Conspiracy of Hearts

by Helen Dickson

  Serena paused in her pacing to glare at him, relieved he had changed the subject. ‘Heaven forbid that I should be so rude. Melissa’s clothes are lovely, but I would dearly like to go out and buy my own clothes. I am in dire need of new gowns, undergarments, footwear and a host of other things important to every female.’

  Kit shrugged. ‘That’s not a problem. I know my mother would be happy to accompany you to the shops to purchase some. I may have had certain properties confiscated, but I am not a poor man. Just tell me how much money you will need and I will cover the expense.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Serena answered, her eyes keen and alert. ‘But I do have the means with which to purchase my own clothes.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Yes. At least I will have when I sell the jewels I brought with me.’

  Confounded, Kit’s eyes opened wide with astonishment. ‘Jewels! The devil you have! I didn’t know you had any jewels with you.’

  Serena ignored the shocked surprise on his face that made him suddenly sit up straight with interest. ‘That’s because I didn’t tell you.’

  He eyed her dubiously. ‘They are yours?’

  ‘Of course they’re mine,’ she retorted, affronted that he might think she’d stolen them. ‘One of my reasons for going to Dunedin Hall the night you found me was to get them. They were hidden in a secret drawer in a chest. Fortunately they were overlooked by the searchers. I salvaged them in the hope that I could sell them to pay for my passage to Flanders. They were given to me by my father for my own personal use, but are of no great value, otherwise they would have been kept with the others that he gave to Uncle William for safekeeping.’

  Kit chuckled, unable to disguise the admiration for her in his dancing eyes. ‘You are a woman of many surprises, Serena. But don’t you want to keep them—for sentimental reasons, if nothing else?’

  ‘No,’ Serena replied frankly. ‘They’re of no use to me and I don’t want them. I would rather have the money instead.’

  ‘You sound quite the little mercenary.’

  ‘Do I?’ she answered coolly, turning her hard green eyes on him. ‘Perhaps that’s because at this moment in my life—with my home confiscated, a Jesuit priest for a brother who will be hunted down and hanged if he dares to set foot on English soil, and a father who is a fugitive abroad—I have discovered that money is an extremely important commodity to help me get to Flanders. Without it I would be forced to ask you for a loan.’

  ‘And I would be more than happy to oblige—be it for pretty gowns or a passage to Flanders.’

  Serena looked at him a little petulantly. ‘I thought you didn’t want me to go.’

  ‘I don’t. But I will not stop you, Serena. Despite my own selfish reasons for wanting to keep you here with me, I do realise that you must go to your father. And, as you so bluntly pointed out earlier, I have the serious business of clearing my name of the crime for which I have been charged to attend to—which means I shall have to return to London. But it would be a shame to sell your jewels. I would be happy to give you the money you need.’

  ‘No, Kit. Your offer is generous, but I cannot accept it. Forgive me if I seem ungrateful, but please understand that I would feel uncomfortable if you paid for my clothes. I am beholden to your mother enough as it is for letting me stay here. I have no wish to be beholden to you as well.’

  ‘Beholden? What a strange woman you are, Serena. However, I have no wish for you to feel beholden to me either—for anything,’ Kit said, clearly at pains to control his mirth.

  ‘Good. And don’t mock me,’ Serena reproached, glaring at the wicked humour she saw dancing in his dark eyes. ‘I am serious. Will you sell my jewels for me? You will know who will give me the best price for them. If you think it unwise to go yourself in case you are recognised, then perhaps someone else could go.’ She frowned crossly when she saw Kit trying to stifle his amusement. ‘Please, Kit. Do not hinder me in this. If you do, I shall be forced to take to the streets and sell my own jewels.’

  Kit laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. Standing up, he moved towards her, hooking his thumbs into his belt and peering down at her. ‘All right, Serena. I give in. I can see you will give me no peace until I agree to do as you ask. Go and fetch them and let me see.’

  Kit obliged Serena by selling her jewels for a good price. With the proceeds she was able to purchase some new clothes and had a considerable amount of money left over.

  Serena drafted a letter to her father, finding it a laborious task having to explain why she’d felt she’d had no alternative but to leave Carberry Hall, telling him of Sir Thomas Blackwell’s assault on her person, and that because of his own involvement in the Gunpowder Plot, it was likely she would be arrested in its wake. She begged his understanding and asked him to give his permission for her to travel to him in Flanders. Kit had the letter dispatched along with his own with a sea captain at Leith, who was to sail for the Low Countries any day.

  Accompanied by Lady Mary, Serena went shopping, taking pleasure in indulging in something so light-hearted and frivolous after weeks of anxiety. Not that her anxieties were any less, but they were lightened by this simple pleasure.

  Over the days they were together, and while they waited for Melissa to return from Perth, Lady Mary showed Serena some of the sights of Edinburgh, which held her enthralled. It was a noble, rich and still-royal city, even after King James had removed himself and his court to England two years previously, on succeeding to the English throne on the death of Queen Elizabeth.

  Melissa, a dark-haired lively girl, with striking features and a pleasant dispositon, eventually returned to Edinburgh and was delighted to meet Serena. She was full of enthusiasm about her blossoming relationship with the young gentleman who had been the cause of her extended visit to Perth. Overshadowing the joy Melissa felt on being reunited with Kit was the concern and distress she shared with her mother about his assumed involvement in the Gunpowder Plot, which hung like a pall over them all and created a tension felt by the whole household.

  Not a man given to idleness, this time of inactivity chafed against Kit’s patience. With the utmost discretion he took to riding far afield to visit trusted friends in Perth and Stirling to the north, where he indulged in his favourite pastimes of hunting the red deer and fishing in the wide Highland rivers. The time he was away offered Serena and Kit some respite from each other, for it was becoming increasingly difficult for them both being together so much, each conscious of the other’s tightly veiled feelings and passions.

  News reached Edinburgh about the conspirators of the Gunpowder Plot being held in the Tower in London, of how they were being tortured to extract information out of them, but it was not until Sir Ludovick at last came to Scotland in March that they heard the full story. With Melissa and Lady Mary, Serena had been absent from the house for several hours, and on entering the hall Kit met them, his features grave.

  ‘Ludovick has arrived in Edinburgh,’ he told them. ‘After coming here he returned to his lodgings, but he is to return later for supper. The good news is that Robin has been released from his captivity in the Tower and is here with him.

  He suffers no ill effects other than a loss of weight, owing to the poor diet.’ Kit’s gaze focused on his sister and Serena, whose eyes flew to his imploringly, desperate to know what news Sir Ludovick had brought—the news of Robin’s release planting hope within her breast. ‘I would like to speak to my mother alone for a few moments.’

  ‘But I—’

  ‘I’ll speak to you in a short while, Serena. Go with Melissa and tidy yourself. I’ll have one of the maids summon you presently.’

  With that Serena had to be content, but as soon as the maid knocked on her door she went straight down, finding Kit alone in a small parlour. He was standing by the window, staring out unseeingly at the darkening garden beyond. His grim expression boded ill.

  ‘Come in, Serena,’ he said when she entered.

  Closing the door behind h
er Serena hesitated, and after a moment Kit turned and went to the fire, hands behind his back and his eyes focused on the flames with concentrated deliberation. It struck Serena that the news Sir Ludovick had brought troubled him greatly. He looked up and beckoned her to the fire.

  ‘Come and sit down. We have much to discuss.’

  Serena went towards him but did not sit down, too apprehensive about what he was about to tell her to sit still. Wringing her fingers with an increasing disquiet she was attentive, watching him with worried eyes. His expression was neutral, but she was assailed by a sudden sense of dread and her stomach contracted with foreboding.

  ‘What news is there from London, Kit?’ she asked when she could stand it no longer. ‘Have all the conspirators been captured?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes. And dealt with.’

  Serena felt all the blood drain out of her face, imagining their awful suffering. ‘How many were there?’

  ‘Eight were condemned, but there were thirteen all told. Five died during capture. The executions took place on two consective days, the first on the thirtieth of January. The bodies of Catesby and Thomas Percy, killed during the raid on Holbeach House, have been exhumed from their Midland graves and their heads are being exhibited at the corners of Parliament House.’

  ‘Which they planned to blow up,’ whispered Serena. ‘How ironical.’

  ‘In addition to the plotters, several leading Catholic peers and the earl of Northumberland, who all had embarrassing connections to the abortive plot, have also been taken to the Tower—along with some Jesuit priests who, according to Robin, fare much worse. Without pity they have been put to the torture in order to gain information about the recusant safe houses where Catholic families harboured and protected them—houses which remain unknown to the authorities.’

  ‘Then God help them,’ Serena whispered. ‘For them there will be no reprieve at the end either. And the others—the servants and relatives of the plotters who were connected, but had no part in its inner workings? What has happened to them?’

  ‘For some the horrors are not over. When Ludovick left London at the end of February, people were still being taken into custody.’

  ‘What will happen, do you think, to the Catholic peers who have been arrested—who were inadvertently drawn in?’

  ‘To get back into the king’s good graces they will no doubt have to pay enormous fines and undergo a spell of imprisonment.’

  ‘Do you believe I did the right thing in leaving Carberry Hall, Kit?’

  He sighed. ‘As to that, you will have to make up your own mind. The English recusant community is suffering the relentless investigations by the authorities they have feared for so long. The authorities seek information regarding the conspirators, but there is a high degree of malice in the way they are going about it.

  ‘Several people have also benefited out of the Gunpowder Plot. By implicating those they believe were connected to the plot to the earl of Salisbury, some have been rewarded with the properties of those they accused.’ He looked purposefully and steadily at Serena, the expression in his eyes grave. ‘Which could happen in Blackwell’s case.’

  A feeling of doom descended on Serena’s already disquieted spirit. ‘But surely Sir Thomas has achieved his aim by implicating you. What else has he gained from his malicious conniving and lying?’

  ‘As yet nothing is certain, but he is hoping to acquire Dunedin Hall—at least, what is left of it, and the land that goes with it,’ Kit said quietly.

  Serena stared at him, unable to comprehend any of this. ‘What is left of it? What are you saying?’

  ‘Serena…on the night we left, Dunedin Hall caught fire and was almost gutted.’ He sighed, taking her trembling hand in his own. ‘I am truly sorry, believe me.’

  Overcome by a deep sadness, this final tragedy affected Serena greatly. ‘Fire? But—how did it happen?’

  ‘Who knows? A candle left burning, a lantern. This has come as a blow to you, but it may help when I tell you that for some reason the king seems reluctant to bestow the property on Blackwell—who, it would seem, continues to suffer greatly from the wound I inflicted on him.’

  ‘I should have known he would do this,’ Serena said with deep bitterness. ‘The boundaries of the Blackwell estate adjoin our own. Not being so well off and spending so much of his time breeding horses, some of my father’s land became neglected. Sir Thomas’s father tried persuading him to sell him some on numerous occasions, but my father always refused. If the king grants Sir Thomas his request, then he will have profited greatly. Has his marriage to Dorothea taken place?’

  ‘Apparently so—before the new year.’

  ‘And—and do you know if she is happy?’

  ‘According to Ludovick she is.’

  ‘I see. It would seem Sir Thomas’s manners towards my cousin differ greatly from his manners towards myself.’ Taking a deep breath, Serena looked up at Kit. So far she had been too afraid of what he would tell her to ask the question uppermost in her mind, but it could not be avoided. ‘And what news of yourself, Kit? What had Sir Ludovick to tell you?’

  Kit let go of her hand and combed his fingers through his hair, moving away from her. ‘He was granted an audience with the king, who, it appears, was always uneasy about my arrest. But having taken swift and punitive action and ordering the arrest of anyone who carried the slightest suspicion of being involved with the conspirators, there was little he could do. However, nothing has been proved against me.

  ‘Under interrogation Robin told them the absolute truth when he was questioned about my actions running up to the plot’s discovery. He also told them about my association with Catesby and other conspirators. Mercifully he was not put to the torture. None of the plotters or priests tortured, confessed my name or incriminated me in any way—not even in the course of their conversations, which were secretly overheard.’

  Serena’s relief was enormous. ‘But this is good news, Kit.

  If there is no evidence to substantiate the charge of treason it will be dropped.’

  Kit nodded. ‘Maybe. The king assured Ludovick that I will be given a fair trial when I return.’

  ‘Does he know you are in Scotland?’

  ‘Yes. When nothing was heard as to my whereabouts, he suspected all along that this was where I’d flown.’

  ‘Are you likely to be arrested?’

  ‘Not if I return to London of my own free will.’

  ‘And will you?’

  ‘Yes. I must.’

  ‘And what of my father? Had Sir Ludovick anything to tell you?’

  ‘Yes. He is one of several incriminated in the conspiracy who sought sanctuary abroad, and happily remain outside the long arm of the law. Salisbury would like to have them taken back to England for trial, but the archdukes are reluctant to extradite them.’

  ‘Then I shall have to go to him. I am left with little choice. If he has been branded a traitor, according to custom where traitors’ families are concerned, I shall be pursued and humiliated. Anything my father left behind will be seized and confiscated to pay the enormous fines which will be imposed on him. Thankfully he did prepare himself for just such an event. In England he is not a rich man, but he has money and investments put away abroad for his relief.’

  ‘Then he will not be entirely destitute. Naturally he is wanted for questioning—but the plotters refused to incriminate him. On being questioned, each one told their interrogators that Sir Henry was told the horses they purchased from him were to be used for the purpose of raising a troop of horse to send to the Spanish Netherlands, and nothing more.’

  ‘And did the interrogators believe this?’

  Kit shrugged. ‘Whether they believed it or not, your father is still wanted for questioning.’

  ‘Then I pray he stays in Flanders where he is safe. In any case, he has no home to come back to—and James will have need of him. Does Sir Ludovick know where he is?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How did
he find out?’

  ‘By making a few discreet enquiries among his friends. The network of spies spread abroad also revealed his whereabouts.’ Kit studied her closely. ‘He is staying at the home of a close friend. Do you know who she is, Serena?’

  Serena looked at him sharply and nodded, her throat constricting painfully. ‘Yes. Mrs Davis.’

  ‘A lady he has since married,’ Kit told her quietly, moving to a table beside the door and picking up a sealed letter, one of two lying there unopened. Bringing it to where she stood, he handed it to her. ‘This has just arrived. I have one, too. They’re from Flanders—from your father. No doubt he has explained everything in his letter.’

  The small room seemed to surge with the sensation of the pronouncement. Serena had listened to Kit as though in a dream, a nightmare, scarcely able to grasp the reality of it. So her father had married Mrs Davis after all. This was just what she had feared. She stared down at the letter in shocked dismay, both saddened and disappointed by this unfortunate turn of events. Desperately she raised her eyes to Kit’s, shaking her head and biting her trembling lip tearfully.

  ‘But he can’t have married her. It can’t be true.’

  ‘I’m afraid it is. According to the information Ludovick has managed to glean, your father has no intention of ever returning to England.’ Watching her with a sombre gaze, Kit missed nothing. He realised by the pained look in her eyes just how much she was hurting inside, and he knew, at last, the reason why she had been hell-bent on going to her father. It was clear to him that this news of his marriage was most unwelcome and that she was displeased by it.

  ‘Come—don’t despair,’ he said quietly, understanding her misery and longing to draw her into his arms to ease her pain. ‘Why do you consider it such a bad thing that your father has married this Mrs Davis? Has she given you reason to dislike her?’