He went on talking quietly, and Kate listened, offering sympathy by her silence. Though Petroc had been in Cornwall with his ship for the summer, he seemed to be well informed about the progress of the war, and told her a great deal. At last he smiled in his old way, and raised his eyebrows quizzically at her.
'You are all that I expected,' he said in a caressing tone. 'Thank you, my love.'
Before she could answer, he bent towards her, lightly kissed her on the end of her nose, and with a cheerful smile, turned and strode away.
Indignant, Kate stared after him as he disappeared along the quay, and remained standing there watching as he leapt down into a small boat and rowed himself out to his ship anchored in the deeper channel. Then she went home, but the encounter had made her restless, and more than ever she longed to know what had become of Jon.
Morwenna wrote, asking her to pay a visit, and making mysterious hints of changes. Mistress Anscombe, as restless as her daughter, accepted for them both, and they rode to Fowey. There they found Morwenna in a state of excitement which she tried to subdue.
'I am to be married,' she told Kate as soon as they could escape on their own. 'Oh, Kate, I feel so badly about being so happy when you still have no news of Jon, but I hope you will do soon!'
'This is sudden?' Kate queried, for there had been no hint of a marriage when she had left Fowey only weeks before.
Morwenna blushed. 'I did not expect it,' she replied slowly. 'It is a friend of Nick's, from Falmouth. He also has a boat, and does the same as Nick and Petroc. Nick brought him here just after you left, and, well, it happened!' she finished lamely.
Kate managed to overcome her own fears, and smiled at her cousin. 'You fell in love,' she said accusingly. 'Is that not it?'
Morwenna nodded. 'I am so fortunate! Richard is so wonderful!'
'Your parents approve?'
'Yes, they say he is in every way suitable, and it was arranged speedily, for he says that in these uncertain days there is no time to waste. We are to be married in September, and Kate, if it would not distress you, would you be my chief bridesmaid?'
Kate smiled and nodded, thinking despite herself of the contrast between Morwenna's lover and Jon, the one so eager, Jon so cautious. Then she chided herself, and tried to remember all the reasons that had caused Jon to delay their marriage, recalling how eager he had been when she had been injured and in danger. Then he had not allowed his caution to hold him back, she consoled herself, and tried to enter fully in Morwenna's joy.
On their return to Saltash Kate received a letter at last from Jon. Recognising his writing she tore open the single sheet, and hastily read it, then went running to find her mother and pour out the news.
'Jon was taken prisoner as we thought,' she exclaimed. 'He writes that he has been held in London for all this time, until he managed to escape. Now he is with Lord Henry Wilmot.'
Mistress Anscombe took the letter which Kate held out to her, and quickly read it.
'I am delighted for him, and for you, Kate. At last the strain of not knowing is over. But why has he not rejoined Sir Ralph?'
'He says the Cornish army has been split up amongst the rest. That must be the reason.'
'I wonder when he will be able to come and see us again?'
'When the way is cleared, I expect,' Kate said happily. 'The King seems to be having more success now. Let us hope this war will soon be finished!'
The weeks passed. Kate went again to Fowey, where she threw herself into the preparations for Morwenna's wedding, happier now she could look forward to her own, whenever that might be. There were another couple of letters from Jon, but he was unsure when he would be able to come to Cornwall, and did not mention their wedding.
Morwenna departed to Falmouth, blissfully happy with her Richard, whom Kate admitted to being a most attractive man, but with a smile disturbingly like Petroc's.
It must be an attribute of privateers, she told herself angrily when, having become used to Richard's friendliness, she found herself responding warmly to Petroc's smile. This merely deepened when she turned from her friendly attitude to haughty remarks, and sharp comments about men who thought too much of themselves.
*
Throughout the winter Kate lived quietly with her mother, waiting for news. Her father was able to come home frequently between his voyages, and he could tell them some news. Jon wrote occasionally, but it was not always easy to send letters. To her annoyance, Kate found herself looking forward to Petroc's visits, which were quite frequent, as he often sailed into the Tamar.
It is because he always knows more of what goes on than anyone else, she told herself firmly, but could not suppress the feeling of anticipation whenever a couple of weeks had passed and it was drawing near the time for his next visit. After he had left she was always silent, thinking mostly of the news he had brought, but also, she realised with disgust, of him, wondering how his own affairs progressed, and often she caught herself wondering what he was doing at that precise moment.
The King's successes in the previous summer, which had seemed to be gradually wearing down the Parliamentarians, were not decisive enough. In the middle of January, 1644, the Scots with twenty thousand seasoned troops, began to enter England. This had proved disastrous for the Royalists who might, on their own, have worn down the Parliamentarians. But the addition of the Scots to the ranks of their enemies made the task doubly difficult. Several battles were lost, and there was considerable disarray in the Royalist armies. Cornwall was far away from most of the action, but the Royalists there watched events with growing alarm. When news came, in July, of the defeat of the hitherto invincible Prince Rupert at Marston Moor, many folk predicted this was the beginning of the end for the King.
Kate, despite herself, found comfort now in talking with Petroc, who maintained his belief that it was only a temporary setback.
'Even the best of us occasionally lose battles,' he told her, smiling in the way which made her uncomfortably aware of the hints he had let fall the previous year when he had mentioned marriage. He had not said anything for many months now, and Kate was at the same time relieved and piqued. 'The final battle is the only important one,' he went on. 'Neither of us, the King nor I, has reached that yet.'
Kate looked at him and seemed about to comment, but she bit back the retort. Petroc laughed, and in the disconcerting way he had, swiftly bade her farewell and left.
Towards the end of the month Kate went again to Fowey, where Morwenna had returned to have her baby, expected during September. They had not met frequently since Morwenna's wedding, and had much to talk about.
'I trust I do not have so uncomfortable a time as the poor Queen,' Morwenna said on one occasion. 'It must have been terrible for her, besieged in Exeter while giving birth to her little daughter.'
'She escaped though?' Kate asked.
'Yes, eventually from Falmouth. Richard and some of the others escorted her across the Channel, in case the Parliamentarian ships attacked. They fired on her ship, but nothing more, and Richard was back saying she had reached France safely.'
'The war is coming our way again, it would seem. Nick heard the other day that Essex had reached Tavistock with a large Parliament army, in the hope, it is thought, of relieving Plymouth. The King apparently marches after him.'
Essex was nearer than they thought. The Earl had left Tavistock and, avoiding Sir Richard Grenvile, who had abandoned the siege of Plymouth to guard the passage across the Tamar at Horsebridge, reached Bodmin just before the end of the month. Events moved fast. By the second of August the King had reached Launceston and Essex, alarmed at this nearness of the King, moved to Lostwithiel, sending a detachment to Fowey to keep open his communications with the sea.
Things had happened so speedily there had been no time for plans to be made. It was impossible for Kate to return home to Saltash and her mother, and her father was in Falmouth or at sea. So was Morwenna's husband. Nick, fortunately, was at home, and he competently arranged
to transfer Morwenna, her mother, and Kate to the house of his uncle, Mr Carlyon at Bodinnick, where they would be away from the troops in Fowey.
'Do you propose going to sea?' Mistress Trevose asked in some trepidation as they prepared for their hurried journey.
Nick shook his head. 'My boat is hidden in Pont Pill Creek, and I intend to keep it there while the Parliament's ships are crowding about Fowey. It may serve some purpose there. I shall stay with Petroc until we see what is best to be done.'
That left Mr Trevose alone in Fowey, but he insisted on staying to protect his business as much as possible.
'I will keep in touch with you through Nick,' he promised as they set off. 'No men of my Lord Essex can keep Cornishmen away from harbours they need to reach!'
They left Fowey just as the first soldiers from Essex's troops marched down the hill into the town. It was a short pull across the river to the landing stage at Bodinnick, and there Mr Carlyon was waiting for them with several servants to carry their baggage.
Nick promised to come and see them the following day, and pushed off the boat to row round the headland into the creek. Mr Carlyon meanwhile had organized the baggage, and sent off the servants.
'We will take it calmly up the hill,' he said, offering Morwenna his arm, and she took it gratefully as they began the long climb away from the river. They stopped several times to rest for Morwenna's sake. Then they looked back across the river to the bustle in Fowey, where the soldiers seemed to be making themselves at home with little resistance.
'Will Essex follow them?' Mistress Trevose asked worriedly.
'Unlikely,' her brother reassured her. 'If he does, he will be trapped, for his only way out would be by sea, and I cannot see your Nick and his friends allowing that to happen! No, I suspect he will attempt to break out back towards Devon, unless a much stronger Parliamentary force can be sent to join him. I do not, from what I hear, think that is very likely.'
Comforted by his calm confidence, Mistress Trevose and Morwenna began to plan ahead, sure they would not have to remain away from home for long. Kate wished she could be so certain, but she was apprehensive, more so than she had ever felt when she had been in the midst of the fighting about Saltash.
'No doubt Jon will be with the King, and will endeavour to come to you,' Morwenna said bracingly after they had reached the house and were installed in their new quarters. Kate smiled briefly, but did not feel so elated as she had expected to be at the prospect.
They settled into a new routine, thankful Nick contrived to visit them every day. He grew more cheerful as the days went past.
'Essex is being trapped,' he declared. 'The King means to contain him in a small area. He has ten thousand troops to supply, and the Cornish are not as helpful as he was led to believe they would be by Lord Robartes of Lanhydrock! He cannot find enough rations for his men nor fodder for the horses.'
'But the ships he was hoping to contact? Might they not get past the defenders?' Morwenna asked anxiously.
Nick smiled. 'Even the weather is with us. We do not need to come to the defence of Fowey for a westerly wind keeps the Parliamentary fleet in Plymouth. They have not yet moved, and I do not believe they will. So there will be no relief from the sea.'
'Then it will be slaughter, and Fowey will suffer,' Mistress Trevose said unhappily.
'Not necessarily,' Nick said comfortingly to his mother. 'Essex is more likely to surrender than fight to the very end. The King has almost twice as many troops. He has sent Sir Richard Grenvile round to the south-west of Tregony, and is gradually containing Essex. He is not so bad a general he cannot recognise when he is beaten. I doubt if he will sacrifice his men needlessly.'
'I would expect him to be desperate,' Kate said slowly.
'Yes, but I do not think him foolish, or he would not have retained command of the army for two whole years.'
*
Everyone in Fowey and round about watched the weather anxiously, looking for a change in the wind that would allow the Parliamentary ships to come. Many of the villagers, finding themselves overrun with soldiers, would have welcomed the ships merely to rid themselves of their unwelcome guests, caring nought for military matters. But the wind did not change, and the ships did not come.
It was on the Tuesday morning, four days after the hurried flight from Fowey, that Kate was in the garden reading to her small cousins. She heard footsteps in the road beyond the hedge, and looked up for a moment to see who passed. In her astonishment she dropped the horn book, and standing up was oblivious of the cry of protest from the children. It was Jon, just entering the gate that led directly from the garden to the road which wound its way down to the quay.
'Kate!' he exclaimed, and she ran to meet him.
'Jon! Why, what do you here? How long it has been! How are you? Can you stay long?'
Laughing, he shook his head at all these questions. 'Which shall I answer first?'
'What brings you here?'
'To see you, my Kate, of course!'
'But how did you know we were here?'
'First when I paid a visit to Saltash I learned you were in Fowey, and then when I sought you there I heard you were here.'
Kate stared at him, her brow creased in puzzlement.
'But Fowey is held by the Parliamentarians,' she said slowly. 'How can you have been there?'
Jon grinned. 'It is not difficult to cross the river! I understand Nick does so every day.'
'Yes, but the danger to you in Fowey?'
'Essex has only a thousand men holding the town and the bank of the river. 'Tis easy enough to evade them. I have been on a scouting expedition. The chance of seeing you, Kate, spurred me to volunteer. There are no Parliamentarians on this side of the river apart from a few in Polruan fort, so I was able to ride to St Veep. I left my horse there and crossed to Golant the night before last, spent yesterday in Fowey, and crossed over to Bodinnick this morning to see you. I was in no real danger. Now I can ride back to the King at Boconnoc, all the more content for having seen you, my love.'
Mistress Anscombe had seen Jon and came out from the house to welcome him.
'How long can you stay?' she asked when he had explained his unexpected arrival.
'I must ride back to the King tonight,' he said regretfully.
'Stay at least for dinner. Kate, take Jon for a walk along the cliff top by Hall Farm. There is an excellent view of Fowey and the harbour.'
Glad to escape alone, they went off and spent the next hour happily wandering along the cliff walk, Jon telling Kate of the last few months when he had been fighting for the King. He spoke only very briefly of his captivity, and she did not care to press him on this. They looked across the river at the town and the harbour, glittering in the bright August sunshine, and also towards the fort of Polruan which, together with its twin on the Fowey side of the river, guarded the entrance to the river. Then they walked further round the shores of Pont Pill, and had gone some way when Jon stopped and pointed towards the other shore.
'Whose boat is that?' he asked urgently.
Kate looked where he pointed and saw a large boat half hidden in a small inlet, apparently covered with branches so that to the casual observer it would be scarcely noticeable.
'Probably Nick's,' she said unconcernedly. 'He mentioned that he was keeping it in hiding here. It is well concealed, impossible to detect from Fowey or the main river. I believe 'tis only visible from up here.'.
Jon was silent, standing staring at the boat, then he turned to speak to Kate, but instead looked beyond her with a startled expression, and reached for his sword. She swung round to see what had alarmed him, and found Petroc lounging against a tree.
'Well met, Peyton. Now, methinks, comes the reckoning!'
Chapter 10
Kate looked anxiously at the two men, facing each other with her between them. Jon had drawn his sword and stood poised, ready for action, but Petroc leaned nonchalantly against the tree, surveying them with some amusement in his
eyes.
'What do you do here?' Jon asked at length.
'I wait,' was the cool reply.
'Jon, let us go,' Kate urged, but Jon shook his head, not taking his eyes away from Petroc.
'I think you should go, Kate,' Petroc suggested. ' 'Tis not fit we should brawl in your presence.'
'Why should you brawl at all?' she demanded hotly. 'Why do you make threats?'
'But I do not,' he answered gently. 'Peyton has his sword at the ready, not I. I merely intend to ask some questions.'
'I do not understand you,' Kate said flatly.
'Kate, methinks you had best go, and let me deal with the fellow. He has been wishing to attack me for a long time.'
'There is no reason for you to fight! Jon, there is no cause!'
She turned indignantly to Petroc when it was clear Jon did not pay heed to her words, but he smiled aggravatingly.
'Cause enough, my sweet Kate.'
Jon took a step forward, but Petroc did not move. Kate caught Jon's sleeve.
'He derives some amusement from this taunting,' she said urgently. 'Leave him, I beg.'
'Merely answer me one question, Peyton. What proposals had my Lord Essex to make this time?'
Kate gasped, looking at Petroc in amazement, then back at Jon.
'You talk wildly,' Jon said in surprise.
'What is your meaning?' Kate said slowly.
Petroc glanced at her. 'Peyton knows well enough. If you do not intend to leave us, then, you will have to hear it. 'Tis my belief Jon Peyton is a traitor to his King, and bears letters from the Earl of Essex that will prove what I say.'
'Utter nonsense,' Jon exclaimed. 'You will answer for that, Tremaine!'
He drew his sword completely from its scabbard and stepped forward. Kate clutched at his arm but he shook her off, and she stepped back, seeing that Petroc had abandoned his negligent pose and had swiftly drawn his own sword. The two men circled one another warily, and Kate drew aside, realising they were too far intent on each other to be aware of her presence. Standing beside a slender birch tree, she held on to it unconsciously as she watched them searching for an opening.
Strife Beyond Tamar Page 11
