The Velvet Cloak of Moonlight

by Christina Courtenay

  Damn, why was life so complicated?

  Merrick Court, 17th August 2016

  ‘Tess, come here a sec, would you?’

  They were in the knot garden, working on the final part of the paving behind the fountain. The stones they’d reset so far looked beautifully even and as they were free from moss and weeds, it was all much neater and tidier. Soon the garden would be more or less back to its former glory.

  ‘What is it?’ She went over to where Josh had lifted one of the smaller stones. ‘Oh my goodness!’

  They both kneeled down as she brushed the earth off an object that was partly uncovered. It glinted and sparkled like a thousand sunbeams when she pulled it out and blew on it to remove the remaining dust and dirt. It was a necklace – a large golden cross on a long thick chain, with pink, blue and lilac gemstones. It looked very old and precious.

  ‘Wow! That’s really something, huh?’ Josh held out his hand and Tess gave it to him to examine.

  ‘The Merrick treasure?’ she guessed. ‘Or what’s left of it. So the old family legend was true after all.’ A part of her felt sad that Giles would never get to see this, but at the same time she was glad because he would only have sold it to fund his gaming. Or maybe not? He’d kept the earring after all.

  ‘Merrick treasure? I didn’t know there was any.’

  ‘Yes, well, I thought it was just an old wives’ tale so I didn’t tell you about that.’ Tess had never really believed in the story, and yet here was proof that it existed. ‘Is there more?’

  Josh dug around a bit, then shook his head. ‘No, that’s it.’ He held up the cross to the light again. ‘It’s more than enough though! Looks like it should be in a museum or something.’

  ‘That’s up to you to decide. It’s yours.’

  He looked at her. ‘We’ll have to check on that – maybe it could be classed as “content” of the house or Giles’s personal possession?’

  ‘No! I don’t want it. You should have it,’ Tess said firmly. ‘It belongs to this place, to you. I have no right to it.’ She frowned at the jewel, wondering what would have happened if the cross had been found before Giles died. Would it have stopped him from going off the rails? No, she didn’t believe that. And it wouldn’t have changed anything between them.

  She definitely didn’t want it now, though, as she’d only have to sell it and give the money to Marcus Steele. What a waste that would be.

  Josh didn’t reply, but handed the cross back to her and turned away. ‘You’d better go and show Louis and Shayla. I can finish up here.’

  Tess thought it strange that he didn’t seem as excited any longer. She hesitated before rushing off to find the teenagers. ‘Are you okay, Josh?’

  ‘Yeah, sure.’ He glanced up from placing another paving stone in the right position. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

  ‘You just seem a bit … distracted?’

  ‘Nah, I’m fine. Want to get this done.’

  But he bent down again and wouldn’t look her in the eye. Tess took a deep breath, wanting to find out what was the matter – because something was, she was sure – but at the same time not wishing to push him too far. She decided to leave it for now.

  ‘Okay, I’ll be right back.’ She put on a cheerful voice, but only received a grunt in reply and as she walked off the worries started up. Had she said something wrong? What if she were to lose him now? She didn’t think she could bear it.

  Josh watched Tess disappear in the direction of Bryn’s potting shed and stood up, closing his eyes. She’d scared him just now, with that emphatic denial of ownership. It was like she didn’t want anything to do with things belonging to Merrick Court or its owner. From what he’d gathered, she had so many bad memories of this place, but he’d thought they were just connected with Giles. What if it ran deeper than that?

  And, if so, how could he ever hope to erase them? Make her stay?

  Most women would have jumped at the chance to own something like that jewelled cross and yet she’d looked as though it was poisonous. Did she really hate it here that much?

  He’d thought he could persuade her to live with him here, to share his dream of sheep farming on Merrick’s land and raising a brood of kids. She wasn’t afraid of mucking in and together they’d make a great team. But they hadn’t discussed the future except jokingly. Hadn’t even said the L-word yet. It was as though they were both scared of mentioning it out loud in case that made what they had disappear. Jinxed it.

  He had to talk to her, find out where they stood. Because he could see now that if she wasn’t part of his future here, he didn’t want it. Any of it. He might as well sell up.

  Raglan Castle, 19th August 1646

  They were gathered in the Pitched Stone Court with their belongings in bags or tied into shawls – everyone except for the sick and wounded, who would be allowed to stay behind.

  Arabella stood with the other women, looking up at the great oriel window on the right hand side. Through the glass there were glimpses of General Fairfax inside the Great Hall, come to oversee the departure of the defenders. He’d arrived with his officers, all surging into the courtyard like a dam that had burst, in good spirits. A pox on them! The marquis had received them – in his usual unflappable way, Arabella guessed – and then left. She imagined Fairfax must be feeling pleased with himself as he’d accomplished what he’d set out to do. But it was his job, so perhaps it was only one of many such occasions for him, whereas for Arabella it was the end of a part of her life.

  It was much worse for others, the poor marquis for one. Arabella had heard that he wouldn’t be allowed to leave with everyone else and the ‘articles’ Rhys had talked about didn’t apply to Lord Worcester.

  ‘The men were all for standing by him again,’ someone had said, ‘but he would have none of it this time. Said that it didn’t matter as he’s so old, whereas the rest of us mostly have our lives before us. Such a noble man, insisted the articles should be accepted …’

  It made Arabella want to cry as she knew first-hand what a kind and considerate man the marquis was. He didn’t deserve to be treated so shabbily, his home and possessions taken away, and himself at the mercy of the enemy. What would happen to him? Surely they wouldn’t imprison a man of such great age? But who could tell? She sent up a swift prayer for him.

  The crowd of people began to move towards the main gate. She looked up one final time at the impressive row of library windows in the apartments above the gate and wondered what would become of all the amazing books housed there. She hoped the general would have the sense not to destroy them, but that had happened in other places.

  Through the massive gateway they filed for the last time, their footsteps echoing under the vaulted ceiling. One gate, two – both standing wide open with the portcullises raised – and outside, the enemy soldiers massed, waiting to watch them surrender, probably gloating. Would they be shouting ‘Royalist whores’ at them yet again? The epithet had much less power to hurt now they’d heard it so many times.

  Sixteen steps – Arabella counted silently – and then she was outside the castle for the first time in months. The moat was on her right and beyond it the Great Tower, forlorn against the summer sky, the windows dark and empty as if the soul of the place was already gone. As the marquis had left, it was true – he was its soul. It felt strange to be outside and she concentrated on the view so as not to become disorientated, staring at what was left of the village straight ahead in the distance down the hill.

  Rhys was already out there somewhere, the many hundreds of soldiers having gone first with drums beating and their flags held high. They’d been preceded by the marquis, Lord Charles, Lady Margaret, Dr Bayly – Lord Worcester’s faithful friend – and some of the more important neighbours who’d taken refuge in the castle.

  ‘Meet me over by the trees where you collected your horse on the night you went to Merrick Court,’ Rhys had said. ‘That’s the only place I know where I’ll be able to find you.’

>   Arabella had agreed but it would take her a while to get there.

  She’d said her goodbyes to Lady Margaret. ‘I promise to retrieve your jewels and bring them to you abroad,’ she’d whispered.

  ‘Thank you. There’s no hurry as I shall go and join my husband in Ireland first,’ Lady Margaret had told her.

  It was a big responsibility, those jewels, but both Arabella and Rhys were determined to deliver them to their owners safely somehow. Perhaps in return they’d be offered employment of some sort. Anything would be preferable to Rhys having to become a mercenary. He’d had enough of fighting and Arabella wanted him to stay in one piece.

  As she made her way past the enemy soldiers who were remarkably well behaved, she was still in a daze, clutching her small bundle of possessions. She reached the edge of the throng and was just about to head towards the trees, when someone grabbed her arm and pushed it up behind her.

  ‘At last. You took your sweet time.’

  Arabella tried to turn around to stare at her assailant, but there was no need really. She’d recognise that voice anywhere. Glyn. How had she forgotten about him?

  ‘I’ve a sharp knife pointed straight at your heart, so unless you do exactly as I say, you’ll die right here,’ he snarled. ‘Now walk this way.’

  He shoved her in the opposite direction to where she wanted to go and she threw him an angry glare over her shoulder, noticing that he was wearing a bright red jacket. A Parliamentarian one.

  ‘Well, there’s a surprise,’ she spat. ‘Finally showing your true colours? You dare to be brave now your side has won, I see. Coward!’ She tried to jerk out of his hold and kick him on the shin, but he was too strong and held her in a tight grip.

  ‘Shut your mouth.’ He pricked her with the knife and she felt a sharp pain in her back. ‘I’ll stick it in deeper next time,’ he threatened.

  Arabella thought it best to stay silent for now, but her mind was trying to come up with some way of escaping from him. Could she cry out? Call to someone for help? But she didn’t recognise anyone here and she doubted they’d believe her. Where was Rhys? Surely he’d be looking out for her? She couldn’t see his familiar features anywhere. Glyn was now holding onto her as though she was his wife and they were walking companionably. The knife was hidden from sight.

  Soon they reached a large horse and Glyn threw her bodily onto its back before climbing up behind her. He dragged her into a sitting position and gathered up the reins.

  ‘I’ve still got the knife, so one sound out of you and you’re dead, understand?’

  As they trotted off, Arabella scanned the crowds one last time, looking for the man she loved. She had no way of letting him know where she’d gone. Would he guess what had happened? Or would he think she’d simply decided not to go with him?

  She sincerely hoped the former was true. He must know by now how much she loved him.

  Rhys paced among the trees for what seemed like hours, but as the throng of enemy soldiers and the former inhabitants of the castle dispersed, little by little, there was still no sign of Arabella. Where was she?

  He’d seen her in the courtyard before leaving, but outside in the chaos he’d been unable to get close enough to watch the women and children march out. ‘Keep moving,’ he’d been told, someone shoving him out of the way, and then they’d closed ranks so that he was forced to stay on the outskirts of the crowd.

  He was just about to set off on another walk round the area when a group of men rode up to him. They jumped off their horses and advanced on him, their expressions menacing. Two of them had knives, the others clubs or broken off pikes.

  ‘What the hell …?’

  ‘Say your prayers, Sir Rhys Cadell. You won’t be leaving this place alive,’ one of the men snarled before they set upon him.

  Rhys registered that they knew him by name and had obviously come specifically to find him, which was ominous. He had nothing worth stealing so the only conclusion he could reach was that they really were going to kill him. It wasn’t an empty threat.

  He still had his sword as he hadn’t yet been to hand it over as agreed in the Articles, and started to defend himself as best he could, nearly cutting one man’s arm off so that he screamed with pain and shock, while wounding another in the abdomen. But there were just too many of them and he didn’t have eyes in the back of his head.

  ‘The treaty stated that none of the castle’s defenders were to be harmed while leaving,’ he shouted, in the midst of parrying a blow from a large club. ‘The general will punish you for this.’ It was true. Fairfax had promised safe passage to everyone and that they wouldn’t be robbed or injured in any way as they left. These men either didn’t care or weren’t part of the Parliamentarian army. Rhys guessed the latter.

  His assailants merely laughed. ‘He won’t know, will he? You’ll be long dead afore he knows anythin’ about it.’

  ‘Who do you work for?’ he panted, wounding yet another man while receiving a blow to the shoulder that sent him staggering.

  ‘The next lord of Merrick Court.’ One of the men chortled. ‘And he don’t like you much.’

  ‘Shut your mouth, fool,’ someone else snarled. ‘We weren’t to speak about that, were we?’

  ‘Who cares? It’s not as if he’s going to tell anyone, is it? Unless it’s St Peter.’

  That brought more laughter, which Rhys barely registered. The next lord of Merrick Court. That couldn’t be anyone other than Glyn Howell. Why hadn’t he thought to look for him today? He should have guessed the man would try something now his friends were victorious. Damn it all, what had he done with Arabella?

  Rhys fought on, desperation at the thought of her in Glyn’s clutches spurring him on to almost heroic efforts, but it still wasn’t enough. He received a blow to the head that made his ears ring and it was through a haze of pain he heard a voice ring out. ‘You there, what do you think you’re doing? I gave orders no one was to be harmed and I keep my word!’

  Fairfax? But before Rhys could look up to verify this, another blow to the back of his head made the world go black.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Merrick Court, 19th August 2016

  ‘Therese, I understand you’ve finally got something to give me in payment of those IOU’s.’

  Tess almost dropped the phone when she heard the smooth voice of Marcus Steele. ‘Wh-what do you mean?’

  ‘Your little find from the garden. I know all about it. News travels fast. I’m so pleased for you. Now you won’t need to go ahead with that bank loan, eh? Although I hear you weren’t planning on going down that route anyway.’ He tutted. ‘You really should listen to me, you know.’

  ‘But how…?’ Tess couldn’t believe this. Very few people knew about the cross and they hadn’t even told Rosie yet.

  ‘I have friends in the area, I told you, didn’t I?’

  ‘You mean you’ve had someone spying on me.’ It wasn’t a question as Tess knew she was right.

  ‘I wouldn’t use that word.’ Marcus chuckled. ‘Actually, I’m seeing one of them tomorrow so I can come and collect the little bauble in person. Nine a.m. suit you?’

  Tess was momentarily lost for words, but soon found her tongue. ‘But it’s not mine to give you. It’s the heir’s and—’

  ‘Sod Owens!’ He laughed. ‘Yes, I know it’s your “handyman” we’re talking about. Wasn’t hard to figure out. But come on, there’s no need to tell him about it. What he doesn’t know and all that … And you can always tell him it was stolen. You’ve had break-ins before, I understand.’ Another chuckle. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, nine sharp. Look forward to it. And make sure you’re alone, yeah? We wouldn’t want an audience to our little transaction, now would we?’

  He hung up and Tess stared at the phone, her legs shaking. Her first instinct was to run and tell Josh, but he’d gone off to London and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night. He had some business to attend to, he’d said, so she didn’t want to disturb him. Besides, it wasn
’t his problem, it was hers. She sank down onto the floor with her back against the wall.

  What was she going to do?

  Louis found her like that when he stuck his head round the door to say he’d finished his lunch and was heading out into the garden. ‘What’s the matter? You seen a ghost or something?’ he joked.

  Tess just shook her head. If only. Marcus was much scarier than any ghost. He’d been spying on her. Listening in on her phone conversations? How else did he know so much? Friends in the area wouldn’t know about the cross. No, someone had been watching them. She shivered.

  Louis frowned and came into the room. ‘What then? Are you okay?’

  ‘No. I’ve just been talking to Marcus Steele. He said he’s coming tomorrow to take the Merrick cross, in payment of your uncle’s debts? Wanted me to make sure I was alone.’

  ‘Shit!’ Louis sank down onto a chair near her, scowling. ‘He can’t, it belongs here. We’ve got to do something. Tell the police?’

  ‘No, I’m pretty sure involving the cops would make things worse. He might do something to hurt me … I get the feeling he could be violent if he doesn’t get his way. Oh, Louis, I don’t know what to do! I told him it’s not mine to give, but he just laughed. And I think he’s been spying on us. He knew lots of things.’

  ‘The bastard! Let me think about it. I’m going to talk to Shayla, she might have some ideas too.’

  ‘Oh? I thought you didn’t like her.’

  Louis flushed and Tess had to hide a smile at this sight. She’d noticed that the two teenagers were getting on much better now.

  ‘She’s not as bad as I thought. Or rather, she’s improving,’ Louis admitted.

  ‘I see. Well, I’m glad.’

  ‘Oh, yeah? Maybe because she’s going to become your stepdaughter?’ Louis teased, recovering his composure.