by Stella Riley
Ellis had no intention of explaining that the plot he’d described owed nothing to him – or that those involved in it had suddenly and in his view, inexplicably, cast him from their midst.
‘Oh there’s time enough. I’ll be back there before anything happens … and meanwhile, we’ve other irons in the fire.’
‘Such as what?’
‘Need you ask? Naturally, our next move will be to rescue the King himself.’
Even without Captain Peverell’s strictures ringing in her ears, this didn’t sound especially convincing. Venetia looked forebodingly down on Ellis’s windswept, chestnut head and said, ‘If that’s the case, shouldn’t you be on the Isle of Wight? And wouldn’t it be more sensible to concentrate on one thing at a time?’
He smiled indulgently back at her.
‘My sweet, you don’t understand how these things are done. There are a myriad of details to be taken care of and some of them involve a good deal of travelling. As for the King, we need to start planning his escape before —’
‘Did you hear something?’ cut in Venetia sharply.
Ellis glanced briefly about them.
‘Only the wind.’
‘Are you sure?’ She paused, straining her ears.
‘Perfectly. There’s no one there. You worry too much.’
‘Plainly, I don’t. If I did, I’d have ridden straight past you and gone home.’
‘But you didn’t. I wonder why?’ Ellis reached up to capture one of her hands. ‘Perhaps it’s because you’re aware that taking the occasional risk is one of life’s small pleasures … or perhaps you’re more pleased to see me than you care to admit.’
‘Don’t count on it,’ began Venetia. And then stopped, staring blindly past him through the trees … into the dark, sardonic gaze of her husband.
Her nerves snarled into a painful tangle and shock immobilised every muscle. Ellis, meanwhile, was still totally oblivious and had succeeded in removing her glove in order to murmur mischievous endearments into her palm. Venetia experienced a strong desire to box his ears, followed by the futile wish that the ground would open and swallow them both up. Then, summoning what was left of her scattered wits, she dragged her hand free and muttered savagely, ‘Turn round. And leave the talking to me.’
Startled by her tone, Ellis spun smartly on his heel and froze. The wind suddenly increased its vigour, howling around them as if it were somehow part of the drama before dying down again with equal abruptness. Then Gabriel rode slowly and inexorably towards them.
‘Dear me,’ he said in the mild tone Venetia was learning to mistrust. ‘I appear to have arrived an inopportune moment.’
‘Not at all,’ she returned carelessly. ‘This is an old friend whom I met by chance. His name is —’
‘Don’t,’ said Gabriel.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Don’t say anything you might regret.’ The impassive eyes moved to encompass Ellis and there was a tiny cataclysmic pause. Then, ‘Welcome, brother. I’ve been wondering how long it would be before we met again.’
The breath hissed between Ellis’s teeth and he lifted on contemptuous brow.
‘Don’t call me brother. My father may not have been fastidious in these matters – but I am. And I’ll have no by-blow claiming kinship with me.’
‘That is your privilege,’ came the indifferent reply.
‘Again?’ said Venetia jerkily. ‘You wondered how long it would be before you met again?’
‘Yes.’ A ghostly smile touched the hard mouth. ‘Our paths have crossed once before – albeit briefly – at the battle of Langport in ’45. Did I neglect to mention it?’
‘You know you did. My God – of course you did.’ Nervous wrath threatened to choke her voice. ‘It’s just another of your little snares, isn’t it?’
‘If it was, I’d have let you tighten the noose by lying to me.’ With annoying calm, Gabriel dropped from the saddle and looped his reins over a convenient branch. ‘And now I suggest that you hold your tongue before your temper gets the better of you. In fact, it might be as well for all concerned if you went home.’
‘I think not,’ she snapped. ‘Why should I?’
Ellis laughed and threw his cloak back from one shoulder to reveal his sword.
‘Why do you think? He wants to fight, sweetheart. And he doesn’t want you to watch.’
‘You make a hell of a lot of assumptions,’ observed the Colonel aridly. ‘Why should I want to fight you? I’m sure your blood is much the same as anyone else’s.’
‘Since you’re unlikely to see it, you’ll never know,’ drawled Ellis. And then, over his shoulder to Venetia, ‘He’s a conceited bastard, isn’t he?’
‘Very possibly,’ replied Gabriel. ‘But doesn’t it take one to know one?’ This time the smile was more pronounced and distinctly mocking. ‘Of course, we could stand here exchanging insults till Kingdom come. Alternatively, we could put the short time which is all we will have together to better use. It’s entirely up to you.’
Since the Roundhead obviously had no intention of fighting, Ellis couldn’t resist pricking him a little – mainly for Venetia’s benefit. He said, ‘The only use I have for it is to spit you like a pig.’
‘If you meant that, you’d have drawn your sword five minutes ago. But don’t despair. Although I’ve nothing against you at the moment, that could all change. And if it does, I may well be persuaded to give you the opportunity you say you want.’
‘I’ll look forward to it.’
‘By all means do. Just remember that – like many things in life –it may not quite live up to your expectations.’ The crisp voice was suddenly laced with bored impatience. ‘For now, however, let us content ourselves with exposing a few basic facts. You resent my existence, my usurpation of your inheritance and my marriage to your loved one. Naturally. You would be unique if you didn’t. But I would like to point out that none of these things were of my choosing.’
‘Is that an excuse?’ scoffed Ellis. ‘Or an apology?’
‘From what I’ve seen so far, it’s probably best described as a waste of breath,’ returned Gabriel blightingly. ‘But let us not be hasty. I was about to state that no one can order their own birth. It might also surprise you to learn that I never wanted Brandon Lacey – and that you could have had it back with my very good will if only our father hadn’t made it impossible. As for Venetia … well, I’m sure she has already explained the circumstances of our marriage more than adequately.’
Ellis managed to look derisively incredulous but appeared temporarily lost for words.
Venetia had no such lack.
‘Why are you saying these things?’ she demanded darkly.
‘Perhaps because they needed saying?’ Gabriel’s eyes remained fixed on his half-brother. ‘Whether you believe them or not is your own affair. Mine is to have tried.’
‘Tried?’ flashed Ellis. ‘To do what, pray? Effect some kind of tawdry reconciliation between us? Christ! If you honestly think you can do that, you must be sixpence short of the shilling. But you don’t think it, do you? You’re just trying to smooth things over in case I’ve any notion of planting a knife in your back one dark night.’
‘And have you?’ invited the Colonel gently.
‘Of course he hasn’t!’ said Venetia in a desperate attempt to sidestep calamity. Ellis had got bravado written all over him and was quite likely to overlook the fact that a stupid, swaggering threat to assassinate an Army officer could put him behind bars. ‘What do you think he is? A common murderer?’
‘As yet, I’ve no idea what he is.’
‘Then let me set your mind at rest,’ offered Ellis irrepressibly. ‘I have never in my life done anything in the least common. So if I decide to terminate your existence – which, as you quite rightly say, I thoroughly resent – my method will be one of the utmost refinement.’
Venetia groaned and stared at her husband out of eyes dark with stress. His expression remained completely shu
ttered but, for a fleeting instant, she thought she detected a tiny, betraying tremor that might possibly have been laughter. Then he said blandly, ‘I’m relieved to hear it. I, of course, have no refinement whatsoever – so I’ll conclude this fascinating encounter with a crude warning. I assume, since it’s what landed all of us in this mess, that you are an active Royalist. In itself, that is none of my business – but if you involve Venetia in your schemes, you will make it so. I trust I make myself clear?’
Venetia curbed the temptation to inform Gabriel that she’d do as she pleased without interference from him and, instead, placed a discreet kick in Ellis’s ribs. It was a waste of time. Ellis leaned negligently against Dulcie’s flank and said, ‘He doesn’t know you very well, my sweet. If he did, he’d know that no one tells you what to do. Not even me.’
‘Certainly not you,’ she snapped. And then, to the Colonel, ‘You’ve made your point – though it rather sounds as if you are now the one making assumptions. However. What you’re saying is that you want Ellis to keep away from Brandon Lacey in general and me in particular. Is that it?’
‘So long as he continues involving himself in Royalist plots – yes,’ came the cool reply. ‘And that is for his good as much as for yours.’
‘Such concern!’ said Ellis sarcastically. ‘You’ll be telling us next that you’d be sorry to see me arrested.’
Gabriel surveyed his half-brother dispassionately and decided that he’d had enough of him.
‘I may have had some such idea to begin with. Now, however, I’m rapidly realising that any regrets I might have would be short-lived. In fact, if this goes on much longer, I’m likely to lock you up myself just to break the monotony.’
‘Try it!’ Ellis surged forward, half-drawing his sword.
‘Oh – go to hell,’ returned Gabriel. And, turning his back, prepared to re-mount his horse.
For a split second, Venetia thought Ellis was actually going to attack. Horrible possibilities crowded her mind and, without waiting to be sure of his intentions, she brought Dulcie round to buffet him squarely in the back. He lurched forward and went sprawling on the turf.
Gabriel turned and looked thoughtfully from Ellis to Venetia and back again. Then, with only the merest quiver of amusement, he said, ‘I’m not sure of my cue. Should I say Pride goeth before a fall or He who diggeth a pit shall fall therein? Never mind. I’m sure either is equally appropriate.’
Red-faced and covered in bits of leaf and twig, Ellis struggled to his feet and turned furiously on Venetia. She scowled ferociously back and, while the Colonel was rising effortlessly into his saddle, muttered, ‘I’m sorry – but you’ve already done enough damage for one day.’
‘Say goodbye, Venetia.’ Gabriel’s pleasant but unmistakably magisterial tones prevented any further exchange. ‘We’re going.’
She would have given anything she possessed for the pleasure of refusing but the necessity of curtailing the meeting before Ellis made things any worse than they already were outweighed all other considerations.
‘Goodbye,’ she said woodenly. And rode off without waiting for an answer.
Gabriel gave his half-brother a last, ironic smile.
‘I suggest you try to remember what I’ve said. I meant every word. And if I’m forced to remind you, my methods may become a little more … pointed.’
*
Venetia rode home at a cracking pace, leaving Gabriel to follow as he saw fit. She was in the hall, stripping off her gloves with shaking hands when he came in – and one look at his face told her that it wasn’t over yet. She said unevenly, ‘Well? I take it you want to lecture me about daring to associate with the man I was betrothed to for five years. And no doubt you’re also going to hammer home your objections to my involving myself in Royalist matters. Of course, there’s no need for either. I think we can safely say that I’m well aware of your views. But I don’t suppose that’s going to stop you, is it?’
Gabriel’s eyes were decidedly grim but when he spoke his voice was as remote as ever.
‘In fact, I’ve only one word to say to you. Pack.’
She stared at him. ‘What?’
‘Pack. You’re coming with me to London tomorrow.’
It was the very last thing she had been expecting and a bubble of faint hysteria formed in her chest. She shook her head and said, ‘Oh no. I really don’t think so.’
‘Then you misunderstand me. This isn’t a suggestion or even an invitation. I am simply stating a fact.’
She was suddenly very still.
‘You can’t make me.’
‘On the contrary, I think you will find that I can.’ He paused and then, reading her thought, said, ‘You’re wondering why? It’s very simple. I’m not leaving you here to embroil yourself in any hare-brained scheme of Ellis’s making. And if anything was needed to convince me that I can’t trust you, it was provided by the quite remarkable docility and restraint you showed just now. For if you weren’t up to your charming neck in nefarious activities, you’d have told me to go hang myself.’
This was uncomfortably close to the mark and Venetia silently damned his astuteness. Then, with a creditable assumption of amusement, she said, ‘Dear me. Ellis has a lot to answer for, hasn’t he? You’ll be looking for plotters under the bed next.’
‘Only under yours,’ he responded. ‘But we’re wasting time. I’m leaving at first light tomorrow and you’re coming with me. So unless you want to arrive in London with just the clothes you stand up in, I suggest you go and start preparing yourself.’
She thought rapidly. He was right, of course. He could make her go with him. But perhaps a few weeks in London would be no bad thing. At least she would be at the centre of events for once. Shrugging carelessly, she said, ‘Very well. But I hope you’ve given some thought to where I’m supposed to stay once we get there?’
‘I don’t need to. You’ll stay in Shoreditch with my foster-brother and his wife.’
Venetia’s heart sank. That really was all she needed. It was going to be appalling. It couldn’t be anything else.
In a last-ditch attempt to improve the situation, she said flatly, ‘All right. But unless you’re happy to drag me with you by force, you’ll ask Phoebe to come too.’
His brows rose. ‘Phoebe? Why?’
‘Why do you think? If I’m to be surrounded by your family, I want someone of my own with me. And Phoebe might enjoy it. She’s never been to London – nor, once her birthday comes and she inherits Ford Edge, is she likely to get another chance for a while.’ She stopped, regarding him stubbornly. ‘Well? It’s not so much to ask, is it?’
There was a moment’s silence. Then, entirely without warning, Gabriel’s severity dissolved into a spectacularly disarming smile.
‘Not of me. But then, I’ll be in quarters with the Army. It’s Jack who’ll have her digging up his cellar in search of buried treasure. Fortunately, he’s nothing if not philosophical.’
~ ~ ~
SEVEN
In the end, Venetia succeeded in augmenting the party by more than just Phoebe. She insisted on taking her maid, Jane – and then added that, since she and Phoebe could not be expected to go about London alone in these unsettled times, they had better take a reliable groom to escort them. Apart from asking if she also wanted to take her own cook and laundress, Gabriel made surprisingly little objection to this and so Sym Potter joined their cavalcade.
The journey was accomplished with military precision and relentless speed. Venetia, Phoebe and Jane bounced along in a coach piled high with luggage while Gabriel, Wat and Sym rode alongside. After two days of having her bones reduced to pulp, Venetia suggested that if Gabriel was in such a hurry he had better go on ahead with Wat and leave the rest of them to travel at a less frenetic pace. Gabriel replied that there was nothing he’d like better – were it not for the increasing number of Royalist ex-soldiers now making a living from highway robbery. Venetia withdrew into stony silence and asked no more questions.
/> Phoebe, naturally, showed no such reticence and, by the time they reached London, Venetia knew all about Jack, Annis, the baby and Bryony. It was not until the coach drew up before the Morrells’ house in Shoreditch, however, that she discovered Gabriel had apparently made no attempt to warn his foster-family of their coming.
She said, ‘I don’t believe this. You’re foisting four people on them without so much as a by-your-leave?’
‘Yes.’ Gabriel held out a hand to help her from the carriage. ‘But don’t panic. I’m sure they’ll cope.’
Annis and Bryony were in the parlour, polishing the furniture when the Colonel led his wife and sister-in-law in on them. Bryony gasped, then stood rooted to the spot and Annis’s initial reaction of surprised pleasure was swiftly replaced by an urgent desire to hide her dusters.
‘Why – Gabriel!’ she said weakly, trying not to stare at the cool, silver-fair beauty at his elbow. ‘How nice.’
‘Isn’t it?’ Grinning a little, he bent to kiss her cheek and dropped his hat over the pot of polish on the table. ‘I see I needn’t ask how you are. Motherhood obviously agrees with you – and I’m sure you’ll tell me that my nephew is a model baby. What did you call him, by the way?’
‘John. And yes – as it happens, he is a good baby.’
‘I’m delighted to hear it.’ Gabriel’s eyes travelled thoughtfully to his rigid foster-niece. ‘Well, Bryony? You may not feel inclined to throw yourself on my neck, but I should have thought securing Mr Radford’s release from Newgate ought to be worth a smile at least.’
‘Of course,’ she replied stiffly. ‘And if I’d known you were so eager to be thanked, I’d have done it the instant you walked in. As it was, I thought you might prefer to introduce your – your companions first.’
‘Did you? Then allow me to do so.’ He drew Venetia and Phoebe smoothly forward. ‘Mistress Venetia Brandon and Mistress Phoebe Clifford; my wife and sister-in-law, whom I’ve brought here in the hope that you’ll look after them while I return to Headquarters.’
Venetia could have hit him – and one glance at Bryony told her that she wasn’t the only one.
