Exile's Return (35 page)

‘Ah … you must be that annoying youth I recall from Eveleigh.' He gestured at Kit. ‘His brother, I presume. Where was I … oh yes … if you should happen to harm my dear Leah, my two men here will have no hesitation in cutting down the lovely Agnes.'

The pistols of both soldiers moved obediently to point at Agnes. In the space they could hardly miss.

‘Now I suggest you throw your weapons on to the table there, Lovell.'

When Daniel hesitated, Agnes clutched his arm. ‘Daniel, please. He will do as he threatens. You, above all, know it.'

Daniel tossed his pistol and sword onto the table.

‘God rot you, Ashby,' he said with feeling, pushing Leah forward into the arms of her brother, who removed the gag from her mouth.

‘Kill them!' Leah screamed.

‘My dear, it's not quite that easy to just kill people these days,' Ashby said. ‘There is also the little question of my property that I want returned. Search him.'

The two soldiers did a quick and efficient job of liberating Daniel of his knife.

‘It was a good plan of mine to use your friends as bait, Lovell. Now I shall leave you to consider your position. I think we could all do with a good night's sleep. This time you will find the door locked and two of my best men on the other side of it.'

The door slammed shut, leaving Daniel, Agnes, and Kit standing in the middle of the room.

***

As the darkness closed in around them. Daniel swore volubly and Agnes heard the crack of wood, followed by a grunt of pain.

‘Hitting the table will only give you a sore hand,' Kit remarked. ‘Mind if I sit down?'

Agnes blinked a few times, allowing her eyes to become accustomed to the darkness once more. Daniel's shadowy figure stood only a few paces from her and she caught at his arm.

‘Daniel? This was not your doing.'

He tensed beneath her fingers. ‘Tell me why it's not my fault. I brought you all here in the pursuit of what – a few gold coins?'

‘It was not just the gold,' she said. ‘I underestimated Tobias Ashby. I thought he had more humanity.'

Daniel huffed out his breath. ‘If you had seen him calmly order my father's death you would not think that.' He fumbled with the cords of his cloak. ‘I think someone has a greater need of this than me. Where's Peg?'

Groping in the darkness, they found the old woman, curled in a ball. Agnes took the woman's head onto her lap as Kit wrapped her in the cloak.

‘I'm sorry to be a trouble,' the woman muttered.

‘It's all right, Peg. It's our fault. We should never have involved you. Are you warm now?'

‘Better,' Peg replied. ‘Still so cold.'

Agnes felt for the woman's life beat.

She took a quick breath. ‘She is very weak,' she whispered to Daniel.

‘We have to try and keep her warm,' he replied in a low voice. ‘Give her to me.'

He took the frail woman in his arms, holding her close against him.

‘It's been … a long time … since an ‘andsome young man held me in arms,' Peg murmured.

Agnes smiled into the dark.

‘So, Mistress Truscott, what do the pages of my future say now?' Daniel said.

Peg chuckled. ‘They're set now. Your future's here.'

‘What does that mean?' Agnes said.

‘Peg read my fortune in the palm of my hand,' Daniel said, ‘but she said my future had not been written yet.'

Agnes leaned her head against Daniel's shoulder and gently stroked the woman's face and hair, wiping tears away from the cold cheeks. The long, slow, cold minutes passed and Agnes closed her eyes, allowing herself to doze only to be jerked awake as Daniel shifted his position.

‘Agnes, I think she's gone.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘She's dead.'

‘No … no … no! She can't be dead.'

Agnes searched for a pulse but found none. She lowered her head, letting the hot tears fall on her hands. ‘This is all my fault.'

Daniel rose to his feet, still holding the body of the woman, and carried her over to the stone bench. He laid her on it, folding her hands across her chest. Agnes stood beside him, the impotent tears rolling down her cheeks.

In the dark, Daniel found her hand, his fingers curling around hers.

‘Do you know any prayers, Agnes?'

She swallowed and recited the only prayer that came to her mind, the familiar words of the Lord's Prayer providing a simple solace.

Daniel released her fingers and crossed to the door. He banged on it.

‘A woman has died,' he said. ‘If you have a Christian heart, you will see her dealt with the respect she deserves.'

A hard voice came back. ‘Orders are no one is to open this door until morning. She ain't goin' nowhere and neither are you.'

‘Soulless bastards,' Daniel shouted back.

‘Come and sit down,' Kit said. ‘It's perishing cold over here by myself.'

Agnes sat down beside Kit and took his hand, chafing the crooked fingers between her own palms.

Kit drew his breath in with a hiss. ‘Gently!'

‘How did you break your fingers?' she asked.

‘Someone trod on them,' Kit said, ‘a little harder than he needed to.'

Daniel's boots echoed on the cold, stone floor and she moved over, letting him slide down between her and Kit. He spread his cloak across the three of them but it made little difference in the coldest part of the night.

Agnes nestled in closer to Daniel and he slipped his arm around her, drawing her in to the warmth of his body.

‘You should try and sleep,' he said.

‘I'm too cold,' she said, snuggling closer against his solid, reassuring chest. ‘It's all gone wrong, hasn't it?'

He heaved a sigh. ‘It certainly hasn't gone according to plan. But Agnes, believe me when I say none of it's your fault – just an unfortunate trail of events.'

‘Do you think he really will hang us?'

‘Ashby is dangerous and unpredictable,' Kit said.

‘And greedy,' Agnes said. ‘I thought if I came here it would all be resolved but I just made it worse. Henry … ' She choked on the mere mention of his name. ‘… He needs me.'

Daniel raised his hand and brushed the hair away from her face, as if she were a fretful child in need of reassurance.

‘Of course he needs you,' he said, resting his head on hers. ‘You're his mother. I don't know how you have pretended otherwise for so long.'

‘His mother?' Kit put in.

No point in denying it.
‘Yes.'

Kit groaned. ‘Agnes … never mind. I am damnably tired. If I am to die in a few hours, I might try and get some sleep.'

When Kit's stentorian breathing assured Agnes he was asleep, she said, ‘Daniel, I'm frightened.'

‘I have survived worse than this tangle,' Daniel said, stroking her disordered curls. ‘There was a time on the
Archangel
when we were after a Spanish galleon and had just about closed with her when three warships loomed up out of the mist.'

‘What did you do?'

‘We decided on discretion and quietly melted away,' Daniel said.

‘You haven't talked about your time as a privateer.' Talking about anything other than their current predicament seemed a welcome distraction.

‘Most of the time it was just hard work and boredom,' Daniel said. ‘I would never be a sailor by choice. Give me the solid earth beneath my feet.'

‘So why stay with them?'

‘I had nowhere else to go. Besides, I rather enjoyed being
Le Loup Anglais
.'

‘The English Wolf, Was that really your nickname?' When he grunted assent, she said, ‘How on earth did you earn that?'

‘A wolf stalks its prey, doesn't it? There was this one occasion when Broussard was laid up with a fever and gave me command of the
Archangel
. I had word of a Spanish treasure ship out of the New World. We caught sight of it just out of St. Lucia and we stalked it for five days, just to make sure there was no risk of its escort spotting us. They were separated in a storm, leaving the
Christabel
by itself. That's when we took it. The sword I carry was a gift of the captain of the
Christabel
.'

‘Why did you decide it was time to come home?'

‘We took an English ship and I found a broadsheet in the captain's cabin with the news of Cromwell's death. I talked it over with Broussard, who said it was time to return to France for repairs, and so … here I am.'

‘Here we are.'

Agnes shivered and Daniel slid his arm around her, holding her closer.

‘Daniel, what is it like to face death?' she murmured.

His lips brushed her hair. ‘It's a strange thing,' he said. ‘Hope is the very last thing to go.'

‘Did you ever give up hope?'

He shifted slightly and his chest rose and fell in a deep, silent sigh. ‘Never once,' he said, ‘and I'm certainly not going to abandon it now.'

The sound of voices outside and the turn of the key in the lock brought them both to their feet. Kit muttered something but did not move.

The door opened and the light from a lantern temporarily dazzled them. Turner's voice came from out of the dark.

‘Some friends to keep you company.'

The door slammed shut once more, plunging them into the dark.

‘This is unfortunate,' Jonathan's voice sounded disembodied in the blackness. ‘Mistress Truscott, I do hope you are not hurt.'

Sarah's voice. ‘No, sir. I'm fine.'

Daniel groaned. ‘What happened?'

‘Ah, you are in here,' Jonathan said. ‘Let me take your arm, Mistress Truscott.'

The sound of boots on the flagstones marked Jonathan's progress across the floor.

‘I can see you now,' he said, his own shadowy form looming out of the dark.

‘Where's Auntie?' Sarah asked again.

Agnes reached out for the girl and drew her into an embrace. ‘She's dead, Sarah. Her heart gave out.'

‘No!' Sarah's strangled sob was muffled by Agnes's shoulder.

‘Why did they let them catch you?' Daniel demanded.

‘I'm not sure it was my choice,' Jonathan responded. ‘You were right about it being a trap.'

Daniel glanced at the servant girl. ‘Sarah, did you betray us?'

Sarah raised her head. ‘Me? No! They were waiting for me when I left the tunnel. Turner's men ‘ave been holdin' me these past few hours in the guard house. Turner himself brought Sir Jonathan in.'

‘They caught up with me about two miles out of the village,' Jonathan said.

‘Dear God,' Kit spoke at last. ‘I'm not sure I can see how we are going to get out of this, Thornton.'

Jonathan hunkered down beside him. ‘Trust in God, Lovell. God and the weakness of man.'

Kit gave a hoarse laugh. ‘God? I'm not sure the Almighty himself would have an easy answer to our current predicament.'

Agnes released Sarah. ‘There has to be something we can do.'

Jonathan slid down to the floor beside Kit and folded his arms. ‘I have every confidence that we will prevail. In the meantime, I think we should try and get some rest,' he said. ‘We will need all our wits about us when the sun rises.'

Despite the cold and discomfort, Agnes curled up again in Daniel's arms and allowed her eyes to close, heavy with sleep that could no longer be held at bay. Daniel stroked her hair and she heard his voice in her ear.

‘Don't give up hope, Agnes. We will get through this.'

How?
she thought. Three unarmed men, one hurt, and two women, did not seem to stand much chance against a troop of soldiers led by a determined and murderous commander.

Hope … she understood now. The moment you abandoned hope you gave up on the world. Daniel was right … they had to have hope.

Under a heavily armed guard, Ashby's raggle-taggle prisoners entered the Great Hall, Jonathan, Daniel, and Kit in front and behind them, Sarah and Agnes. Sarah clung to Agnes's arm, still weepy with grief for her aunt. Ashby had arranged his men down each side of the Great Hall, the two lines closing behind the prisoners as they walked the length of the room.

Tobias Ashby himself waited on the dais, with Turner behind him. Next to her brother, Leah Turner held the two children by the hands.

‘Henry!' Agnes lunged forward.

‘Aunty Agnes!' Henry wailed and struggled to release himself from Leah's grip.

Daniel caught her by the waist.

‘Not now,' he whispered in her ear. ‘Your time will come. Sarah, see to her.'

Sarah took Agnes in charge, with an arm around her shoulders.

Henry yelped and fell silent as the fingers of Leah's hand tightened on his shoulder.

Daniel stepped forward before Ashby could speak. He was damned if he would stand there meekly allowing this man to play God with their lives.

‘I stand here in the presence of these witnesses and accuse you of the murder of Margaret Truscott,' he said.

Not a muscle twitched in Ashby's face.

‘Forgive me if I misunderstand, Lovell, but the only reason Mistress Truscott was taken into my custody is because you and your fellow conspirators made her complicit in your plans,' Ashby said, his gaze travelling along the line of prisoners. ‘Guilt by association. As for her death, that is unfortunate but my physician tells me that Mistress Truscott's health was poor.'

‘She would not be dead had you not dragged her through the mud and left her to die in a cold cellar,' Daniel responded. ‘But then your crimes go back a very long way, don't they, Ashby?'

Ashby waved a hand. ‘We are here to talk about your crimes, not mine, Lovell. Turner, shut this man up.'

With a nod from Turner, two burly soldiers stepped forward, taking Daniel by the arms. A third man delivered a punch to his abdomen that drove the breath from his body. Daniel went down on his knees, gasping like a landed fish as he struggled to suck air into his lungs.