by Stella Riley
He was dressed as shabbily as ever and clutching the inevitable sheaf of papers to his chest. Smiling a little, she said, ‘I’d be happy to. Have you been reporting upon the trial for the Moderate?’
‘Yes.’ He helped her into the boat and climbed in beside her. ‘My revered employer is determined not only to print a full day-to-day account but also a series of pamphlets. Consequently, he’s demanding a verbatim record. And since my stenography is better than his own, here I am.’ He grinned companionably at her. ‘How’s the Colonel?’
‘Bored but otherwise remarkably calm,’ replied Venetia. ‘I’m told you tried to visit him. Why?’
‘Because I owe him my forthcoming marriage to Bryony; because of what he did for Justin; because I like him,’ came the straightforward response. ‘And, of course, to offer him the benefit of Free-born John’s vast experience in what to say and what not to say in the event of a trial. Speaking of which – the King’s doing rather well, don’t you think? John is in the wilds of County Durham at present … but I think, in certain respects, he’ll be sorry to have missed such a masterly demonstration of his own tactics.’
‘Quite possibly. But it’s no use you expecting Gabriel to employ them. They won’t work with a court-martial.’
‘No.’ There was silence for a moment and then Sam said, ‘Bryony told me the whole story. Have you still no idea who laid the information?’
‘None,’ said Venetia flatly. ‘Cromwell says the informant is no murderer – but both Gabriel and I find that very hard to believe. Therefore, since even Ireton can’t keep Gabriel under arrest forever without some kind of hard evidence, it will all start again as soon as he’s released.’
‘You think so?’
‘What else can I think? After all the trouble they’ve gone to, I can’t see whoever it is giving up now. Can you?’
~ ~ ~
THREE
Venetia visited the Tower on the following morning and then met Isabel and Lady Newburgh shortly after one o’clock in New Palace Yard. Although she would have bled to death sooner than admit it, the strain of the past few weeks was beginning to tell and, having been unable to face breakfast and found no time for food since, she could feel fatigue taking its toll. This made it difficult to respond suitably to Kate’s vivacity and Isabel’s subtle prying into the case against Gabriel … but Venetia did her best and tried to ignore the dull thudding at her temples, caused by the din arising from the public benches. Then, just as the Commissioners made their entrance, she discovered that she felt unpleasantly hot and a strange roaring invaded her ears. She swayed in her seat and the world went black.
The next thing she knew was Kate, chafing her hands and Isabel waving something pungent under her nose. Opening her eyes, she said feebly, ‘I’m sorry. How silly of me. I never fainted before in my life.’
Below in the Court, the usual roll was being called. Lady Newburgh ignored it and fanned Venetia energetically with the edge of her cloak. She murmured, ‘No, love. But, at a guess, you’ve good reason for it now. Am I right?’
Some of Venetia’s colour started to return and she managed a wry smile. Before she could speak, however, Isabel hissed sharply, ‘You’re pregnant?’
It was something which Venetia would have preferred to go on keeping to herself but it was plainly a little late for that. She said, ‘Yes. I believe so. But we can’t talk about that now. The trial’s starting.’
Isabel sat perfectly still, staring at her; Kate beamed and looked as though she wanted to enquire further. Fortunately, Solicitor Cook prevented her from doing so by beginning the session with a demand that, having refused to put in a plea, the King should now be regarded as having confessed – and that sentence be passed upon him.
It seemed, however, that Lord President Bradshaw was not prepared to do this just yet. He reminded the King that justice knew no respect of persons and requested him to answer the charge in plain English. His Majesty replied that he valued the charge not a rush … and the afternoon wore by in much the same pattern as before. Finally, the King announced that he would never acknowledge the Court’s authority until he was assured it posed no threat to the fundamental privileges of the people.
‘How far you have preserved the privileges of the people, your actions have spoke it!’ retorted Bradshaw, overjoyed at the prospect of scoring a point at last. ‘Truly, Sir, you have written your meaning in bloody characters throughout the whole Kingdom. Clerk – record the default. And gentlemen … you that have charge of the prisoner, take him back again.’
‘If it were only my own particular, I would not say any more nor interrupt you,’ began the King. ‘But —’
‘You have heard the pleasure of the Court and you are – notwithstanding that you will not understand it – to find you are before a Court of Justice,’ returned Bradshaw acidly. And then, once again, ‘Remove the prisoner.’
Rising, the King stood quite still, his eyes locked with those of Oliver Cromwell. Then, with heavy emphasis, he said, ‘I see I am before a power.’
And turning, walked briskly out amidst the usual welter of conflicting cries.
*
Venetia had to endure a good deal more chatter about her pregnancy before she was finally able to escape and go home to tell Sophia all about it. And when she had finished speaking, Sophia said thoughtfully, ‘Something of the sort was bound to happen sooner or later. You’ve been doing far too much. But it raises another question, too; namely, how long you can go on keeping it from Gabriel.’
‘I don’t know,’ sighed Venetia. ‘I’d rather not tell him until he’s released because, beneath the beautifully preserved sangfroid, I suspect he’s restless enough already. But if Eden doesn’t work a miracle in the next month or so …’ She stopped and shrugged. ‘Well, let’s just say I won’t be able to hide it indefinitely.’
Had she but known it, Gabriel’s so-called sangfroid existed only when she was with him. The rest of the time – and particularly when she had just left – he was aware of a steadily increasing urge to hammer down the walls with his bare hands. He was unused both to life indoors and to the sheer, mind-cracking boredom of enforced inactivity. His body felt caged and his mind, frustrated. Worse still, his desire for Venetia was as great as it had ever been and seeing her for one, celibate hour each day was subtle torture.
When she visited him on the morning of Thursday 25th, it was to tell him that there had been no public session of the Court the previous afternoon and would be none again that day.
‘The Commissioners are supposedly in the Painted Chamber hearing witnesses,’ she said. ‘Though precisely what sort of witnesses, I can’t imagine.’
‘The sort who’ll confirm the ‘Man of Blood’ theory,’ replied Gabriel, leaning against the wall on the far side of the cell and trying not to look at the curve of her mouth or the way her hair gleamed in the dull light. ‘But they can’t produce them until the King accepts the Court’s authority.’
‘So what’s to stop them declaring him pro confesso and proceeding without further ado?’
‘Nothing – except that I’m sure Cromwell would prefer to complete this charade with at least the rags of legality. And getting the King to speak is his only hope.’
‘Then let’s pray he clings to it,’ muttered Venetia. And then, ‘Eden says Fairfax has been asking about you. That’s good, isn’t it? A word from him and you could be home.’
Gabriel refrained from advising her not to hold her breath and instead said lightly, ‘It can’t be too soon for me. Do you have to come here looking so alluring?’
She smiled at him. ‘I could wear a veil, if you like.’
‘Try a head-to-foot sack.’
Feeling her smile grow awry, Venetia dug her nails into her palms and stared down at her hands.
‘Don’t.’ Gabriel was at her side in three strides, sitting down and pulling her into his arms. ‘It was a bad joke, that’s all. Looking at you is the only bright spot in my day. You know that, don’t you
?’ He trailed his lips along her jaw. ‘And just because I’d like to do more than look … well, we all have our crosses to bear. And you’re mine.’
This time she managed a tiny laugh.
‘You say the most delightful things.’
‘I know. My charm is legendary.’
And he took her mouth in a long, mind-stealing kiss.
Later, her head resting on his shoulder, Venetia said, ‘Jack has summoned us all to dinner tomorrow to discuss what else can be done. Have you any suggestions?’
‘Yes,’ said Gabriel. ‘Tell him to make me half a dozen petards – or send me a pie with a bottle of aqua fortis and a rope inside it. Or, if he prefers to play safe, tell him to start digging a tunnel.’
*
Eden found Gabriel’s suggestions funny. So, to a lesser extent, did Bryony and Sam. Jack merely scowled into a dish of eels and observed that he was glad Gabriel was able to be flippant. Then he invited Major Maxwell to tell them how far he had progressed with his investigation.
Eden straightened out his face and accepted a slice of beef from the platter Annis was holding out to him.
‘As far as I can. I’ve offered mitigating factors in defence of Gabriel’s behaviour during the purge and also his absence last month. I’ve a statement from Venetia regarding the coins and ones from Baxter and Willis swearing that Justin and Francis are a pair of ruthless fellows who escaped without help. Consequently, unless Ireton has evidence he hasn’t yet revealed, I can reduce the charges to almost nil. Cromwell knows it – as does Fairfax.’
‘So Gabriel may be released soon?’ asked Bryony.
‘Perhaps – though not until after the King’s trial.’
‘And what,’ asked Jack single-mindedly, ‘about the identity of the person who put him where he is now?’
Eden shook his head.
‘No joy there, I’m afraid. Ireton doesn’t know the name of Cromwell’s informant and Old Noll takes very good care not to let me ask.’
There was a small silence while everyone thought it over. Then Samuel said, ‘It sounds to me as if the Lieutenant-General is protecting a friend of his.’
‘That’s what it sounds like to me, too,’ agreed Venetia. ‘Unfortunately, however, it doesn’t help very much. He must know dozens of people who also know Gabriel. And since we can’t think of anyone except Ellis who might wish Gabriel harm, it makes it difficult to know where to start.’
An arrested expression entered Eden’s eyes and, seeing it, Sophia said, ‘You’ve thought of something?’
‘Not exactly. I just suddenly remembered Hugh Peter. He and Gabriel have always been at daggers-drawn – and he’s close to Cromwell. But it couldn’t be him. He’s an Army chaplain, for God’s sake!’
‘So?’ said Jack. ‘Judging by his sermons, he’s also violent and vindictive.’
‘Very likely,’ agreed Eden. ‘But there’s a big difference between hell-and-damnation preaching and trying to send a man to eternity just because you don’t like him.’
‘One would hope so,’ said Venetia. ‘On the other hand and lacking any other ideas, it can’t do any harm to check the matter out. Can it?’
*
On the following afternoon, leaving the matter of Hugh Peter in the capable hands of Major Maxwell and Samuel Radford, Venetia joined Lady Gillingham and Kate Newburgh for what was strongly suspected would be the last day of the King’s trial. As on the first day, sixty-eight Commissioners were present and, when the King entered the Hall, cries of ‘Execution!’ mingled with the usual ones of ‘Justice!’ These and the fact that, for the first time, the Lord President was robed in red, told His Majesty that sentence was imminent and caused him to begin without waiting for the proper formalities.
‘If it please you, sir, I desire to be heard.’
‘You shall be heard before the judgement is given,’ returned Bradshaw blandly. And, to the rows of the Commissioners, ‘It is well-known that the prisoner has been several times brought before the Court to make answer to a charge of treason exhibited against him in the name of the people of England. But being steadfast in his refusal to —’
‘It’s a lie!’ shouted Venetia, before she could stop herself. ‘Not a half – not a quarter of the people of England!’
And, quick as a flash from the opposite gallery, Lady Fairfax yelled, ‘Oliver Cromwell is a traitor!’
The Hall erupted into a welter of catcalls and, with rather more presence of mind than tact, Colonel Axtell barked, ‘Level your muskets! Down with the whores!’
Consternation verging on panic swept through the female population of both galleries. Isabel hissed that Venetia was endangering them all and someone behind poked her angrily in the back. The ladies around Anne Fairfax, meanwhile, had succeeded in hustling her from her seat and she swept out without a backward glance. Venetia shook Isabel’s hand from her arm and restored her attention to the proceedings below.
Despite the near-chaos, Bradshaw was still speaking and had announced that the Court would permit His Majesty to speak provided he used the time to defend himself rather than disputing the authority of the Court.
Charles shrugged slightly.
‘Since I see you will not hear anything concerning that which I thought most material for the liberty of the subject, I shall speak nothing of it. But I must tell you that, this many a day, all things have been taken away from me but that which I call more dear than my life – which is my conscience and my honour. And if I had respect for my life more than the peace of the Kingdom, I should have made a particular defence for myself – for by that, at least, I might have delayed an ugly sentence which I believe will pass upon me. Now, sir. I conceive that a hasty sentence once passed may sooner be repented than recalled. Therefore I desire, before sentence be given, that I may be heard in the Painted Chamber before the Lords and Commons. This delay cannot be prejudicial to you, whatsoever I say – though, if it be reason, I am sure it is well worth the hearing. But if I cannot get this liberty, I do here protest that so fair shows of liberty and peace are pure shows and not otherwise – since you will not hear your King.’
‘This is a further declining of the jurisdiction of this Court,’ observed the Lord President coldly. ‘And it is not that they will not hear the King. They have patiently waited your pleasure for three Courts together. But this tends to further delay. You would offer to speak to the Lords and Commons – yet your offer there must needs be in delay of justice here. This Court is resolved for sentence.’
The shuffling and fidgeting that had been going on for some moment on the benches to Bradshaw’s left suddenly exploded into a full-scale commotion as one of the Commissioners shouted, ‘Have we hearts of stone? Are we men?’
Venetia sat up straight and craned her neck to get a better look at the turbulent gentleman whose fellows were struggling to keep in his seat.
‘No!’ he panted. ‘If I die for it – I must do it!’
‘What ails you Downes?’ Lieutenant-General Cromwell dropped a hand on the younger man’s shoulder and growled audibly, ‘Are you mad? Can you not sit still and be quiet?’
Downes shook him off.
‘Sir – no. I can’t be quiet. Lord President – this Commissioner is not satisfied!’
There was a sudden confused chorus of ‘Let the King be heard!’ and ‘Cromwell is a traitor!’ punctuated with a stentorian command of ‘Silence in the Court!’ And, over it all, Downes shouted, ‘I’m not satisfied to give my consent to this sentence and have reasons to offer against it.’
Glaring irritably at him, Lord President Bradshaw snapped, ‘If any member of the Court be unsatisfied, then the Court must adjourn —’
His remaining words were lost amidst a fresh outburst of catcalls and stamping.
Venetia leaned back in her seat while the King was removed and the Court below slowly cleared. Her eyes were bright and, for the first time in days, she was laughing. She said, ‘A weak link in Noll Cromwell’s chain? God bless him, whoever he is. He
’s a brave man.’
‘He’s a fool,’ said Isabel curtly. ‘That little display will make no difference whatsoever.’
‘Perhaps not,’ agreed Venetia, rising to go and smiling grimly at Kate Newburgh. ‘But there are times when the important thing is to have tried.’
It was cold outside with the promise of snow. Venetia was not sorry when Isabel announced her intention of going home rather than stand around freezing to death. For herself, nothing would have induced her to leave without seeing the outcome of the day; and so she clutched her cloak tightly about her and passed the next hour pacing up and down New Palace Yard with Kate until the Sergeant-at-Arms announced that the Court was to resume its session.
Commissioner Downes had not returned with the rest. Venetia and her ladyship exchanged apprehensive glances … and the Lord President commenced his address to the King.
‘Sir,’ he said. ‘The return I have to you from the Court is this. Notwithstanding what you have offered, they are resolved to proceed to punishment and judgement. And that is their unanimous resolution.’
A wave of mute restlessness flowed over the spectators and, for a moment, the King made no reply. Then, in a tone of arid composure, he said, ‘I know it is in vain for me to dispute. I am no sceptic to deny the power that you have. I know you have power enough. I think it would have been for the Kingdom’s peace if you had taken pains to show the lawfulness of your power.’ He paused. ‘I have been here now, I think, a week. But a little delay of a day or two further may give peace; whereas a hasty judgement may bring on that trouble to the Kingdom which the child that is unborn may yet repent. And therefore again, I do desire that I may be heard by the Lords and Commons.’
Bradshaw dismissed him with a shrug.
‘Sir, you have been already answered. The Court now requires to know whether you have any more to say for yourself before they proceed to sentence.’
