simply and gloriously happy.
The sewing lay forgotten in her lap and, for perhaps the hundredth time, she gazed hopefully down the quiet lane. They had gone out today disguised as cabbage sellers, with a loaded cart purchased from a passing pedlar and the impudent notion of offering their wares to the besieging army. Kate hoped that they weren’t, even now, under arrest for spying. But no. Surely that was the sound of wheels rumbling up the lane? Tense and expectant, she waited a few more minutes until the rickety vehicle with its two disreputable-looking occupants trundled into the view and then, tossing the shirt aside, she flew to the door.
Smiling at her from beneath his filthy hood, Luciano vaulted from the cart and left Selim to drive it out of sight round the back of the inn. Then he took her in his arms.
‘Ugh!’ Kate, laughed and pushed him away. ‘You smell disgusting.’
‘It’s only cabbage.’ And then, feverishly scratching, ‘Or then again, maybe not. But what’s a bit of dirt and the odd louse? And doesn’t an honest day’s toil deserve a kiss?’
‘Not until you’ve shed those clothes and washed,’ she said, nimbly evading his grasp. ‘I’ll ask them to send up some hot water. Now for heaven’s sake get inside before the landlord sees you and evicts us.’
Ten minutes later she was back in the parlour, setting the finishing touches to Luciano’s shirt and waiting impatiently for him to come down and put his hands on her while he told her about his day, when the door was virtually kicked open by an officer in New Model red. Startled, Kate looked up and then felt the air rush from her lungs.
‘Jesus Christ!’ exploded Eden, with flat incredulity. ‘You?’
Kate rose, re-inflated her lungs and said weakly, ‘Who were you expecting?’
‘I imagine you know perfectly well. Thanks to Tom, I recognised your crooked Italian friend and his damned servant skulking about the fringes of the army with their cabbages. They’re bloody lucky I didn’t have the pair of them clapped up on the spot. As it is, I’ve had to waste time I could ill afford following them in order to find out what the bloody hell they think they’re up to.’ He paused and regarded her out of eyes filled with freezing hostility. ‘And what do I find? My own sister, cosily ensconced in a sordid little love-nest. Not that I ought to be surprised. You’ve always wanted him, haven’t you? And all women are whores at heart.’
Rather pale and feeling as though she had been kicked in the stomach, Kate stared back at him. Ralph had said he’d changed … but nothing had prepared her for this. The harsh voice and intemperate language, the bitter eyes and mouth, the hard face with its thin, white scar all belonged to a stranger.
She said tonelessly, ‘You are under a misapprehension. Luciano and I are married.’
‘Married?’ He gave a venomously derisive laugh. ‘I thought you said you couldn’t be that stupid? No – don’t bother to explain. I understand only too well. And, married or not, you’re still prostituting yourself.’ He stripped off his gloves and threw them on the table. ‘But that’s your affair – and not what I came for. Where is he? Where is the crooked bastard?’
‘Here.’ Clad only in shirt and breeches and with a towel still in his hands from drying his hair, Luciano stepped through the door and pushed it shut behind him. Across the room, his eyes sought Kate’s and then, looking thoughtfully at Eden, he said, ‘You may insult me in whatever way you please. What you will not do is to treat your sister with anything less than respect. And if you’ve forgotten how that is done, I’ll be forced to remind you.’
‘Try it,’ advised Eden, smiling coldly, ‘and I’ll paste you to the walls. But in the meantime, I’ll say what I choose – and I don’t give respect where it’s not deserved.’
Luciano moved and, seeing it, Kate hurled herself across the floor to grasp his arm.
‘Don’t! It’s what he wants – can’t you see? And it won’t achieve anything. Just let him say what he came for and go.’
Carefully neutral night-dark eyes met frightened green ones. Then, shrugging slightly, Luciano said, ‘As you wish. But it would be better if you waited upstairs.’
‘No. Despite all appearances to the contrary, he’s my brother,’ she replied acidly. ‘And that being so, I’ll stay.’
‘Afraid he’ll need protection, Kate?’ taunted Eden.
‘No. Only that he may not find words simple enough to penetrate that warped brain of yours and explain what we’re doing here,’ she snapped, whirling round to face him. ‘Or perhaps you don’t really care about the truth and only want to make trouble?’
‘If that’s what I wanted, your Papist lover would already be behind bars.’
‘He’s my husband!’
‘So you say – though I personally doubt it and don’t give a tinker’s curse what he is.’
‘This,’ remarked Luciano crisply, ‘isn’t getting us anywhere. I presume you followed me back here in order to ask what I was doing today. Fortunately, I have no objections to telling you. I was trying to find out whether you and your colleagues intend to take Bristol or merely sit looking at it for another month or so. And my sole reason for doing so is that I’m awaiting a chance to catch up with Cyrus Winter – preferably not under the eyes of the whole New Model Army.’
‘My God – not you as well!’ Eden’s brows rose and his tone grew markedly scathing. ‘No one talks of anything else these days – though, if he’s a spy, it’s more than anyone’s managed to prove.’
‘Have they tried?’
‘Well of course they’ve bloody tried! You didn’t think that, after the flood of publicity he’s received, he’d be simply left alone to wreak havoc at will, do you? His duties have been restricted, somebody shadows his every step and he’s been hauled in for questioning both in the Army and at Westminster – none of which has produced a shred of evidence that he’s done anything except change sides. Not,’ he added caustically, ‘that I should think you care whether he’s a spy or not. After all, this isn’t your war, is it? So what do you wa
nt with him – aside from asking how he’s enjoying his new-found notoriety?’
There was a brief silence. Then Luciano said deliberately, ‘Since it was I who arranged it, what else would I want?’
For a moment, Eden looked frankly stunned and then his mouth curled in an unpleasant smile.
‘Well, well. Never say the pair of you are still trying to beat each other to my indiscriminating mother-in-law’s bed?’
Kate gripped Luciano’s arm even tighter.
‘If – if that was said for my benefit, it’s missed its mark. I’ve known for years. I just wasn’t sure that you did.’
‘Of course he knew.’ The white shade bracketing Luciano’s mouth indicated temper barely held in check. ‘It’s why he’s always disliked me. But we’re straying from the point again.’ He paused and fixed Eden with an implacable stare. ‘I didn’t bring Cyrus Winter to the public notice out of spite or any other trivial reason. I did it because everything I know points to the accusation being true. In short, the man is an artist of destruction. And if he finds out Kate and I are here, neither of our lives will be worth a groat.’
The hazel eyes narrowed a little and then Eden shrugged, dismissively.
‘Theatrical rubbish!’
‘No. It isn’t,’ said Kate. ‘Why won’t you listen?’
‘Because I’ve more important things to do.’
‘More important than hearing how close Cyrus Winter came to killing --’
‘Caterina.’ Luciano’s voice checked her and his gaze held hers. ‘It’s too long a story and, since he’s not ready to hear it, it would do more harm than good. All we want is his word that he won’t betray us.’ He looked at Eden. ‘Well? I’m asking you not to speak of our whereabouts to anyone. Will you do it?’
‘You think I’d want anyone to know that my sister is lying with a brothel-keeping bloodsucker?’ came the withering retort. And then, ‘But if I catch you or that servant of yours creeping around my men again, I won’t vouch for my actions. As for Cyrus Winter, you won’t get near him. And if he’s as dangerous as you say, you’d be better employed getting Kate right away from here.’
‘I’m more than aware of that. Unfortunately, she won’t go.’
‘Doing your breathing for you, is she? I can’t say I’m surprised. But that’s your problem. Mine is that we’re launching an assault on Bristol at first light tomorrow – and I’ve wasted enough time already by coming here, without wasting more wondering what you may be up to.’
‘Don’t worry. You’ve made your point,’ said Luciano. ‘Do you expect Bristol to fall?’
‘Yes.’ Eden picked up his gloves and put them on. ‘And then we’ll see, won’t we, whether Rupert gets court-martialled for surrendering as Nat Fiennes did?’ His eyes returned bleakly to Kate. ‘I won’t say it’s been a pleasure. It hasn’t. But at least you know now why I’m not fit to go home.’ And, turning on his heel, he strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
For a long moment, Kate looked helplessly at Luciano. Then she said violently, ‘He’s my brother – but I don’t know him any more. I could kill Celia.’
‘I know.’ He enclosed her in warm, steady arms and drew her head against his shoulder. ‘And I’m sorry I couldn’t let you tell him about Jude. But you understand why, don’t you?’
‘Yes. And I doubt he’d have believed it anyway.’ She sighed and then, at length, said, ‘If Cyrus Winter really is under surveillance, the fall of Bristol won’t be much help, will it?’
‘Probably not. Fortunately, however, I have infinite patience.’
She lifted her head to look up at him.
‘So you’ll go on watching and waiting?’
‘For as long as it takes. And it cuts both ways, you know. For if I can’t reach him, he can’t reach us. And it would be a shame to ruin the game by rushing it now, wouldn’t it?’
* * *
With plague and discontent in the town and only fifteen hundred Cavaliers to span its five miles of defences, the fate of Bristol was never in doubt. Fairfax began his assault at two in the morning and, by five, had broken through in two places on the Avon side and taken Prior’s Hill Fort. Like Nathaniel Fiennes before him, Rupert had no choice but to withdraw his forces to the castle and, by eight o’clock, was appealing for terms in order to save his remaining men from annihilation. As once he had taken Bristol, so now he lost it; and because that was quite bad enough, it was fortunate he didn’t yet know that his uncle’s regard, his command and his reputation had gone with it.
While Fairfax, with his customary civility, permitted the Prince to march away under safe conduct to Oxford with all his colours, drums, swords and pikes, Luciano waited to see what would happen next – and within a couple of days had his answer. Fairfax led half the army north towards Gloucestershire, while Lieutenant-General Cromwell with Eden Maxwell and Cyrus Winter somewhere in his train, took the other half off to reduce Devizes.
‘And that,’ said Luciano to Kate, later that same evening, ‘is reasonably helpful. Firstly, because the haystack is now much smaller – and secondly because we ought to be able to stay here for the present. Although with so much military activity around us and no way of knowing which way Cromwell will choose to move next, I think the time is fast approaching when we could do with a safer haven than a common inn.’
‘You mean you’d like me to have a safer haven,’ she replied, her fingers continuing to trace lazy patterns on his chest. ‘Forget it. And where could be safer than this? It’s like being shut away in our own little world.’
‘An illusion, amata mia – and you know it.’ He smiled and pulled her down on top of him for a long, simmering kiss. ‘But I, for one, am not complaining.’
Kate’s breath caught and she said unevenly, ‘You, marito mio, are insatiable.’
His mouth trailing along her jaw and down her throat while his hands were busy elsewhere, Luciano took his time about replying. Then, ‘And you’re not?’ he asked.
* * *
It was harder, now that Eden was looking out for him, for Luciano to get close enough to the army to ask the questions that needed to be asked – but not entirely impossible. A week after the fall of Bristol and with the collapse of Devizes expected daily, Luciano finally learned that the next town to receive Cromwell’s personal attention would be Winchester … and the discovery caused him to decide on a course of action which he had been contemplating for some time.
If Cromwell – as seemed likely – was intent on mopping up every Royalist garrison in the whole of Wiltshire and Hampshire, the chances of Kate and himself finding themselves caught in the cross-fire grew stronger every day. And though he had no choice but to continue playing grandmother’s footsteps with the army until Fate placed Cyrus Winter on the right square, it was time to put Kate in the one strategically placed stronghold where she would be safe.
‘Basing House?’ she echoed incredulously when he told her. ‘But it’s already under siege – and has been for weeks.’
‘By a Dutch engineer who hasn’t enough men to throw a ring round it,’ nodded Luciano. ‘I know. But it’s the greatest house in England, Caterina – and said to be impregnable. It’s come under attack at least twice before by Waller; and I don’t see a mere engineer succeeding where he failed – do you?’
‘I wouldn’t know. But what I do know is that Lord Winchester is said to be nourishing none but Catholics – so even if you could get me inside the place, it’s not very likely he’d let me stay.’ She stopped and then, reading his face, said bitterly, ‘Oh God. Don’t tell me. The Lord Marquis is a bosom friend of yours.’
‘We’ve met,’ agreed Luciano, with a faint smile. ‘And, because I’m Italian by birth, he’ll not only assume that I’m a good Catholic but that you are one too.’
‘Brilliant. You’ll be garlanding me with a crucifix and rosary beads next. But before you regale me with any more details of your wonderful plan, just tell me one thing. What will you be doing while I’m snug
as a bug with the Jesuits?’
‘Following the army to Winchester,’ came the wry response. ‘But that means I won’t be far from Basing and we needn’t be parted for long. So --’
‘We won’t be parted at all. I’m not leaving you.’
‘I’m afraid,’ he told her quietly but with utter finality, ‘that, this time, you are. You’re only here at all because you left me with no alternative … but from this point on, the terms are mine.’ He took her shoulders in a firm clasp and held her eyes with his own. ‘The honeymoon is over, cara mia – and the reason is a very simple one. I can dodge Eden, lurk wraith-like in the tail of the army and face up to Cyrus Winter; but I can’t do all those things and protect you properly as well. So it’s time to take other measures – and I’d be grateful, just this once, if you’d make it easy for me.’
* * *
The turrets and spires of the greatest house in England peered coyly over a massive wall of dark Tudor brick. Home and fortress of John Paulet, fifth Marquis of Winchester, Basing House was more truthfully two mansions in one and it sprawled over some fourteen acres. An ancient motte-and-bailey structure fronted by a huge four-storey gatehouse glared balefully at its newer, more luxurious three-hundred-and-eighty roomed neighbour; and about and between both lay courtyards, sentry-walks, barns and fish-stews. Kate had expected it to be big; what she had not expected was that it would be both more complex and more crowded than Whitehall.
With a little help from Selim, Luciano had no difficulty at all in spiriting the three of them inside – mainly because the Dutch engineer was focusing all his attention on one precise point of the Old House. And once within the walls, they were warmly welcomed by the courtly, jovial-faced marquis – and Kate found herself speedily installed in a chamber with three other ladies. Wisely, perhaps, Luciano gave her time to do little more than exchange a last kiss and beg him to be careful. Then he was gone again, leaving her alone in a sea of strange faces.
