Conspiracy of Hearts

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Conspiracy of Hearts Page 19

by Helen Dickson


  He drew her closer, his lips tenderly brushing her cheek, feeling his pulse quicken. He told himself to let her go, that he should turn aside and release her with a commonplace remark and repress the desire racing through him, but blood was pounding in his temples and he was like a man besieged by a dizziness on the edge of a precipice.

  ‘Have you any idea what it’s like for me, being with you day after day, night after night, knowing you are so close and not being able to touch you? You affect me deeply, my love. I have developed a patience I didn’t know I possessed. There is something magical and tantalising about you—a dark, sultry promise which emanates from you like a sensuous aura that has held me in its thrall from the very first.’

  Kit’s voice was low, urgent and compelling, and Serena felt a flame within her flicker to life and go coursing through her veins like liquid fire. Suddenly his mouth clamped down on to hers once more in fiery demand. Her mouth became yielding, soft and pliant as it was seized with a passion that took her breath away. Kit’s lips were greedy, taking anything that she gave, his arms refusing to let her go, and Serena felt herself pressing herself against him, consumed by him. He aroused yearnings inside her that were completely alien to her maidenly heart.

  It was Kit who finally raised his head and drew back a little, a tormenting hunger in his eyes when he gazed down at her. ‘Sweet mercy, what have you done to me? How can I be content after a kiss like that? I can think of nothing except my need for more.’

  Putting a finger to his lips, Serena’s eyes had increased to a luminous intensity. ‘No, Kit,’ she said, her voice hardly above a whisper. ‘This will serve no purpose. It will destroy what we have. If I come to your bed now, the pain of our parting will be too great for me to bear.’

  ‘It needn’t be like that.’

  ‘It will be. If we were to become lovers, what do you think would happen then? I would be unable to leave you. It would be impossible—and I would lose all respect for myself…and for you, too, perhaps.’

  Kit’s eyes locked on to hers and his breathing slowed. ‘I want you, Serena—and I know you want me. I’ve had you close by me these past weeks and you have roused me to heights of such torment I thought I could not endure it. But, God help me, I shall not force you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Serena whispered. His eyes were filled with such weariness that she was deeply shaken. ‘I fear that my will would not be strong enough to resist you.’

  ‘And nothing I can say will persuade you to remain in England—or Scotland, for that matter?’ he asked, tracing the line of her jaw with his finger. ‘Wherever we happen to be?’

  Serena caught his hand for it weakened her beyond measure. ‘No. I can’t, Kit. For pity’s sake, if you have any feeling for me at all, please do not ask me again. Can’t you see that I have no choice? We have been alone too long, you and I. What you feel is frustrated desire and nothing more. We are friends. If we become lovers it will spoil everything.’

  Kit’s eyes were dark with torment. ‘That’s nonsense. It will never be like that between us.’

  ‘I will not take the risk,’ Serena said heavily, easing herself away from him, and as she did so Kit could feel her tension tinged with sadness and regret. Each word she uttered felt like a ramrod being thrust down the barrel of a musket. Her misty green eyes mirrored his own sense of pain and impending loss.

  Without another word Serena turned and fled from him, trembling and shaken, afraid of where her passion had been about to lead her. She knew what Kit wanted, and she was ashamed that it presented some temptation. But if she did yield herself to him and they became lovers, where would it lead? she asked herself. Unable to tear themselves apart, they would stay at Addlington Hall where they would indulge themselves in a torrid love affair, which would serve no purpose to either of them.

  And how long would it last? A week—a month? And then what would she be left with? Kit had not suggested marriage. He had told her at the beginning of their journey together that he wanted no encumbrances, nothing to get in the way of his one objective, which was to clear his name of the accusations made against him. But how was she to endure the time they were forced to remain together when she wanted him so much?

  With tensed jaw, but making no attempt to follow her, wretchedly Kit stood and watched her go, controlling himself with an effort of will which whitened the knuckles of his hands clenched by his sides. He was shocked to discover how close he had come to losing his self-control, having vowed that his passion, his need, for this woman, his emotions, would never be allowed to get the better of him. At least, not until he had brought honour back to his name and he had something to offer her.

  But without her the future yawned before him as dark and cold as the Atlantic Ocean. A gnawing emptiness filled the centre of his being and nothing in the world could ever fill that gap. After a moment he followed her, clinging on to what remained of his sanity like a drowning man might cling to his one hope of delivery.

  Kit made no further moves to draw Serena close. He neither spoke of it nor gave any indication that he remembered it, remaining aloof and unemotional at all times—but the truth of it was that it was the only way he had of keeping a grasp on his sanity.

  Eventually the snow melted enough for them to leave for Edinburgh, Scotland’s capital city to the north. The journey would be extremely punishing and treacherous in places with flood waters after the snow having filled the rivers and streams to overflowing.

  The first night of their journey was spent at Minton Hall, Kit’s family home at Coldstream; they left early the following morning. Kit had undertaken the journey several times in the past, so he was familiar with the terrain and hostelries. He knew the uplands and each twisting pass well, but it was a route which would not be advisable for anyone to take who was not familiar with it.

  On reaching Scotland’s capital city it was nightfall and they had been in the saddle since the grey light of dawn. Edinburgh Castle, built on sheer cliffs and dominating the town with its massive structure, could be seen as a dark and ghostly shape through the driving rain. The cold and damp invaded their clothes and seeped into their weary bodies.

  Lady Mary, Kit’s mother, rented a large establishment in the Canongate, amidst other aristocratic dwellings in that narrow thoroughfare. The spacious, well-sited gardens at the back led down to Holyrood Park and looked up to the great crag of Arthur’s Seat. In a bedraggled and exhausted state, Kit and Serena presented themselves at the house to an astonished and extremely surprised Lady Mary.

  She received them without fuss, but her relief on seeing the son she believed was incarcerated in the Tower in London was immense. The depth of love she felt for this tall, handsome man could be discerned deep in her dark eyes, which were so like his. Serena had been a little sceptical about meeting Lady Mary, but soon began to relax, realising that she was a woman with a strong personality, practical and forthright. In her early fifties, she was maturely beautiful, in a quiet, assured way, being tall and slender, dark-haired and fine-featured.

  News of the Gunpowder Plot had reached Scotland; learning of Kit’s assumed involvement and arrest, Lady Mary had become extremely concerned and distressed. When the roads became passable she had fully intended leaving for the south to be close to him, and to take proper account of the events which had led to his arrest. Not that she would believe them. Knowing her son and his absolute loyalty to King James, she knew there must have been some mistake and that he had been falsely accused.

  ‘Come over to the fire while I order a chamber and a bath made ready for you, my dear,’ she said to Serena. ‘We must have you out of those wet clothes before you take a chill. What a night to be abroad. How far have you come?’

  ‘Originally from Warwickshire. Due to the severe weather we were forced to spend some time at Addlington Hall,’ Kit told her. ‘As soon as it was possible we set off for Edinburgh. Now I hope to meet up with Sir Ludovick Lamont, who will inform me on events in London following the arrests of the conspir
ators. I have much to tell you, Mother.’

  Lady Mary fixed her son with a steady gaze, the matter much too serious for her to become upset about any transgression in his behaviour with this young woman whom he had brought alone with him over three hundred and fifty miles to Edinburgh. ‘I am out of touch with what is happening in London, but I have heard about the wickedness of the Gunpowder Plot. But we will talk later, when you have both been taken care of. Just tell me this. Are you still in danger?’

  Their dark eyes met in grave confrontation. ‘I’m afraid so.’

  His mother nodded. ‘I thought as much.’

  After soaking in a hot tub and being provided with some of Melissa’s clothes to wear, which fitted her well and for which she was extremely grateful, Serena felt human again. The damp had seeped into the few clothes she had brought with her. Only when they had eaten and were sitting in front of a cheerful blaze, did Lady Mary allow her son to present her with the bare facts of his predicament: his assumed involvement in the Gunpowder Plot, which had resulted in Lord Carberry withdrawing Kit’s suit for his daughter’s hand in marriage.

  She listened calmly, an authoritative and assured woman, her face serene and attentive, showing nothing of the inner turmoil and distress she suffered on hearing Kit tell her all he was accused of. ‘And what did you hope to achieve by coming here? How can you hope to clear your name when you are so far away from London?’

  ‘I was given little choice. When the plot was uncovered, such a frenzy gripped everyone that if I had been re-arrested, I would have been declared guilty and hanged, such was the determination of the authorities to seek out the traitors and administer the severest punishment.’

  ‘But what could Sir Thomas Blackwell possibly have against you that would make him blacken your name so damnably?’

  Quickly Kit recounted Thomas Blackwell’s disgraceful conduct in the Low Countries and Kit’s own intervention, which had resulted in Sir Thomas’s disgrace. ‘There has also been two particularly ugly confrontations between us of late,’ he said, his eyes meeting Serena’s calmly, ‘which increased Blackwell’s determination to avenge himself. The Gunpowder Plot provided him with the ammunition to do so.’

  ‘But I cannot believe the king would listen to the malicious outpourings of this vindictive man and think you guilty of treason.’

  ‘I have no way of knowing what His Majesty thinks, but I would lose my life before betraying him. I thought I would stand a better chance of proving my innocence when I’ve gathered evidence in my defence—and when the mood of hysterical madness subsides. I must remain in Edinburgh until Ludovick arrives with news of what is happening in London—which should be any time now, roads and weather permitting.’

  Lady Mary’s eyes were drawn to Serena, who was quietly listening to Kit. One would have to be blind not to see the looks she exchanged with her son, but Lady Mary would not wonder about the depth of their relationship, or the significance of it, at present. ‘How do you come to be involved in all this, my dear?’ she asked with a gentle smile. ‘Kit mentioned that when your father left for Flanders, he left you in the care and protection of his brother at Carberry Hall. Why did you leave your uncle?’

  ‘It was my intention to go to my father.’

  ‘Alone?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But wasn’t that a reckless venture to embark upon—a young woman alone? Weren’t you afraid of the dangers?’

  ‘No, Lady Mary. The dangers that threatened me were at home and greater by far than any I would encounter on the road to Flanders.’

  ‘Perhaps I should explain to you that because of Sir Henry’s indirect involvement with the conspirators, his estate also became forfeit to the Crown,’ Kit told his mother. ‘Unfortunately, the house was ransacked and Serena herself in danger of being arrested and taken to London for interrogation—which is what has happened to the relatives and servants of the accused.’

  ‘Then how is it that Serena is here with you?’ Lady Mary asked her son pointedly. ‘What prevented her from going to her father in Flanders?’

  ‘She was being pursued by her uncle who was determined to have her brought back.’

  ‘Which was only right and proper if that was where Sir Henry wanted her to be. Surely under her uncle’s guidance and protection she would have been safe from the authorities.’

  ‘Lord Carberry would not have been able to protect her from being arrested.’

  Lady Mary looked keenly from one to the other and was not deceived. There was something they were not telling her. ‘You are keeping something from me. I can always tell, Kit.’ She looked at Serena for the answer, who met her gaze calmly.

  ‘You are right, Lady Mary,’ Serena admitted. ‘Unfortunately, it is a matter of some delicacy—and embarrassment.’

  Lady Mary raised her delicate dark brows in question. ‘To whom, Serena? You or I?’

  Serena folded her hands quietly in her lap, knowing that Lady Mary’s gentle probing would persist until she had drawn every sordid detail out of her. ‘To myself. You see, Sir Thomas is not only determined to destroy Kit, but myself also.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Because I rejected his advances.’

  ‘He wanted to marry you?’

  Serena’s lips twisted with irony. ‘Nothing so honourable, Lady Mary. Sir Thomas abhors all Catholics, and because I am of that faith he considers me fit for one thing only.’

  Lady Mary smiled softly, admiring Serena’s forthright manner. ‘You have no need to feel uncomfortable about your religion in this house, my dear.’

  Serena’s lips smiled her gratitude. ‘Thank you. You are very understanding.’

  ‘Perhaps that is because I too belong to the old faith.’

  Surprise and astonishment widened Serena’s eyes. ‘You do?’

  ‘I have been a Catholic all my life.’ Lady Mary smiled. ‘And before you ask, my husband had no objections just so long as I was quiet about it.’

  Serena relaxed and laughed lightly. ‘Isn’t that the case in every Catholic family?’ She looked to where Kit sat. ‘But—Kit—you—’

  ‘Kit and Paul took my husband’s faith, Melissa mine,’ Lady Mary explained. ‘And do not forget that Queen Anne—who made me an honoured member of her entourage during her time in Scotland—became converted to Catholicism before she left for the south.’

  ‘That I know,’ Serena said softly with a trace of reproach and a small, indignant thrust to her chin. ‘It’s a pity the king does not show the same kind of tolerance to his Catholic subjects as he does his wife.’

  ‘I understand your bitterness, Serena,’ Lady Mary said on a serious note. ‘None of it is fair. But there is something I must ask you.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Tell me more about Sir Thomas Blackwell. He seems to be a thoroughly obnoxious man.’

  ‘He is. Sir Thomas, like his father before him, is looked on as being a fine, upstanding man where I live. He is a man of wealth and property, with many connections at court.’

  ‘He also has the ear of the king’s chief minister, Robert Cecil, who is a crafty statesman par excellence, and not without malice,’ Kit went on coldly.

  Frowning, Serena glanced at him. ‘Why have you such a low opinion of Robert Cecil, Kit?’

  ‘The man’s unpopularity goes back a long time—towards the end of Elizabeth’s reign when court rivalries were bitter and destructive. A struggle for power ensued between the second earl of Essex and Robert Cecil—Essex being handsome and charming—’

  ‘And I believe the old queen doted on him,’ Serena remarked with a little smile.

  ‘Precisely. But she would not be dominated by him. When she appointed Cecil her principal secretary of state—a position Essex had hoped to secure for one of his followers—Essex grew resentful and frustrated, becoming wild and irrational and eventually breaking into rebellion. To the public he had always been a hero, and they blamed Robert Cecil for his downfall. Cecil became an object of hatred, and
after Essex’s execution he was more reviled than ever. Yet, despite the public’s profound dislike of him, his position became unassailable. With Essex out of the way, there was no one to challenge his preeminence with the Queen.

  ‘As everyone now knows, before her death he secretly entered into a correspondence with King James in Scotland, earning his gratitude by advising him on his dealings with Elizabeth, and ensuring that the transference of power went smoothly on her death when James took the throne. James was so delighted and impressed by his efficiency that there was no question of him discarding Cecil, whom he later made the earl of Salisbury.’

  ‘But he still does not rate highly in your esteem,’ stated Serena.

  ‘I admit he has a shrewd grasp of policy and is a man of untiring industry, who can justly congratulate himself for the difficult transitional period when James came to the throne. But he is a puny man with a sly sense of humour, who knows how to amuse the king—and how to manipulate him.

  ‘Cecil resents my closeness to King James, and would be eager to listen to what Blackwell had to accuse me of. My removal from court would be to his satisfaction—and not only my own, I might add. Since James took the English throne, there are those in Parliament—and many Englishmen—who harbour a strong dislike for the Scottish supporters who followed him south because he bestowed lands, houses and offices on them.’

  ‘But you have an equal measure of both Scottish and English blood flowing through your veins, and you spent a good deal of your time in the Low Countries following your military career,’ protested his mother. ‘You did become marquess of Thurlow by right.’

  ‘Nevertheless, Cecil resents the fact that I was in James’s train, and his resentment was increased when I returned from the Low Countries and my cousin died, making me his heir to Thurlow. So far Blackwell’s machinations to bring me low have gone undetected by the king, who set about with fervour to have the conspirators hounded and thrown into the Tower.’

 

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