Cavalier Courtship

by Oliver, Marina

  'There are so many plots, so many attempts at a restoration, but at the same time much jealousy. The groups are unwilling to work together. They all fear that if they do not bring about a restoration by their unaided efforts they will not win the rewards from it.'

  'Oh, how ridiculous men are!'

  'But it is the present state of affairs, Charles. Now you have been with me for over a month, and have served me well. You should know more of my doings. Not enough to bring you or my friends into danger, but enough to share in my efforts. For many months now I have been trying to persuade these various groups to work together, and it is a long and hard task. Ormonde himself was in London early this year trying to accomplish what I am now attempting. If the Protector dies it gives us a great chance, but it will also be a dangerous time, for a false move could undo the work of years.'

  'Most of the people want the King back.'

  'Many of them seem to, but I fear they really only want an end to the heavy taxes Parliament imposed on them. Should a new Protector appear who could lower the taxes, then the cries we hear for Charles Stuart would soon be silenced.'

  'Oh, we must get him back. It would be unsupportable if we had another Cromwell for another decade!'

  'You may be able to help. I shall be excessively busy in the next few days, if he does die, and I expect I will find more important work for you than scribbling letters.'

  'Please, Philip. I will do all you ask of me.'

  He smiled down at her fervour, and left her.

  *

  The next day was Sunday, and they were up betimes, out in the streets to hear the latest news of the man who lay dying in Whitehall Palace. They rode to the Palace, and outside were crowds of people, many, standing or on their knees, praying for the man who had ruled the country for most of the fifties. Caroline was shaken to see this demonstration of affection for the man she had learned to hate, because he was depriving the King of his throne, and for the first time she began to think of the other side that there is to every question.

  Throughout that day there was no change in the news, but on Monday the rumour spread that the Protector was recovering. There was a terrible storm raging – the worst in living memory, and several of the ships in the Thames were sunk, but Caroline and Philip put on their thickest cloaks and struggled on foot through the windswept, rain-lashed streets to Whitehall to discover the latest news. Only a few people had braved the storm to come here, and soon Philip took the shivering Caroline by the arm and turned her away, back towards the city. They struggled back to their lodgings, there to sit in front of the fire that the inclement weather made necessary on this August day, to wait and wonder, for until this crisis was over, there was nothing Philip could do to forward the King's restoration.

  They waited for news all that week, but none came until late on the Friday afternoon, when they were again waiting with a smallish crowd of people outside Whitehall. First a rumour spread round the crowd that the end had come, then messengers were seen to come out of the Palace. Philip bade Caroline stay where she was, and he disappeared towards the Palace. It was half an hour before he returned, but through one of the servants he knew in the palace, he had definite tidings that the Protector was dead.

  He hurried Caroline away, and they returned to their lodgings, where Philip at once began to write letters announcing the death. The ones giving the bare details he gave to Caroline to copy, but he himself was writing long into the night more private epistles.

  On the following day he gave Caroline detailed instructions and several bulky packages which she was to deliver to various people staying at different inns. Now she was thankful she had made such good use of the time she had wandered round the city, for she was able to find her way speedily and without difficulty to these inns. At all of them the people she was to contact appeared to be waiting for her. Some of them were dressed for travelling, and one was sitting impatiently upon a mettlesome horse in the inn yard. He stayed barely long enough to thank her for the package, and was out under the archway to the street even before he had stowed the package into his pocket.

  This task completed, Caroline hurriedly made her way back to the house, to find Philip had gone out, and left a message she was to wait for him. It was late in the evening before he returned, and when he did he was tired and dejected. They went to his room, and he sank down on to the chair by the writing table.

  'Richard Cromwell has been proclaimed Protector,' he told her. 'Now is the time when we must move, or we shall lose the initiative. But I greatly fear procrastination will be our undoing.'

  'Has anything happened?' asked Caroline anxiously.

  'Nothing! That is what is so discouraging. Some of those who are supposed to be our leaders are advising caution, caution! They will never see a restoration if that is all they ever think about!'

  Caroline had not seen Philip in this mood before, dispirited and bitter, and she did her best to cheer him.

  'What is the use of going on, spending one's life and fortune in the King's service, if others, who are doing the same themselves, are so afraid they mistrust everyone else?'

  'One day the King will come back. I feel it. England is a merry country, we want a merry king. All our favourite kings have been the merry ones. Don't give up, Philip. The King depends on men like you.'

  'I will never give up while there is life in my body,' he reassured her, 'but the problem of getting all our efforts concerted sometimes seems insurmountable.'

  'Now that Cromwell is dead, perhaps things will change, Philip. What kind of man is his son?'

  'He has none of the fire or talent of his father. Oliver was a great man, and even though we were on opposing sides, I have to concede that. But Richard is unlikely to achieve a quarter as much. He will not control the generals, and most certainly will not control Parliament. Now is the time to strike! But that fool Willis keeps advising wait and see, wait upon events! If we wait much longer we shall all be dead!'

  'Do you have to take his advice?'

  'No, by God! But nearly every Royalist in England will not move against it. I must write to the King, but I doubt whether he will believe me and suggest other action. I can only hope he will.'

  He got up wearily, and Caroline helped him remove the coat he had been wearing.

  'Go to bed, Charles. There is nothing you can do for the moment. But I am grateful for your sympathy and encouragement. If I say more to you than in discretion I should, it is because I trust you completely. Goodnight.'

  *

  He had reseated himself at the writing table before Caroline left the room, worried about the situation, yet thrilled at his trust in her.

  For long now she had done her best to avoid thinking about him as a man, rather than as an employer, but there were times, and this was one of them, when she could not help admitting to herself that the feelings she had for him were those of love. She longed to take his head in her arms and comfort him as only a woman could, yet it was impossible. She could do only little things to help, but she was overjoyed these little things seemed to be of use to him. She did not think of the future. The present, just being with him, was sufficient.

  For several days Philip anxiously wrote letter after letter, in between going out and seeing many people. Caroline was more in his confidence now, though she still was not told the identity of those he went so frequently to visit, and the times she spent alone, waiting for his return, were fraught with frustration and worry.

  One afternoon, about two weeks after the Protector's death, Philip went out as usual, and Caroline, listless, wandered round the house, eventually sitting down on the window seat looking out into the street. She had no heart to go out and join in the life that was teeming there. She did not expect to see Philip back until supper time or later, so her surprise was great when, looking towards Cheapside, she saw his tall, elegant figure running along the street towards the house.

  She reached the door and opened it just as he came up to it.

  'Wh
at is it, Philip?'

  He smiled at her, and pulled her into the house.

  'Quick, upstairs, to my room.'

  Without waiting for her to reply he dashed up the stairs three at a time, and flung open the door of his room.

  She followed, still anxious, but reassured by the smile he had given her. When she reached the door, it was to find him already out of his coat.

  'Philip, are you being hunted? Why such haste?'

  ' 'Tis not bad news, but good,' he said. 'Get my saddle bags and I will tell you as I pack.'

  'Pack? Are we leaving? Where to? Why? For the love of heaven tell me what has happened or I will end in Bedlam!'

  'Action at last! This day I received a letter from His Majesty, and he instructs me to go to Scotland. General Monk is there, and there is a hope he may support the King's cause, even though he has just proclaimed Richard in Scotland. I am to go there to him and do what I may to assist the King's cause.'

  A cold fear clutched at Caroline's heart.

  'What am I to do?' she whispered fearfully.

  'I am afraid you cannot come with me, Charles. I must ride fast, and I doubt you could keep up with me. Besides, one man on his own is more likely to get there quickly, and less noticeably than two travellers.'

  Caroline could not speak, but looked at him with mute appeal in her eyes.

  'I hope I shall be away only a few weeks,' went on Philip. 'I want you to stay here, for there is work to be done.'

  'Then you will be back soon?' asked Caroline hopefully.

  'As soon as I possibly can. There is no call for me to remain in Scotland longer than necessary to pass messages on to General Monk, and receive his replies.'

  'I shall count the days. What can I do here?'

  'There are several people who must be told where I am and why I have been sent there. If I give you a list of names and addresses can you take that message for me, and make sure you deliver it secretly only to the people on the list? Then you must destroy the list.'

  'I can do that. You may trust me, Philip.'

  'Some of the places are out of London, and will necessitate a day's ride. Most of the people will be able to give you lodging for the night, but you must be prepared to stay at the inns. For this you will need money, and I will give you a note to Francini, who is a goldsmith in Lombard Street, and who will supply you with all you may need. In all, I expect this to occupy you for the best part of three weeks, so there will be little time to spare. It must be done as soon as possible. Do you understand?'

  'Yes,'

  While giving Caroline his explanation and these hurried instructions, Philip had been selecting clean linen and shirts from the chest in which they were kept, and he now pushed the pile over to Caroline.

  'Pack these for me, while I make out the list for you, and write the note for Francini. I must start as soon as possible, for I aim to reach Hatfield before nightfall. But ere you do that, run down to the kitchen and ask Bessy to prepare some food I can carry in my pockets.'

  Caroline ran out of the room to do his bidding, and Bessy, given the message, busied herself without delay packing pastries and cold meat into clean linen napkins which could easily be slipped into coat pockets.

  When Caroline reached Philip's room again, he was wearing only breeches and stockings. He was busy fastening a bulging money belt round his waist, and he called to Caroline to help him adjust it so that it lay smoothly against him. She had blushed to see him there half naked, and it was only with a great effort she controlled the trembling his nearness and masculinity evoked in her. The touch of his skin sent tremors through her, and when he told her to fasten one of the buckles on the belt she could scarcely hold her fingers steady enough to do so.

  Fortunately he was too preoccupied to notice, and she bent quickly over the pile of linen, packing it neatly and efficiently into the saddle bags, while he put on his shirt, and sat down to write the list and note for her. When he had finished, he gave them to her with a smile.

  'I depend on you. It was a lucky day when I came upon you. I hope you will never regret throwing in your lot with me!'

  The expression on her face told him that she could not wish it to be otherwise, and he turned away to put on his coat and a big riding cloak. She helped him pull on the big boots, and then, while he spent a few moments in the kitchen taking leave of Bessy, she went into the stable to saddle his mare. She had just finished when he came out of the house, and he quickly fastened the saddle bags in place, and leapt into the saddle. Leaning down, he touched her lightly on the cheek before turning the horse's head towards the street.

  'Farewell.'

  Caroline's voice came from far away so he could not hear her reply, and her eyes were so full of tears that she did not see him as he turned the corner and raised his whip in salute to her. She turned and ran into the stables, to bury her head into the soft flank of her own horse, until she had composed herself sufficiently to return to the house and face Bessy.

  *

  Chapter 9

  The next few weeks were exceedingly dull for Caroline. She spent the first three of them delivering Philip's message to the people on his list. They were a varied collection of people, and Caroline found some interest in studying those who were working in the Royalist cause. There were three or four wealthy landowners, some farmers, several merchants, a couple of shipowners, the owners of several inns and taverns, and many people of lesser degree, small tradesmen, clerks, ostlers.

  There were even some ministers of the Anglican Church, and one professed Puritan.

  On several visits, Caroline had to wait long periods, or return later, when the people she wanted to see were absent, but this was time-consuming rather than difficult, and on the whole she had little trouble in finding the people and giving them her message. But once the task was over, and she was left to occupy herself, the time went slowly. She wandered round the streets of the city, but without Philip, everything seemed to lack interest.

  A month had gone by in this manner, and she was expecting Philip daily, but instead a letter was brought to her, by a soldier who said he had just come back to London from Scotland.

  Trembling with emotion, mixed excitement and fear, she opened the letter and read it eagerly.

  My dear Charles,

  By the time this letter reaches you I should have returned myself, but for the moment I am delayed. The business I am engaged on is proving more difficult and complicated than I anticipated, and I expect to be detained here for several more weeks. To prevent your worrying over what has become of me, I have been fortunate in obtaining the friendly services of the messenger who brings this. I regret the necessity of leaving you so long without employment, but can assure you that on my return there will be much to do. I will endeavour to apprise you of my return, which ought to be towards the end of November.

  Be pleased to give my greetings to Bessy and any of my friends who ask after me.

  I remain, your unavoidably absent but devoted friend, Philip.

  Caroline put down the letter and stared blankly in front of her.

  Philip would not be returning for another month. She then realised how much, during the last few days, she had been relying on his imminent return. The disappointment was intense, and she could scarcely hold back the tears. Now she no longer tried to avoid thinking of her love for him. It was ever at the surface of her thoughts, and when she was alone and able to indulge in thoughts of him, the pain of wanting him was a physical anguish.

  The future had not till now concerned her. It had been enough to be with him, or to have the promise of soon being with him, but increasingly the thought of what would happen to them eventually began to torment her. She knew she could not keep up her masquerade as a boy for ever, and her feelings were so intense she did not want Philip to be aware of her only as a boy. She dreamed of his kisses, reliving that all but forgotten kiss he had given her years ago in the woods near Lichfield, when she, a child, had assisted the tired Cavalier. It had been
a simple, friendly kiss, and in her innocence she knew of no other kind, except the one from the Colonel, which had so frightened and disgusted her. But her awakening womanhood had strengthened feelings within her that were strange, exciting, and pleasurable.

  How it would all end she dared not conjecture, but she began, for the first time since she had arrived in London, to think about her unknown Aunt Mary, her father's sister, to whom she had been coming when she met Philip. Though she did not want to leave him, she felt she ought at least to discover what she could of her aunt and the possibilities of going to her. If Philip discovered she was a girl, he would be certain to send her away.

  She was not afraid he would turn her into the streets, but he would not consider it right she continued to live with him.

  She would have to resume her petticoats, and a way of life more decorous for a gently nurtured female. If this had to happen, and she could see that it would sooner or later, then she ought to explore the possibilities with her only known relative.

  With this conclusion, she set out one day to find the house where Hannah Kenny, the old housekeeper who knew her aunt's address, lived. It was in Westminster, but in a part she had never before visited, and it took some time to find. When she got there she was impressed by the size of the house. It was built in a square, with a courtyard in the centre, and big gardens around it. But the house looked somewhat neglected. There were no signs of life in it.

  No smoke came out of the many chimneys, and as it was now mid-November, and cold even for that time of year, fires were essential for all who could afford them. The windows were shuttered, and the heavy gates closed. Caroline paused outside them, seeing through the cracks into the courtyard. This was an unforeseen development. Now what should she do?

  While she waited outside the gates, irresolute, an old man shuffled by, and glancing at her curiously, he stopped.

  'Do ye want someone?'

  'I came to see an old friend of mine who works here. Her name is Mistress Kenny, and she had a position as housekeeper here, so I believe.'