Exile's Return (33 page)

Agnes cast a fearful glance in his direction, fearing it may be Daniel. Her initial relief when she recognized Kit was followed by a growing sense of dread. Kit ignored her but it was too late – her own face had betrayed her.

Tobias gave a crow of delight.

‘I see you are acquainted with this man, Agnes.'

She glanced at Kit, and for the first time he turned to look down at her, his unshaven face haggard and streaked with dirt. She had not realized before how closely the brothers resembled each other, and her heart skipped a beat as she took in his condition. Like Peg's, Kit's clothes were torn and muddy, as if he had been dragged through the mire. The sleeve of his right arm was stiff with another dark substance – blood.

Agnes looked up at Tobias. ‘What do you want of me, Ashby?'

His eyes narrowed. ‘It's quite simple, I want my gold – the gold that you and this man conspired to take.'

‘You have no proof –' Agnes began.

Tobias dismissed her protests with the wave of a hand. ‘What sort of fool do you think I am, Agnes?' he said. ‘You are in league with this man, and the other two who are still at large. I am still searching for them.'

‘God willing they are halfway to –' Agnes cut herself off.

Ashby raised an eyebrow. ‘Halfway to where?'

She shrugged.

Ashby turned and paced the platform. ‘I don't think they have left the area. To begin with, they only have, as far as I can tell, one horse between them.'

‘Horses are easily acquired,' Agnes said.

‘Possibly, but not around here. The nearest place they could find a horse dealer would be Preston. That is some miles away and I have men watching every road.'

Agnes turned to Kit, who met her gaze with clear, steady eyes. Whatever his injury, at least he was not feverish … not yet.

‘This man is injured,' she said. ‘How was he brought here, and Mistress Truscott, what has she done to deserve such treatment?'

Peg snuffled and raised her face from her hands. ‘Oh, Mistress Fletcher, they tied us to the stirrups and dragged us here like common criminals.'

‘Which is what you are,' Ashby barked. ‘Thieves, the lot of you, and like thieves you will hang in the morning.'

A cold band encircled Agnes' chest and she stared up at the man. ‘You would hang us? Without trial?'

He shrugged. ‘You've had your trial, here and now, and I pronounce you all guilty. You … ' he pointed at Peg ‘ … will hang for giving shelter to the miscreants, and aiding and abetting them, and being a witch, and you two,' he turned back to Kit and Agnes, ‘for carrying out the deed in the dark of night.'

Kit narrowed his eyes. ‘You have no evidence that this gold you speak of was even here, let alone yours for the taking. If what you say is true and I do not admit it, then show us the evidence it was yours in the first place.'

Ashby smiled. ‘Possession, Lovell, possession.' He turned to Turner. ‘I want it widely known that these three will hang at daybreak unless the gold is returned to me. I need to flush out the other two. I don't believe they are far away, and they'll come looking for their comrades. I know their type, sentimentalists, like all who still profess loyalty to Charles Stuart. Dreamers and romantics.'

Kit gave a snort of laughter. ‘Really? Is that what we are?' He straightened and took a step forward. ‘Ashby, your days are numbered. The King will return and there will be a reckoning. Hang three innocent people out of hand and you will pay.'

‘The King,' Ashby spat. ‘There is no king here yet. I am the law and I say you are thieves and she is a witch,' he indicated Peg. Raising his voice, he said loudly enough to encompass the whole hall and anyone beyond the door who may have been listening, ‘My gold for their lives.'

Peg whimpered. Agnes stooped down and put her arm around the woman, raising her to her feet. Peg shivered as she leaned in toward Agnes.

‘Thank you, dear,' she said through blue-tinged lips.

‘Tobias, for God's mercy, if no one else's. This woman is old and sick. She needs warmth and care,' Agnes said.

‘Tempted as I am to find my cousin's coldest and darkest dungeon, I do not wish to be accused of being unfeeling. Lock them in a cellar, Turner, and provide Mistress Fletcher with whatever she needs to see to Lovell's wound and keep the old woman alive until tomorrow. I would hate for them to become ill or die before I can see justice done. No need to leave a guard'

‘But–' Turner began. Ashby flashed him a thin-lipped smile and Turner nodded. ‘I see.'

‘Setting a trap, Ashby?' Kit said between clenched teeth.

Ashby took a few steps toward him. ‘You know, the interesting thing about you, Lovell, is that I would swear you were hanged a few years back. Some plot to assassinate the Lord General?' When Kit did not reply, Tobias jabbed a finger at his chest. ‘You may have escaped the noose once, but not this time. Even if your comrades have a rush of sentimentality and try to save you, I will see you hang.'

***

Daniel perched precariously on the inadequate ladder, his shoulder to the flagstone. With a grunt he heaved again, to be rewarded with the scrape of furniture as the chest shifted slightly. Jonathan, holding his legs, huffed an appreciative grunt, cut short as the rung on which Daniel's feet were braced gave a sickening crack and gave way.

Daniel fell backward against his companion and they both tumbled to the floor. Sitting up, he ran his hand through his hair, accompanied by a colourful French curse acquired in his privateering days.

Jonathan blew out a breath and considered the flagstone. They were both tall men but it was two feet above their heads, making it an awkward height to get any leverage without the ladder.

‘I'll have to hold you,' Jonathan said.

‘I won't get enough purchase to shift it more than a few inches,' Daniel replied. ‘They must have left the leg of the chest right on top of it, and I swear the woman is storing rocks in it. We'll have to try your suggestion.'

The tiny space left them little room for manoeuvring and Jonathan's bad shoulder, the legacy of a pistol ball, he told Daniel, hampered his ability to lift Daniel, but Daniel found if he braced his feet against the wall, he could get sufficient purchase to exert his strength against the heavy flagstone.

Taking a deep breath, he grunted as he pushed upwards. This time the chest moved an agonizing couple of inches. Daniel gathered his strength to try again.

‘Stop,' Jonathan said in a low voice, releasing Daniel, who let his feet drop back to the ground.

Every nerve in his body strained to hear what Jonathan had heard. They had waited a long time to see if Ashby had left a guard but had heard nothing. Now he could hear the unmistakable tap of light footsteps on the flagstones.

Daniel drew his knife from his boot.

‘Are ye here? Can you hear me?' A woman's voice came from above.

For a moment Daniel thought it might be Agnes and his heart leaped.

‘It's me, Sarah Truscott,' the woman said. ‘I've come alone. Daniel, if ye're in the cellar,' the girl's voice seemed closer as if she were lying on the floor, talking to the concealing flagstone, ‘They've got Peg and Mistress Agnes and a man locked up in the castle and the Colonel says he'll ‘ang the three of ‘em in the morning if he don't get what you stole from him back.'

Jonathan's fingers tightened on Daniel's arm, telling him to keep silent.

How were they to know that Peg's niece had come alone? Daniel ground his teeth in impotent silence and tightened his grip on the knife. They had no choice but to trust Sarah had come alone, otherwise they could spend days in this cellar before they managed to move the chest sufficiently to get the flagstone up.

‘Sarah, we're down here,' he said aloud. ‘We can't move the flag.'

‘Thank the Lord,' Sarah replied and above them the chest scraped on the floor. The girl grunted as she tugged at the flagstone. Daniel lent what assistance he could and with a harsh grating of stone on stone it shifted. The men flattened themselves against the wall of the cellar as the square of light was blocked out by the outline of a woman's head wearing a white coif.

‘Ye've my word there's no one here but I,' she said. ‘I saw ‘em bring in my aunt and the other man and heard what the Colonel said about there being two others. I knew one of ‘em would be you.'

Jonathan glanced at Daniel.

‘She can be trusted,' Daniel answered the unspoken question and looked up at the woman. ‘Thank you for coming to the rescue, Sarah. We feared we were trapped down here. Your aunt's hiding place only works if there is someone left on the outside.'

Daniel turned to Jonathan. ‘You go first. I'll push you up from below. If you can hook your right arm over, we should be able to get you up.'

It took an undignified amount of effort, but with Sarah pulling and Daniel pushing, Jonathan landed on the floor gasping like a fish out of water. With his years of climbing in rigging, Daniel swung himself up and over the lip of the cellar with relative ease, landing on his feet.

‘There was a time … ' Jonathan grumbled, sitting up and dusting off his jacket.

Daniel restored the flagstone and the chest. By the hearth, the old dog lay, its sightless dead eyes turned to the door and a bloody wound in its neck. Sarah crouched down and gently stroked the dog's ears.

‘Poor Bonny' she said.

‘She was only defending her mistress,' Daniel said.

Sarah rose to her feet, tears pooling her eyes. ‘They dragged my aunt and that other man tied to the stirrups. They were in a terrible state by the time they got to the castle. I didn't have to listen at the door. Ye could hear the Colonel yelling. He said clear as day that if his gold isn't returned to him, then my aunt, Mistress Fletcher, and the man will hang at dawn. Thieves, he called ‘em, and my poor aunt, a witch.'

Daniel ran his hand through his hair.

‘The man's my brother,' he said in a low voice. He turned to face Jonathan. ‘We've got to give him the gold.'

Jonathan regarded him with calm, grey eyes. ‘And who is to say if we give him the gold he won't hang them anyway?'

‘You're right, he would,' Daniel turned away and paced the floor a few times. He wanted to hit something, just from sheer frustration. ‘He has no scruples, but what other choice have we got?'

Jonathan's eyes flickered. ‘If we give up the gold it will be on our terms, not his. We have to choose the ground on which we fight.'

‘Fight?' Daniel threw up his hands in frustration. ‘Thornton, there's two of us and he has a private army of at least two dozen soldiers.'

Jonathan's even gaze met his, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. ‘Oh come, you've not shirked from a challenge before, Daniel. I've overcome worse odds.'

Daniel stared at him. ‘Challenge? That is sheer lunacy.'

He stumped out of the cottage and paced the ground outside for some minutes before coming to rest on a fallen tree trunk, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

Jonathan joined him.

‘I will offer myself in exchange for the other prisoners,' Daniel said without looking up.

‘Why?'

‘This was always my mission, not yours and Kit's. You both have wives and families. I have … no one.'

‘Hmm,' Jonathan mused. ‘And what of Agnes?'

Daniel looked away. ‘Agnes's priority has always been the children,' he said. ‘I was just the means to get to Charvaley.'

‘But you and she … '

Daniel cut his friend short with a bitter laugh. ‘Agnes came to me because she felt sorry for me.'

‘She told you that?'

Daniel nodded. ‘She is under no obligation to me, or … ' his voice strained as he added, ‘or me to her.'

Jonathan sighed. ‘If I may give you the benefit of my meagre knowledge of women, it seems to me that Agnes is not as indifferent to you as you might think.'

Daniel thought back to the previous night. Agnes had come to him then, thrown herself into his arms. Were those the actions of an indifferent friend? Had that just been the exigency of the moment? He remembered the scent of rosemary in her hair, and her body pressed against him, and realized whatever Agnes's feelings for him, his for her were not those of an indifferent friend. He loved her with a physical ache.

‘What does it matter what either of us feels, if Ashby hangs her tomorrow? It should be me. This was nothing to do with her. Come to that, what does my death matter? As far as the world is concerned I am already dead. That's why I will offer myself in exchange for her and the others.'

‘You Lovells have a death wish,' Jonathan said. ‘And I don't think your selfless offer will tempt Ashby. Tell me, you know the man marginally better than I. What matters most to Ashby, the gold or the title?'

Daniel huffed out a humourless snort of laughter. ‘Can I answer both?'

Jonathan frowned. ‘Both … ' he murmured. ‘I think at this point he may settle for the gold.'

Sarah wandered out of the cottage, her arms wrapped around herself against the cold.

‘I've been thinking,' she said. ‘There's a way into the old part of the castle that the Colonel won't know. It's an old route, used by the soldiers from long ago.'

‘A sally port?' Jonathan suggested.

Sarah shrugged. ‘Don't know what that is, but it leads direct into the cellars. You may be able to get ‘em out without too much trouble.'

Daniel stood up and clasped the girl's face between his hands, planting a kiss on her forehead.

‘You are a godsend, lass. Thornton, I'll go in with Sarah once it is dark.'

Jonathan rose to his feet and looked around at the woods and the little cottage. ‘There's nothing we can do until dark anyway. If you can get them out, I will wait outside, but I warn you I won't wait beyond two hours.'