'Aye, that's right. Mistress Hannah Kenny. She came here about a year back.'
'Is she still here? There does not seem to be anyone about.'
'The house is shut up, and the family, with all the servants, are gone down to the country.'
'Do you know where?'
'I think it be somewhere near Gloucester, but I don't rightly know.'
'Is there not a caretaker in the house?'
'Aye, but he be gone over to Kensington village for a few days, for his father has just been taken ill and there be no one to look after him there.'
'Oh, then I shall have to come back in a few days. Thank you.'
Caroline turned away disconsolately, and made her way back to the city. She would have to wait in patience for some days till the caretaker returned. Even then he could only tell her where the family lived, and when they would be back in London.
It could be months before she contacted Hannah.
*
It then occurred to her she might try to find her aunt directly, but all she had to help her was her aunt's name. She did not know where to start looking, and so returned to her lodging. She went to find Bessy in the kitchen, and telling her part of the truth, that she was looking for a distant relative, she asked her advice on where to start.
Bessy had little to suggest.
'What sort of folk are they?'
'I know nothing beyond her name, Lady Tomas. I know nothing else.'
'It would seem they are wealthy?'
'I suppose so, but of her husband I know nothing.'
'You could ask the hackney coach drivers, or the sedan men. It is not much, but you might be lucky. Or some of the merchants in the 'Change might know of them, but I doubt they are the merchant class. Do you know where in the country they come from?'
'Lady Tomas comes from Cheshire, but her husband might come from anywhere.'
'It is not much, but you might try the inns where the stages come in. Someone might know there.'
'Thank you, Bessy. It is something to start on, and at least it will give me occupation while Philip is away.'
'You miss your cousin, do you not?' asked Bessy sympathetically. 'Have you lived away from home before?'
'No. And it is strange being in London on my own.'
'Your cousin will know this aunt, no doubt, and you will be able to ask him when he returns.'
'I – I think not. They are from another branch of the family, and Philip does not know them.'
'Can you not send to your family and ask the address of them?'
'It would not be possible! There was a disagreement, I think, and the two families do not correspond. But I was curious to find this unknown relative.'
Bessy nodded her head. The fact of families split in these times of dissension was too common for comment. Caroline escaped to her room from Bessy's unintentionally difficult questions, and pondered what to do. After a time, seeing no other way of finding her aunt other than waiting for Hannah's return, she decided to follow up Bessy's suggestions, and the next few days saw her haunting the hackney stands, asking questions, at first hopefully, but as she discovered nothing, her hopes grew dim. She tried the various inns where the stage coaches and carriers from the Midlands and the north-west came in, but she fared no better there.
Every few days she went to the house in Westminster where Hannah worked, but it was nearly three weeks before she found the caretaker there.
He was able to give her the address of the family, but it was in Wales, and much too far for her to travel, alone, and in winter.
He could not tell her when the family was due to return, as they were prone to move about the country at intervals, and sent him word to prepare the house for them only a few days before they were expected. She considered sending Hannah a letter, but in the end decided not to risk this. She did not know whether Hannah, knowing she was alone in London, would consider it her duty to tell Uncle John. She knew that if she saw Hannah, she could convince her this would be disastrous, and so she resigned herself to waiting as patiently as she could for Hannah's return.
*
It was now the beginning of December, and Philip had been expected for some days. He had sent no more messages, but in his letter had hoped to be back in London by the end of November. Caroline scarcely dared leave the house, in case she missed his arrival. He began to occupy a large place in her thoughts, and she ached with longing for him, and dreaded missing even a minute of his company on his return.
But several more days went by without any sign from him, until one evening, as Caroline was preparing for bed, a loud knocking came at the street door, and his voice, laughing as he greeted Bessy, came floating up the stairs.
She hastily dragged on her breeches and shirt, and ran down the stairs to greet him.
It was her instinct to throw herself into his arms, but she stopped at the foot of the stairs, unsure of how to proceed. He came over to her and clapped her on the shoulder, smiling.
'Well, Charles, I am later than I thought, but here at last, and exceedingly muddy and hungry.'
'I will prepare a meal at once.'
Bessy bustled off into the kitchen, and Philip turned to Caroline and held her at arm's length.
'I swear you have grown while I have been away,' he laughed at her.
Caroline blushed. To cover her joy and confusion she asked, 'Have you stabled the mare? I will do it while you wash and prepare for the meal.'
'My efficient Charles! Thank you. The mare needs a meal as much as I do. I will be thankful to get rid of some of the mud which came from those roads. I think they are the worst in Europe, and the wet summer has made them twice as bad as normal.'
He ran up the stairs, and Caroline, watching him till he was out of sight, then turned with a joyful heart to attend to the horse. When she returned to the house, Philip was sitting at a laden table, eating the food which Bessy had, in her usual prodigal way, provided in plenty.
Philip motioned to Caroline to join him, and she took a mug of cider, feasting her eyes on his beloved face.
Soon he sat back with a sigh of pleasure.
'It is good to be back here. The conditions I have had to endure are indescribable, and the food uneatable half the time. It is not surprising there are murmurs of discontent in the army.'
Caroline longed to ask him whether his mission had been a success. He looked cheerful, but had said no word about it, and Caroline knew better than to mention it in front of Bessy, who was still hovering around, pressing more food on him. Laughingly he refused, and rising, said he ought to retire, since he had been on the road since early that morning.
'Come, Charles, I am sure I roused you too, and you will be anxious to go back to bed.'
Bidding Bessy a goodnight, he led the way up the stairs, but carried on past his own room up to Caroline's. When they were safely inside, he shut the door.
'It is better to talk here. I do not imagine for a moment Bessy or her sister would betray me, but we cannot be certain who else in the house can hear what we are saying.'
'I am longing to know how your mission fared.'
'I thought you would not be able to contain your questions till morning. Well, it is early to say, but the general did not seem unsympathetic. He is an odd man, and one cannot know what he is thinking. I suspect he is rather like the King in that. They will deal well together if they do ever deal together!'
'But he has not promised to help?'
'No. I could win no definite promise from him, but at the very least he has not said no. It is something to work for. Some reason to go on with this seemingly endless plotting.'
'Will the King ever return?'
'I believe so, but when?'
'Is General Monk the only hope?'
'No. There are many other paths which are being explored, and one day, pray heaven, one of them will lead somewhere. But tell me how you have fared. I was distressed to have to leave you at all, and it has been for far longer than I thought it would be. How h
ave you occupied the time?'
'It seemed so long, yet now you are back, I cannot remember what I did!'
Philip laughed.
'I delivered your messages, as you instructed. Since then, I have passed the time as best I may.'
Caroline felt guilty at hiding from him her activities in trying to find her aunt, but she felt that to tell him a little of the story would be too risky, as he might discover the rest. She hoped Bessy would not mention it to him, but felt reasonably secure, as they did not usually exchange other than trivialities.
'Well, if you were inactive, that will soon alter, for I have many letters to write, and you can help me a great deal. I must take you into my confidence more, as there is need of work I cannot do alone, and you have proved many times your loyalty. Now I really must go to bed, or I shall fall asleep here!'
He then left her, but it was long before she fell asleep, she was so overjoyed at his return. She had been even more affected by his presence than she had imagined, since so often during his absence she had dwelt on him with thoughts of love.
*
The following day he awoke early, and for the whole day Caroline was kept busy writing letters. She had no time to spare to dwell on her feelings. Life returned to its previous pattern, and she was occupied once more writing or delivering letters.
Now Philip trusted her with more details and she was often sent with verbal messages when it was too dangerous to commit words to paper, even in the code Philip himself used.
So it went on into the New Year. A new Parliament had been summoned, and a few Royalists had been elected, as well as many other men new to Parliament.
There were many groups and factions, and no indication of a majority – apart from a determination to resist the power of the army.
At the end of 1658 there had been disagreements between Richard Cromwell, the new Protector, and the leaders of the army. In the new year the Parliamentary troops, unpaid for some time, began to mutiny, and the situation looked grave for Cromwell and his party.
One day Philip came in from one of his late evening meetings with serious news.
As was now his custom, he came up to Caroline's room when he returned to the house, to tell her of any news he had heard on his visits, which she now knew were to other Royalists working for the King's restoration.
'There is an order for all Royalists to remove twenty miles from London,' he told her.
'Why is that?'
'The Government are afraid the disturbances will spread, especially if the Royalists are in London to help it!'
'Does it apply to us? Must we go?'
'I cannot. My work is too important to risk losing contact with the others. I am probably known to the spies as a Royalist, but I must risk the penalty and stay. But you do not have to. Indeed I have no right to ask you. I shall arrange to send you to my sister for the time being – '
'No!'
The cry burst from Caroline. She could not bear the thought of being sent away, being parted from him again, after so short a time together since he had returned from Scotland.
He regarded her quizzically. 'Did you dislike my sister so much?' he enquired
' 'Tis not that, Philip. I liked her well. I want to stay here with you, to help you, to do what little I can in the King's cause.'
'You do not realise the danger, child.'
'I am no child! I am near seventeen. And I do not care about the danger. I want to stay here!'
'Suppose I dismiss you from my service?'
'Dismiss me?' Caroline was horrified. 'You would not do that?'
'I require obedience from my page!'
'Then if I were no longer your page, you could not order me out of London!' Caroline retorted, having recovered her spirit, and with it a determination to show Philip that whatever he did, she would not abandon their cause.
'I take it you would disobey me were I to order your going?'
'Yes. I am not leaving London. I would rather leave your service and stay near you than go like a craven miserable wretch crawling to safety in the country! I have had sufficient safety in the country to last me the rest of my life.'
Philip smiled. He had seen Caroline animated many times, but never angry, and her flaming cheeks and sparkling eyes made her look young, and somehow defenceless.
'As you wish it, then. Truly I value your work, and would miss your help. But are you sure you know what you risk? Imprisonment would be the lightest penalty. And were you caught, I dare not risk our cause by trying to extricate you. You would have to wait till the government grew lenient and released you. Or worse might happen. Many Royalists have been executed.'
'I understand well. Will you really allow me to stay with you? Thank you, Philip, oh thank you.'
She almost threw herself into his arms, but restrained herself in time. He grinned at her ruefully.
'I ought not to allow it, but mayhap the danger is not so severe after all. The new Parliament will be so busy over constitutional matters that a few disobedient Royalists, when they show discretion, ought to be able to slip any of their traps. But this you must heed. There must be no wandering about the town as before. We will leave this house only when absolutely necessary. I fear you may become weary of inaction, but this is the condition under which I keep you here.'
'I will not move ere you command it!'
'Good. Now it is late, you must go to bed. Sleep well.'
He went from the room, leaving Caroline unable to sleep at this new development. She had nearly been sent away from him! She sobbed a few tears of relief that he had agreed to keep her with him. She could not bear to be parted from him, for even a few days.
*
The next weeks were quiet and uneventful.
Philip went out every evening after dark, and stayed out late, but he would not take Caroline with him, nor allow her to go out during the daytime. She protested she was not able to do her work of taking messages, but he told her most of the people to whom in the past she had taken messages were now gone from London. And he met the others secretly at night. They no longer dared to arrange seemingly innocent gatherings at taverns as before, those for which she had so often written notes of invitation. Most of the time they met at an inn owned by a secret Royalist, casual or regular visitors, who exchanged remarks when there was no one to overhear, or under cover of the chatter in the taproom. On a few occasions Philip entertained one or two men in his room, but he did that only when they had things to discuss which were too explicit to be covered by a general conversation, or when particularly important letters were passed to the couriers to and from the Continent, where the King was staying at various towns in the Netherlands.
Caroline occasionally saw these men, and was introduced as Philip's cousin, but she was never present at their conversations. It was a very boring time, enlivened by the fact that she now had a great deal of Philip's company during the daytime when he did not risk being seen abroad. She asked him many questions about his early life, and he spent the hours telling her about his homes in France and Ireland, where his Irish mother had inherited the vast estates that gave him much of his fortune.
One day she led him on to talk of the fighting he had seen, both with the French armies and the ill-fated invasion that had ended at Worcester.
'How did you escape?'
'I was scarcely wounded, though my horse had been killed. We left after the battle, three of us, and the next day met with the King and his companions. But they, knowing so large a company would make capture inevitable, slipped away with a few others, and the rest of us soon separated too. I made my way to Ireland, and from there back to France.'
'I have heard many tales of the King's escape. Did you have such adventures?'
'No. My escape was much more straightforward and simple. I was forced to walk, having lost my horse, but I knew some friends in Stafford, and having reached them, it was simple. They disguised me and sent me to Ireland with one of their sons as his servant.'
'So y
ou had no adventures at all?'
'Just one, a curious one that I'll remember always. I was walking by night, and sleeping by day in the woods, but one day I stumbled on a charming little maid, a Puritan by the look of her clothes, and she insisted on procuring for me a change of clothes and some food. At that time I was weary and hungry, and she gave me the strength to go on. Without her courage in helping me I might have given in. I have often wondered what became of her, and hoped she did not get into trouble over the food and clothes she took for me!'
Caroline listened as in a dream. She was reliving every moment of that meeting as Philip spoke of it, and longed to tell him what had indeed happened to his Puritan maid.
Many times she asked him about his life, though he never questioned her, recognising she preferred to keep it secret, but they also spoke of many other things. He had travelled and read widely, and was able to talk about many places, to tell her some history of the past, and she, uneducated in this way, drank it all in greedily. More than ever before she was angry at the different ways in which boys and girls were educated. She did not pause to consider whether she would have learned so well from another teacher.
One day she exclaimed she would dearly love to see all the cities he described.
'You may one day be able to travel and see them.'
'That I would like, but I know not how it could be arranged!'
'It is in the future, but one day, I am sure, you will do it.'
'I cannot even speak French, so it would not profit me much if I were to reach the other side of the Channel.'
'But you have been well educated, that is obvious in your writing. Did this uncle who brought you up not teach you French? It is a common thing to learn it.'
Caroline looked scornful. 'My uncle despised all fashionable doings. He maintained that it was enough to know one's own language well, especially for a – ' She stopped suddenly and flushed. Philip raised his eyebrows quizzically, and she recovered herself and went on. 'He said it was unnecessary to learn French when I would never leave this country – or at least, he assumed I would never have cause to do so.'
Cavalier Courtship Page 12
