Cavalier Courtship
Page 9
'I can do all that, sir,' she replied. 'We never had a page at my uncle's house, but I have seen them sometimes at my – at Geoffrey's house. He was a friend,' she explained hurriedly. She must be careful, she thought. There were so many ways of betraying herself.
'Good. Then we will go down, and I will hand you over to Kate – she acts as housekeeper, though she was once nurse to my sister and myself. She will look after you.'
He went out of the room, and Caroline followed, in some apprehension. Till now she had taken it for granted she would eat with the Comte, but she realised that as his page she could only do this informally, certainly not when there were visitors in the house, when the other servants would expect her to perform the duties of a page. She hoped she would prove adequate in this role.
She need not have worried. Kate, after an effusive greeting to the Comte, smilingly took the nervous page under her own wing, and assured the Comte and Caroline there was no need to worry, she would take care of everything. She was so bustlingly efficient Caroline's qualms disappeared, and she listened to Kate's instructions, which seemed very simple.
When the meal was announced, she found herself in the dining hall, standing behind the Comte's chair, and expected to help him to the food as it was taken round the table.
There were a dozen people at the dinner table. Marguerite, the pretty, vivacious hostess, was the only woman present, and her husband, whom Caroline now saw for the first time, was a quiet, good-looking man in his forties. The rest were, it appeared, neighbours from surrounding farms and manors. They seemed to know one another well, and the talk was merry and continuous. The Comte was much in demand, as it transpired that they had not seen him for some time, and he was kept busy answering enquiries about mutual friends and acquaintances. Caroline found her duties were easy and light. There were several footmen attending the guests, and she did not have much to do.
The meal did not take long. It was often the custom to sit for several hours over meals, but on this occasion the covers were removed early, and the servants left the room to go to their own supper. Caroline found this part of the ordeal greater than the ones earlier. The other servants made several enquiries of her, but her answers were so quiet and uninformative they soon left her to her own devices and chattered away amongst themselves. After they had eaten, they gathered round the big fire in the kitchen with mugs of ale, and one of them produced a lute. Soon they were all singing merrily. Kate, who was still bustling about, noticed Caroline standing hesitantly by, and told her to go to bed.
'The Comte said he would not need you again tonight. You come here again in the morning, and take up his water for shaving. Now to bed with you. I have heard how the Comte came by you, poor lad, and I doubt not you need plenty of sleep to recover from your adventures. The candles are on the table in the passage. Can you find your way?'
'Yes, thank you.' Caroline smiled at the old woman, who had treated her so kindly, and obviously adored her former charge, the Comte.
She made her way upstairs, and was soon fast asleep. Even the excitement of knowing she was working, if only in a very small way, for the King, could not keep her awake for long.
*
It was early when she awoke, and made her way downstairs. Kate was already in the big kitchen, and she greeted Caroline smilingly.
'The Comte will not be awake yet, so break your fast first. He left orders to be awoken at seven, since I believe he has much to do. But you have time to eat. Set to.'
Caroline helped herself from the plates of cold meats, and sat down at the kitchen table. Kate took a mug of ale, and sat down with her, questioning her in a friendly way. Caroline found it difficult sometimes to answer these questions about her former home, and Kate, seeing her embarrassment, good-naturedly left her to herself, for which Caroline was most grateful.
Soon after she had finished, and was wondering what she ought to do next, Kate returned and told her it was time to take up the Comte's shaving water.
'If he is asleep, he had left orders he is to be awakened, so do not be afraid to go in and rouse him.'
Caroline took the water and carefully made her way upstairs. She knocked on the door of the Comte's room, but there was no reply. She knocked again, louder, and when there was still no reply, she cautiously opened the door and peeped in. The Comte was fast asleep, lying on his back with his arms outflung. Caroline entered the room, closed the door after her, and put the water on the washstand. Then she approached the bed.
Asleep, the Comte looked much younger and defenceless. Caroline again had the feeling she had seen him before.
She remembered she had felt this soon after they had first met, and now she puzzled over it, but the memory eluded her.
She leant over and touched him on the shoulder. Immediately he was awake, and Caroline was astonished to see a look of fear in his eyes. He sat up, reaching for the sword that she now perceived lay unsheathed on the stool by his bed. Then he realised where he was, and it was Caroline who had awoken him, and began to laugh, explaining that in his work, he must always be aware of enemies.
But Caroline was hardly listening. In that moment, when she had seen the flash of fear in his eyes, she remembered where she had seen him before. He was the young Cavalier she had helped with food and clothing after the battle of Worcester, when she had been but nine years old.
She was not allowed to dwell on this discovery for long, since the Comte was up and issuing orders about his clothing, but as she handed him his shirt, she studied his face, and became more certain he was indeed the same man. The Cavalier had spoken of estates in Ireland, and the Comte's mother was Irish. She longed to ask him how he had fared since leaving her, but dared not for fear of giving away her own identity, and especially her sex.
She had adapted herself well to her boy's garb, wearing it with an air, but she realised that if the Comte knew she was a girl, he would view her escapades very differently, and would not keep her with him. She knew now she had been several hours in his company that she did not want to leave it, for she had fallen under the spell of his easy charm.
She did not think, if he knew her story, that he would send her back to Uncle John, but she was very afraid he would put her in the care of some family, probably here with his sister, while her Aunt Mary was contacted. Caroline was not at all sure what her relatives would do then. She felt quite able to persuade her father's sister to help her or give her a home, could she but meet her personally, but if the Comte knew who she was, she had little hope of being allowed to proceed with him to London.
This was vital to her plan for escaping from her former life.
In her reverie, she had not been paying much attention to the Comte, and he had twice asked in vain for the towel. As he got up from the chair to fetch it himself, he put his hand on Caroline's shoulder, and asked, 'Well, Charles, what ails you? Are you still asleep?'
Caroline started guiltily and blushed, then turned away from his amused look to hide her blushes.
'I am sorry. I was thinking – about something that happened when I was young.'
The Comte laughed, and putting his fingers under her chin, turned her to face him.
'I had not noticed your grey beard yet,' he mocked her, and she blushed even more furiously, inwardly berating herself for this unfortunate tendency, which until now she had not known she possessed.
'What was it you wanted, sir?' she asked, hurriedly. 'I will pay more attention in future, I swear it.'
'I merely asked for the towel.'
The Comte released her, and she hurriedly fetched him the towel.
He shaved in a careful, leisurely fashion, and seemed to have forgotten Caroline, so she was able to study him more closely than before. She was by now positive he was 'her' Cavalier, as she had always thought of the young man she had succoured. Now she was recalling various expressions of his, and even the inflexions of his voice confirmed her belief. How could she be certain? She must ask him questions about Worcester, and perhaps
he would tell her the story.
She wanted him to be the same man. How extraordinary it was that the man she had helped long ago was now helping her.
The Comte had finished. He handed her the razor, and she helped him into his coat.
'I shall be out all day, and do not need you to accompany me. Indeed it is better if you do not. You may stay in the house or the park, but do not venture outside. My sister has provided a horse for you to ride, and we shall be setting off early tomorrow. I suggest you go to bed immediately supper is over. We shall be called before first light tomorrow. I do not expect to be back before supper, so I will not see you until tomorrow morning.'
'Oh.' Caroline felt rather dismayed at the thought of his leaving her, if only for a day, and in such safe surroundings as these. Then she realised the next day would see them further on their way to London, and her spirits rose.
'Shall I pack your things in readiness?' she asked.
'Yes, everything is here. And Kate will provide you with a saddle bag and some fresh linen. I have told her you lost your possessions, and the dear soul is longing to mother you. She has, I believe, found some old shirts and stockings which used to belong to me. I did not know they still existed, but she apparently hoarded them for years. I trust they are not too moth-eaten.'
With a laugh and a smile, he went out of the room, and Caroline was left to herself.
She had plenty to think about in the lonely day ahead of her.
*
Chapter 7
She did not see the Comte again that day, but following his suggestion went early to bed. It still seemed the middle of the night when she was woken by the light of a candle in her room. It was the Comte, who had entered from his room. Seeing that she stirred, he set the candle down.
'We must be away in half an hour. Kate has some food prepared for us. Bring all your belongings downstairs with you.'
'Yes, sir,' Caroline replied sleepily. She slipped out of the bed, and the Comte disappeared into his own room, shutting the door after him. Caroline hurriedly dressed, and picking up the saddle bag in which she had packed the clean linen Kate had provided for her, she took the candle and crept out of the room and down the stairs to the dining hall.
She was down before the Comte, but his sister was there, and she bade Caroline be seated and begin, for there was no time to lose. Soon the Comte appeared, but he did not eat much. He and his sister seemed loth to part. Marguerite hovered round him, attending to his wants, and when not needed, she sat in a chair beside him, watching him steadily.
As he finished, he rose from the chair, and took Marguerite in his arms for a long farewell embrace.
'Take care,' she whispered. 'I could not bear it if ought befell you.'
'Do not worry, my dear. I shall take all precautions. Remember, I have not worked in London before, so I have the great advantage of not being known there, though I know the city from having lived there.'
'But he has spies everywhere! How else could he know so much?'
'You are not to worry.'
'I cannot help it. God go with you, my dear.'
They kissed, then released one another, and Marguerite turned to Caroline. She had tears in her eyes.
'Farewell, Charles. Look after your master well for me.'
'I will do what I can, madam,' Caroline replied, moved at the sight of the brother and sister taking such a fond farewell.
Then the Comte picked up his saddle bags and moved towards the door. Marguerite made no move after him, but signed to Caroline, who had been waiting for her to go first, to follow. She quickly went after the Comte, who, with the aid of a candle, made his way out to the stables, where one of the grooms had the horses ready.
Strapping on the saddle bags, they led the horses out into the yard, and mounted.
'Follow me,' the Comte ordered, and set off into the darkness.
Caroline turned her horse after him, and in single file they rode along the drive to the main gateway. By the time they reached it the first daylight was creeping into the sky in front of them. The little gate at the side was open, though no one appeared to be about, and they made their way through and on to the road. Turning southwards, they were able to move at a steady pace, soon quickening to a trot as the light grew stronger. The Comte waited for Caroline to draw alongside him, and they rode together in silence for some time.
'I am avoiding the main roads,' the Comte told Caroline, 'but we go direct to London, taking it easy for the sake of the horses. We should reach it in three days.'
'I can scarce wait so long to see it.'
'You have never been there?'
'No, but it has always fascinated me. Do you know it well?'
'I have been there occasionally, and know my way amongst the main thoroughfares.'
'I am longing to see Whitehall and St James's. And St Paul's.'
'We will see them all. I shall take you on a tour of all the notable sights!'
'Will you really do that? Oh, thank you. I would not know how to begin by myself.'
'I can begin now, if sights outside London interest you.'
'I want to see the whole world,' replied Caroline, and the Comte laughed.
'I cannot show you all that at once, but soon we pass Edge Hill, the scene of the famous battle. Have you heard of it?'
'Yes, indeed. My father's servant has told me much of the battles. He was at Edge Hill with my father. Were you – ? But no, you would not have been old enough to be there.'
'I was but twelve years old. The King and his brother James were at many of the battles, though they were no older.'
'Were you at Worcester?' Caroline asked the question with as much nonchalance as she could assume, though with beating heart.
'Yes, I was there. It was a sorry affair. I was one of the lucky ones who escaped.'
'Like the King himself! Benny says many loyal people must have helped him on his journey.'
'If you ever meet the King, ask him to tell you himself!' the Comte laughed. 'He never tires of the telling. Methinks 'tis his favourite tale.'
'Have you in truth heard him telling the story?' asked Caroline, awestruck.
The Comte glanced at her, round eyed and with a reverent expression on her face.
'Several times,' he answered drily.
'Then you must know the King well,' breathed Caroline. 'Oh, tell me what he is like. Is he really ugly? I do not think people should call a King ugly. It is not polite.'
'But true. And Charles Stuart, though he never tells people what he is thinking, never minds them telling him the truth about himself. There is none of the false majesty with him that surrounded his father, though he does indeed stand out above all others. He has some rare quality which binds his followers to him. It is true majesty.'
He fell silent, and Caroline did not care to interrupt his reflections. By now it was light enough to see for some distance ahead, and she occupied herself with looking at the surrounding countryside.
After a time the Comte roused himself, and began to talk of more general things, and she learned little more of either him or the King. They paused at the field of Edge Hill, and the Comte told Caroline what he knew of this battle. She stood there enthralled, imagining the scene, bright coloured and noisy, until the Comte recalled her to the present by saying they must continue if they were to reach the inn where he planned to stay the night.
So they continued, and later the rain began to fall, so that they were wet by the time they reached the inn.
*
It was an uneventful, though wet journey, for the rain continued all the next day.
They stayed two nights at small village inns, away from the main routes between the Midlands and London. There the only difficulties were that on both nights Caroline had to share the Comte's room, sleeping on a pallet at the foot of his bed.
She had been embarrassed, but the Comte had not seemed to notice her hesitancy, and had merely said it was well they had managed to secure a room to themselves. On Ca
roline's look of enquiry, he had laughingly told her travellers frequently had to sleep four or more to a bed in the more crowded inns. This was a fact she had not heard before, and she could not conceal her horror, and relief they did not meet with the same conditions.
Towards evening on the third day, when the rain had eased at last, they left the byways and joined the main Oxford road some miles west of the capital. By the time they reached London it was nearly dusk.
Caroline stared wonderingly about her at the huge buildings, mostly of wood and plaster, and crowded so close together that often in the alleys there was space enough for nothing wider than a barrow.
Even before they came to the first buildings, Caroline wrinkled up her nose at the smell which greeted them. The stink of refuse of all kinds filled the air, and Caroline, used to the fresh air of the countryside, was nauseated.
'How can people bear to live near this filthy smell?' she asked.
'When you have no choice, you soon learn to ignore it, or make the best of it,' replied the Comte. 'Most Londoners have never been beyond the bounds of the city so have never known anything else.'
'Poor things! I am sure I will never accustom myself to it.'
' 'Tis less fearful this year, after this rainy summer.'
'Then if the summer is dry and hot, it must be unbearable!'
'It is caused by all the rubbish and slops being thrown out into the streets, where, if one is lucky, it is taken away in the kennels, the ditches you see in the centre of the roadway. It finished up in the river. But much of it is left and rots.'
'Does no one ever try to keep the streets clean?'
'There are some attempts, but the authorities have not enough powers, and no one cares sufficiently to persevere. 'Tis one of the reasons the plague flourishes in the towns. It is spread by the dirt.'
'London is not so attractive as I thought,' said Caroline dolefully, and the Comte laughed at her.
'Come, there are good things too, and I will show them to you another day. But we must hasten. I have a room near Cheapside, and would get there before it is dark. 'Tis not safe to move about in the city after dark unless one is guarded by armed men. Remember that, for were you to fall in with ruffians, you would very likely finish up in the river along with all the rubbish!'