This time he drew her into him, holding her head to his chest and stroking her hair as she probably would do with Henry, hoping she did not sense his own fear.
‘Just a few more hours, Agnes.’
He wanted to stay, take this woman to bed, hold her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right in the morning, but he would be lying. For now, it was enough to know she was unharmed and relatively safe. He just had to return to the kitchen and keep up the pretence for a little longer.
Reluctantly, he disengaged her.
‘It would do neither of us any good for me to be found here. Try and get some rest, Agnes. You will need all your wits for the morrow.’
She shivered, and he lifted her in his arms and carried her back to the bed, pulling the covers around her. He bent and kissed her forehead, her skin warm and soft beneath his lips. She made no protest, no attempt to detain him longer, and he left her, stepping over Brown’s long legs and making his way back to his cheerless billet in the kitchen.
***
At the sight of four heavily armed troopers on the road ahead of them, Kit issued a string of colourful French expletives under his breath.
Jonathan gave him a sideways glance. ‘They’ve not seen us. What do you want to do?’
‘Let them see me. I can lead them off. You keep going,’ Kit said.
Jonathan nodded and turned his horse’s head back the way he had come. Kit waited until he was safely out of sight before spurring his horse forward. He wheeled the horse as one of the troopers caught sight of him, alerting the others, and took off across the fields, leading them away from the village and away from Jonathan.
The blood pounded in his ears and the wind blew the hat from his head. He let out a whoop. Not since Worcester had he felt the thrill of the chase. He remembered now what it meant to be alive and how very much he had missed it.
The soldiers were hard on his heels and he heard the crack of a cavalry pistol and swore as something thumped into his right arm. The reins fell from nerveless fingers and for a fleeting moment he swayed in the saddle and almost fell, but there was no time for pain. He gathered himself together, securing the reins with his good hand.
Another pistol cracked behind him and he hunkered low over the horse’s neck, bracing himself for its impact, but this time his horse took the ball, squealing and going down on its haunches before breaking into a frantic, panicked dash to escape their pursuers. Kit meshed his fingers in the animal’s mane, trying to calm it and praying to God that he kept his senses.
A massive hedge loomed ahead and he closed his eyes as the animal ran straight at it, taking it with ease. On the other side, the poor beast went down on its knees and Kit kicked himself free of the stirrups, rolling away as the horse rose unsteadily to its feet and stood with its head drooping, blowing steam in the cold air, its sides rising and falling with the exertion.
On the other side of the hedge, the troopers reined in, cursing. They couldn’t see him through the thicket and he heard swearing as they turned their horses, looking for some way around the obstacle.
Finding his own uncertain feet, Kit took a precious moment to inspect the wound the horse had sustained. It looked as if the pistol ball had scored a gash in its flank but not lodged. Nothing that a good groom couldn’t deal with. He looped the reins over the saddle and sent it on its way, with a hefty whack on its uninjured flank. It jumped forward, breaking into a canter and he hoped that the troopers would follow the horse.
The warm stickiness of blood ran down Kit’s arm and he peered ineffectually at the wound. He didn’t think it was too bad, but now the chase was over it had begun to hurt like the devil and if it kept bleeding, he would freeze to death before morning. The wound needed better attention than he could provide. He pulled the cloth he had worn as a mask from around his neck and, cursing, did the best he could to tie a bandage his arm.
He considered surrender, but there was no guarantee of assistance. He dared not risk imposing on a stranger, even at the point of a gun. Peg Truscott’s isolated cottage seemed like the ideal refuge – if he could remember where it was.
Keeping to the shadows, he wound his way around the village, picking up a familiar road. The slightest lightening of the sky presaged dawn as Kit found the path leading to the little cottage. The world had begun to roar in his ears and it took all his effort to stay upright.
To his surprise, a thin light showed around the edge of the door of the cottage. The old lady was evidently an early riser, or else the soldiers had got there first. If Peg had a whole regiment of Parliament horse in her cottage, he was beyond caring. He needed shelter and he needed help. He lurched up the path and banged on the door.
‘Who’s there?’ A quavering voice came from within.
‘Mistress Truscott, I seek your aid.’ Kit leaned his forehead against the weathered wood of the door.
It swung open and Kit fell forward. Strong arms caught him as his knees buckled.
‘Need some help, there?’
At the sound of Jonathan Thornton’s calm, measured voice, Kit looked up.
‘Merde! What are you doing here? You and the gold should be halfway to Worcestershire by now.’
‘My horse caught a hoof in a pothole and went down. I managed to get it away from the road but I had to put the poor beast out of its misery.’ His lips tightened. ‘I can’t afford to lose horses and I was quite fond of that one. Don’t tell me you lost your horse too?’
‘So I got myself shot for nothing?’ Kit grumbled as his legs finally gave way and Jonathan hefted him over to a chair by the fireplace, where he collapsed gratefully into one of the cushioned chairs.
‘This is a pretty pickle,’ Jonathan remarked as he hunkered down beside Kit and began to unwind the roughly tied cloth from around his arm. ‘We’ve got the gold but no horses. Daniel and Agnes are trapped in the castle and you’re wounded.’
‘Ouch! Thornton, let the goodwife deal with the wound. I have more faith in her than you.’
Jonathan ceded his place to Peg Truscott, who tutted and clucked as she poked and prodded. ‘No ball lodged. Just needs cleanin’. Ye’ll live but ye’ve lost a deal of blood. You need to rest.’
Kit nodded, and addressing Jonathan, asked, ‘What did you do with the gold?’
A slow smile twitched at his friend’s lips. ‘I found a hiding place near where I shot the horse. Didn’t want to get caught with the gold on me and I couldn’t carry it, even I had wanted to.’
‘I hope you can find it again,’ Kit remarked drily.
‘Just have to look for a dead horse,’ Jonathan said.
Chapter 15
Agnes woke from a fitful sleep to a world still in darkness as Sarah Truscott entered the room carrying a tray from which the scent of fresh-baked bread rose.
‘You’re early,’ Agnes said.
‘Place is in uproar,’ Sarah replied. ‘Let’s get you dressed, Mistress Fletcher. The way the Colonel is rampaging around, I’ve no doubt he’ll be here soon enough.’
‘How’s the soldier who was hurt?’
‘Simpson?’ Sarah yanked on the laces of Agnes’s bodice. ‘Sore and sorry but he’ll live. Teach him to go crawling after the skirts of that hoyden.’
‘And the … intruders … they got away?’
Sarah hesitated. ‘Aye, except for the one, but you know that.’ She lowered her voice. ‘You can trust me, Mistress Fletcher. Whatever it is you are planning, I’m your friend. I’ve no love for Ashby or those Turners. You’re the rightful mistress here.’
Agnes grasped the girl’s hands. ‘Thank you, Sarah. God knows I … we need friends.’
The sound of heavy, purposeful footsteps in the corridor outside caused Agnes to stiffen. From the tongue lashing Tobias Ashby was giving Brown, he was not in a good mood. The door flung open and the Colonel stood framed in the doorway.
‘You – out,’ he said to Sarah, who bobbed a curtsey and fled.
‘It’s very early, Tobias.’ Agnes sai
d with a respectful bob of her head. ‘Have you not slept, Cousin?’
He glared at her from red-rimmed eyes. ‘No, I have not. You heard about the intruders?’
‘It was hard not to, with that stupid maid’s screams and the comings and goings all night. How is the man who was hurt?’
Tobias dismissed Simpson with a wave of his hand. ‘He’ll live.’ He advanced on her. ‘I want to know what the intruders knew that I don’t. Time you were honest with me, Mistress Fletcher.’
She met his hot, angry gaze. Beneath her ribs, her heart pounded, but she forced a calm smile.
‘I have been reflecting on our conversation of yesterday, and it is my belief that there is a secret chamber concealed in the children’s nursery.’
Ashby tossed his head. ‘Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday?’
Agnes licked her lips, their careful story was unravelling around her and the more lies she told, the harder it became. ‘Because I only remembered something James told me as I was going to bed.’
‘And what was that?’
Tobias narrowed his eyes and she swallowed. He didn’t believe her and, indeed, why should he? From his perspective the reappearance of Agnes Fletcher and the theft of the gold could not be mere coincidence.
‘When he was a child, he found the entrance to a cavity in the wall between the nursery and the chamber adjoining it. I intended to look for it this morning and come to you with the information.’
‘What sort of fool do you think I am, Agnes Fletcher? It seems somewhat coincidental that the men who came last night knew the exact location of this secret cupboard that you have only just remembered.’
Agnes swallowed. ‘Choose to believe it or not, for it is coincidence. It is entirely possible that James got a message out to them before he died,’ Agnes ventured but even to her ears, her voice lacked conviction. She had never been a good liar. ‘You yourself said there was an agent sent by the King – Charles Stuart.’
Tobias took a few steps forward until he was almost on top of her. His fingers closed around her right forearm.
‘Come with me, Mistress Fletcher, and let us find this secret cupboard together.’
Tripping over her skirts in her haste to keep stride with the man, Agnes was breathless by the time they reached the children’s nursery. Septimus Turner opened the door to them. The maid, Hannah, sat huddled by the fire, sobbing into her apron. Henry and Lizzie, still in their night clothes, huddled together in a corner of the bed, their eyes huge and their frightened gazes fixed on Leah Turner, who stood to the side of Hannah.
Turner closed the door and stood in front of it, barring any exit.
Agnes veered in the children’s direction but Tobias dragged her away.
‘You are a lying little bitch,’ he said and struck her across the face with an open-handed blow that sent her reeling to the floor. Lizzie screamed and Henry started to wail. Clutching her jaw, the world ringing in her ears, Agnes looked up into the man’s face. Two spots coloured his cheeks and his eyes glittered in the pale light of the early morning.
She rose slowly to her feet, backing away from him so she stood out of arm’s reach.
‘You,’ he indicated Hannah. ‘Tell her what you told me.’
Hannah sniffed, but the look she cast Agnes was heavy with malevolence. ‘When Simpson was ‘urt, Mistress Fletcher … she said she’d heard me screaming, but I saw her, Colonel, coming out of this room, not from the direction of her chamber. Anyway, she’d not have heard me, not all the way over there, and then Master Henry,’ Hannah pointed an accusatory finger at Henry. ‘He told me he’d seen her in the night.’
Lies beget lies, Agnes thought, her dazed mind casting around wildly for a plausible explanation. Was it too much to hope that Daniel would come bursting through the door with sword and pistol to sweep her away?
She took a deep, steadying breath. No one would be bursting through the door. Just as it had been all her life, she was on her own.
She looked from one to the other and said in a clear, steady voice. ‘It’s true. I did come here last night. Very late, after everyone was asleep, including that useless man you left outside my room. I knew I only had a few more hours with the children and I wanted to just sit with them.’ Her voice wavered, the emotion coming naturally. ‘I pulled the curtains around the bed and I was just sitting there … ’
‘Just sitting there?’ Tobias expostulated.
‘Yes, just sitting with the children. I heard the door open and I was afraid it might be –’ she stopped herself before she said “you”. ‘I … I didn’t want to be discovered so I hid under the bed.’
Tobias frowned and she sensed him wavering. Her story had seemed plausible enough to anyone who knew her as he did. ‘So what did you see?’
‘Three men – or at least the feet of three men. I dared not move to get a better view. They knew exactly where to go and what they were looking for. They were in and out in bare minutes and then there was an altercation in the corridor. Someone was hurt and that girl,’ she looked at Hannah, ‘screaming like a fishwife. I waited until I thought it safe and came out. I had hoped no one had seen me. Sitting with the children seemed a foolish, sentimental thing to do … ’ Tears welled in her eyes.
Tobias cleared his throat and his shoulders relaxed. Was it possible he had begun to believe her? All she had to do was stick to her story and hope he would let her leave.
He gestured at the room. ‘So if you know where the entrance to this hidden cavity is, you had better show me now.’
‘Behind the tapestry,’ Agnes said.
Tobias turned to face the tapestry, hauling it off its rings. The ancient material ripped as it fell to the ground in a cloud of dust. He stood with his hands on his hips, studying the old wainscoting.
‘So how do you get in?’
Agnes shook her head. ‘I didn’t see.’
Tobias felt along the panelling, pressing corners and indentations, but in the end it was Leah who found the entrance, indicating the scuffed footprints on the dusty floor.
Tobias grunted, running his fingers along the panelling until he located the catch. The entrance swung open and, stooping, he looked inside. A man of his size would never have fitted through the small opening.
He swore volubly.
‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Something was here but it’s gone.’
He brushed dust from his coat sleeve and sighed heavily. ‘So they got away with the gold, but they won’t have gone far.’ He smiled without humour. ‘My men report that they managed to put a pistol ball into one of ‘em. As for you … ’
Agnes’s heart skipped a beat, and she schooled her face to remain unconcerned.
Who had they shot?
Daniel was still within the castle so it must have been either Kit or Jonathan. Please, dear God, let them get away. Don’t let them die, she thought.
Gathering herself, she looked up at Tobias. ‘You have no evidence that I had any involvement. I have admitted to being present in the room but that was as far as it went. My time here is over. I will be leaving as soon as the horses are saddled.’
Lizzie whimpered. Tobias glared at the child with narrowed eyes and she gave a strangled sob and fell silent.
He strode over to the window and stood looking down into the courtyard.
‘I think it may be safer for you to stay a little while longer, Agnes,’ he said, his voice now a soft purr. He glanced back at her. ‘It would be irresponsible of me to allow you to travel while such ruffians are still at large.’
‘I will be quite safe. My servant –’
‘Ah, yes. Your servant, Lucas, is it? What can you tell me about him?’
She licked her dry lips. ‘I found him after you left me in London. His last employer had left England and he needed work. I could hardly ride through England as an unescorted woman. He was a good worker and he saw to my needs. I will be quite safe with him. Now, if you will excuse me, Tobias.’
She turned for the door b
ut Turner stepped in front of her, barring her way.
‘You’ll not leave until the men who stole my gold are apprehended,’ Tobias said.
Agnes turned back to face him. ‘Your gold? It is not your gold.’
He narrowed his eyes, an avaricious gleam in their depths. ‘It was on my property, therefore it is my gold.’
Agnes stared at him. ‘If you extend that logic then it is Henry’s, not yours. This is not your property and it never will be, Tobias Ashby. Everything on this land is yours only by dint of Henry’s guardianship.’
Tobias’s gaze flicked to the little boy with a look in his eyes that made her blood run cold.
‘Turner. Escort Mistress Fletcher to her bedchamber and ensure she is locked in.’
Agnes stiffened as Turner took her arm. ‘You found what you were looking for, Tobias. My obligation to you is relieved. Let me go.’
Ashby shook his head. ‘Oh no. There is far more to this tale then I am hearing and I am not convinced by your pretty little tale. Take her away, Turner, and ensure that servant of hers is suitably detained as well.’
***
Chafing with impatience, Daniel paced the kitchen, provoking uncharitable comments from the cook. Sarah had taken Agnes’s breakfast up to her but had not returned.
Something was wrong.
When the girl finally appeared at the door, breathless and her cap askew, he knew his instinct was right. She ran to him and grasped his arm, pulling him outside into the yard.
‘You’ve got to go,’ she said. ‘Turner will be here any minute to lock you up just as they’ve done Mistress Agnes. Ye’re more use to her out there then ye are here. I’ll tell her.’
Everything in Daniel’s being protested at abandoning Agnes again, but head won over heart and he barely had time to collect his few belongings before he heard the sound of heavy feet on the kitchen stairs.
Sarah waited for him in the courtyard.
‘Go to my aunt’s,’ she said. ‘I’ll come as soon as I can.’
‘My horses –’
She shook her head. ‘No time. Go, Daniel.’
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