The cottager looked at the coin in some bewilderment, then he looked at the horseman.
'Aye, it will that. But the varmint still deserves a beating, and it would be a shame if 'ee were to get off wi'out it.'
'If you accept the money the loss is mine, and I will attend to the punishment.'
The man took the coin, and after slowly and, it seemed, regretfully buckling on his belt, he turned away. With a few backward glances, he moved off, and the horseman sat motionless watching him out of sight.
'Thank you, sir, for saving me,' said Caroline in a low voice. She had still not recovered from her fright, and was trembling. The rider looked down at her, and smiled.
'I too have been in sore enough straits to have to steal my breakfast.' He dismounted, and tied his horse to a near-by tree.
'Have you had enough to eat, of peas and gooseberries?'
His eyes twinkled, and Caroline lost her fear, and smiled back.
'I have had more than enough of those, sir, but I confess I could still eat of something else.'
'Then let us see what is left.'
*
He took a packet from his saddle bag. He brought it over to a grassy bank at the side of the road. It had stopped raining now, but the grass was wet, so he spread out his cloak, and motioned Caroline to be seated. He sat down beside her, and undid the packet to reveal some pasties. He handed one to Caroline, put the rest beside her, and bade her eat her fill. Then he lay back on the bank and closed his eyes.
Caroline munched away till she was replete, and meanwhile studied her rescuer.
He was a man in his mid-twenties, tall, slim, but broad shouldered and muscular.
His hair was dark and long, and he was dressed in light brown breeches with a darker brown coat trimmed with black embroidery. His shirt was snowy white and had a large lace collar, and there were deep lace edges to the sleeves. His hat, which he had thrown to one side, was of a sort she had not seen previously.
It was much flatter than the usual steeple crowned one favoured by the Puritans, had a wide brim turned up at one side, and a brightly coloured feather stuck into it at a jaunty angle.
The face in repose was smooth and clear cut, with a proud nose, a high forehead, finely pencilled eyebrows, and a sensitive mouth. His hands were long and slender, but hard and sunburned. He looked as though he led an outdoor life.
Suddenly, as though aware of the close scrutiny he was being subjected to, he opened his eyes and smiled up at Caroline.
His eyes were a brilliant blue, and Caroline had the strange feeling she had seen them before. But she was not allowed to ponder on this, for he sat up and asked whether she had finished. She nodded, shyly, and he began to question her.
'How came you to be wandering alone at such an hour, and, it would seem, far from home?'
Caroline hesitated. She did not dare confide too much of her story to anyone.
'I ran away from home,' she said at last. 'They ill-treated me – my aunt and uncle, and I was trying to get to London.'
'Where are your parents?'
'They – they died when I was small.'
'This aunt and uncle have brought you up?'
'Yes. At least, this aunt has only been married to my uncle for a year, and she had a son, so I am no longer my uncle's heir – ' Caroline stopped herself just in time from saying heiress. She was forgetting her dress.
'And so you were disinherited?'
'Yes. There was no future for me there, so I decided to leave.'
'What awaits you in London? Have you anyone to go to?'
Caroline was reluctant to tell the stranger too much of her affairs, so she answered slowly, 'I was hoping to get work there.'
'So you set off to walk to London?'
'No, sir, I had my horse, and plenty of food to last me till I reached there. But yesterday, while I was sleeping in a wood, my horse and all my belongings were stolen, so I had to walk, and I had only a few pennies.'
'Therefore you had to steal?'
'I did try to get work. Last night I asked at a cottage for work in exchange for a meal, but the old woman drove me away, and I did not dare to try my luck again. I had just the one small meal yesterday, and by this morning I was desperate, which is how you came to find me as you did – an unsuccessful thief!'
'What sort of work can you do?'
'I – I had not thought so far ahead. I don't know.'
'You seem strangely unprepared for a life of adventure,' the man remarked drily. 'Can you read and write?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Then you may find work as a clerk. Can you look after horses?'
'Yes. I have often looked after my own, and I know them well.'
The man fell silent, and looked in front of him for a long time. Caroline thought he had forgotten her, but he turned to her at last.
'I can offer you some work helping me. I have many letters to write, and you could also help with the horses. I am on my way to London, where I propose staying for some time. Will you come with me, and work for me for a while, until you find something more permanent?'
Caroline was overjoyed at this good fortune.
'Oh, sir! That would be wonderful. May I really come with you? I confess I have been frightened, travelling alone. I will work as hard as you wish, if only you will take me safely to London!'
'Then that is settled. First we must get you a horse. My mare is tired, as I have been travelling all night, but I am nearly at my destination, and she will carry us both that short distance.'
Caroline's face lit up with joy, and the man was surprised at the change in her. When he had first seen her she had been terrified, tired and hungry. Now she recovered her normal cheerful manner, and this, with the freedom of her boy's attire gave her a distinct puckish charm.
'What shall I call you?' asked the man, breaking in on her thoughts.
'My name is C – ' began Caroline, then stopped, suddenly aware of her breeches.
She must not let him guess that she was a girl, and she had nearly given herself away.
Fortunately she recalled that Caroline was the feminine of Charles, and she went on, 'I am Charles.'
The man did not appear to have noticed her hesitation.
'I am Phillipe, Comte de St Martin,' he told her.
'Are you French? You do not sound foreign.'
'My father was French, but my mother was Irish, and I have lived much of my life in England. I was born and brought up here.'
She smiled at him shyly, suddenly not knowing what to say, and he turned and busied himself with the mare, then, mounting, he helped her to scramble up behind him, and they set off down the road.
*
Chapter 6
They had only two miles to go. Very shortly after resuming the interrupted journey, the Comte turned the mare into a narrow lane, and half a mile along this they reached the edge of a park, bounded by a high wall. After following the wall for some way, they came to a gateway, and here the keeper was obviously expecting the Comte. He had the gate open before they reached it, and was doffing his cap to the Comte, at the same time looking curiously at Caroline.
'Good morning, Jervis.'
'Good morning, your lordship. I am glad to see you safely back.'
'As I am glad to be here. This is Charles, a newly acquired page of mine.'
'How do ye?' The keeper turned to Caroline, giving her a long stare, till she felt herself blushing. She muttered a reply, and was thankful when the Comte distracted the man's attention.
'Have there been many visitors this way, Jervis?'
'Aye, most of the usual ones have been around, though I did hear that Mr Boscombe was detained. He didn't come here last time, in any event.'
'Poor Boscombe. Perhaps someone will have news of him. I will see you again before I go, Jervis. I expect to be here for two or three days.'
The Comte urged the mare to one more effort, and they rode for a short distance through parkland, until they came to the top of a slight ris
e, and there before them were laid out the gardens of a delightful manor house. The house itself was built in the old style, black and white timber framed, low and rambling, with small leaded windows and high chimneys. The gardens were laid out in the formal patterns of the previous century, edged with box, and to the left of the house, an avenue of elms bordered the drive to the main gate, while some way off to the right, farm buildings could be seen.
The Comte paused briefly to view the peaceful scene, then he took the tired mare through to the stables, where the men welcomed him as a familiar visitor.
Caroline jumped down, and the Comte dismounted. One of the grooms took the horse, the Comte beckoned to Caroline to follow him, and led the way towards the house. As they reached a side door it opened abruptly, and a young woman of about twenty-three or four emerged. With no ceremony, she ran to the Comte, and threw her arms round his neck.
'Phillipe, ah Phillipe, I am so glad to see you. It has been so long, and I have been so distracted about you! Mon Dieu, where have you been? Why did you not write? You are bad, to allow me to worry so. But now you are here, and I am going to keep you here, and I will not let you go again! No! Whatever your excuses you are not going to leave me again!'
Laughing, the Comte disentangled himself from her embrace, and held her at arm's length while he looked long at her.
'You seem in glowing health, my dear, despite your protestations over my absence.'
'Poof! My cheeks are red because I am so happy to welcome you back. If you had come across me a few days ago, when I did not expect you, it would have been to find me wan and pale, with no spirit in me.'
'That I find difficult to believe, my dear.'
'Oh, so now you call me a liar?' The lady pouted, but smiled again as the Comte took her arm and turned her towards the house.
'I shall call you even harder things if I am not fed and rested at once. I have been travelling all night, and apart from your welcome, all I need is some food and a bed.'
'Phillipe, forgive me! I was so overcome by your arrival I quite forgot you have had a long journey. Come in now, there is a meal ready. Old Kate has been up half the night preparing your favourite dishes, and I swear there is enough for twenty of you.'
'Good, then my page here can share some of it, for I warrant he is starving again.'
'Who? Your page? I did not know you had a page.' She turned smiling eyes on Caroline. 'Why, welcome, boy. I am afraid I was so taken up with my brother I did not realise you were here. How long have you had a page, Phillipe, and is it wise?'
'I but recently acquired Charles, and as for the wisdom, I can assure you I know full well what I am doing. Do not worry, Marguerite.'
After a steady look at the Comte, the lady shrugged, and then, with another smile for Caroline, led them into the house.
*
Caroline was too tired to take much notice of the interior of the house or the meal. She was thankful to have some hot food, but was not particularly hungry, and ate little of the various dishes that were set before her. Afterwards she was shown to a small room adjoining that of the Comte, and she slept at once, in a bed for the first time in four days.
It was late in the afternoon when she awoke, and she lay for several minutes idly wondering where she was, but with a new feeling of peace and safety. Then she remembered the events of the last few days. She was a good part of the way towards London, and now had a protector, so her fears about getting there were set at rest. She had immediately been impressed by the Comte, his size and, strength, and the authority of his manner. She felt instinctively that to be with him was to be safe.
She began to wonder about his business. Why was he travelling at night? He was obviously a regular visitor here. She recalled the odd conversation with the gatekeeper. It had been the manner of the conversation that had struck her as somewhat odd, rather than the actual words, which were commonplace enough, but she could not pin down exactly what was odd.
Suddenly a door at the side of the room opened, and the Comte appeared. She had noticed the door before dropping off to sleep, and now she realised it must communicate with his room.
'Oh, I see you are awake. Did you sleep well, after your adventures?' he asked pleasantly.
Caroline smiled at him. 'Yes, sir, thank you.'
'Good. Do you feel ready to begin your duties? I have many letters to write before this evening.'
'Yes, sir. Of course. I will dress at once.'
'We will break our fast before beginning work. Can you find your way downstairs?'
'I think so.'
'Good. You were so weary when we arrived here I doubted whether you were truly awake by the time you came to bed.'
'I have slept ill in the woods, especially last night when it rained.'
She smiled at him, an open, friendly smile, and he was struck afresh by her charm, especially now she was rested, and had lost much of the strained look she had worn earlier that morning.
He left her, and she dressed hurriedly, and made her way to the dining hall.
Once down the stairs, there was little doubt which room to enter, for the most delicious scents of roast meats were wafting out into the hall. The Comte was already seated at the table, and he told Caroline to help herself from the sideboard loaded with dishes, and join him. While they ate, attended by just one maid, he talked of trivialities, and she did not find it difficult to reply. She was anxious about what she would say if he asked questions about her previous life, but he did not seem to care, and her confidence increased.
After the meal, they went to the Comte's room, and Caroline found quills prepared, and paper set out in readiness. She looked enquiringly at the Comte, and he smiled at her reassuringly.
'I have been used to being my own scribe,' he told her. 'Now, here is the letter for you to copy. I need fifteen copies of it, which you will do, leaving the names for me to insert later.'
'I understand, sir.'
'One thing. This is confidential information, and I expect you to divulge it to no one, here in this house, or elsewhere, later.' He took her by the shoulders, and turned her to face him, looking deep into her eyes. 'Do you give me your word?'
'I promise. You may trust me.'
The Comte smiled. 'I thought I could, even knowing so little of you.'
He turned away, and busied himself writing at another table, while Caroline began her own task. She had a neat hand, and wrote quickly, and since the letter was short, barely covering one side of a small sheet of paper, copying it did not take long. It gave details of a supper party to be held at a tavern in London two weeks hence. She could not understand why such an innocent piece of information should be confidential, until it occurred to her that perhaps it was a code letter.
She finished the copying while the Comte was still occupied with his own writing, and not wishing to disturb him, busied herself with trying to puzzle out the code, if code it were. She was frowning, and muttering possible solutions to herself when the Comte's voice broke in on her speculations.
'It means what it says.'
Caroline looked up, startled, to see him standing over her, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement.
'I – I – it seemed too unimportant to be confidential,' she explained, embarrassed at being discovered apparently trying to learn the Comte's secret.
The Comte smiled. 'These are dangerous days, and much that would have been unimportant and uninteresting before is now subjected to the greatest attention by those in authority. We have to take precautions.'
'Are you a Royalist?' Caroline asked, curious and excited at the thought of being close to those she had long admired.
'Do you want the King brought back?' The Comte asked, instead of replying.
'Oh, yes, I always have, ever since I was old enough to know about the King, wanted him to come home. My father was killed at Naseby, fighting for the King. My mother died there too.' Caroline's eyes clouded over as she thought and spoke of her parents. She had done this so rarely that she
was unused to the emotions it roused in her.
'There are many Royalists working to bring back the King. If you are going to stay with me, you ought in fairness to know my position, though I shall be in danger if you divulge it to the wrong people.'
'I will never betray you, sir,' said Caroline earnestly. 'I was desperate when you found me, and I can never repay you for rescuing me. I will keep secret all you confide in me.'
'Yes, I trust you, but for your own sake as well as the lives of others, I will not tell you more than is necessary. The Protector is so afraid of the King's return he resorts to torture when the King's agents are captured. I am working for the King, and so are many of the people you will meet while you stay with me. But one thing you must remember is that we never speak openly of our plans, for there are agents of the Parliament everywhere. So it is we must always ensure we are alone before we talk of secret matters.'
'I understand, and I will remember. But I have always wanted to help the King, and now it seems I have the opportunity to do something. I am so very glad that you rescued me from that man.'
'You will be an asset to the royal cause, I can see.' The Comte smiled at Caroline, encouraged and enchanted by her fresh enthusiasms. 'Now it is time for dinner. There will be guests here, so you will have an early opportunity of showing you can keep silent. We have been somewhat informal here this far, but as my page you will be expected to wait at table, and afterwards eat in the kitchen. It was because I wanted to keep you with me for the first day that you ate with me. Now I am afraid you must become my page in earnest, and maintain your role properly. Can you do that?'
*
The Comte had noticed Caroline's natural air of authority and acceptance when they had been served by the maids earlier. He had also noticed her excellent table manners, and assumed she came from a well-to-do household. Her speech and her writing proclaimed she had been well taught. He was not concerned about her circumstances, as there were many fugitives wandering the country, and many broken families. He accepted her story as she had told it to him, and was now instructing her in her duties so that she would not make a mistake and so call attention to herself.
Cavalier Courtship Page 8
