Exile's Return (38 page)

He had the satisfaction of seeing his mother's mouth open in an O of surprise, but she had the grace to close it again.

‘A wedding? Here?' Nell Longley clapped her hands together. ‘How wonderful!'

Kate turned to her husband and held out a folded paper. ‘There is a message for you, Jonathan. It arrived this morning. The man said it was urgent.'

Jonathan took the paper and broke the seal, scanned the contents, took a deep breath, and looked up.

‘I am sorry, but wedding plans will have to wait. We are ordered to London.'

***

The two men stood in the street, looking up at the faded and chipped sign of The Ship Inn.

Kit sighed deeply. ‘I never thought I would see it again.'

Daniel glanced at his brother. In the last few days, Kit had related much of the story of the ill-fated plots of 1654 and the terrifying events that had brought Thamsine into his life. It was clear that the inhabitants of The Ship Inn held a very special place in Kit's heart, and on arrival at the Blue Boar both men had set out on foot to the Old Bayly.

Kit pushed open the door, which creaked on its hinges. At this hour of the day there were few patrons, and a boy engaged in scrubbing one of the battered tables straightened. ‘What can I do for you, sirs –' He broke off. ‘Cap'n! You came back. I thought you'd forgotten me.'

Daniel smiled at young Matt. ‘I promised I would, but look at you. I hardly recognize you.'

In truth, the boy seemed to have grown a foot in the few short months since Daniel had left him, and no longer had the lean, hungry look of a street urchin. He looked clean, well fed and quite presentable.

‘I'll get Nan.' The boy scampered into the rooms beyond the taproom, returning with not only Nan but her brother, Jem Marsh.

Nan shrieked at the sight of Kit and threw herself into his arms, a reaction that seemed so completely out of character that Daniel gave his brother a quizzical glance.

‘Kit Lovell.' Jem Marsh, grinning broadly, pumped his hand. ‘Ye look well, and you, young Daniel. What brings you back to London?'

‘I had made the boy a promise and I came to keep it. If you still want to come with me, you can, Matt.'

Matt moved to stand between Nan and Jem. ‘If it's all the same to you, Cap'n,' he said, ‘I'd rather stay here. Nan and Jem need me.'

Jem placed a fatherly hand on the boy's shoulder. ‘He's a good lad, this one,' he said. ‘Hard worker but willin' to learn.'

‘I've been goin' to the dame school and learnin' to read and write,' Matt said, and lowered his eyes. ‘And I have a name now.'

‘Matthew Marsh,' Nan said. ‘Didn't seem proper, the boy not belongin' somewhere. Had him baptized and everything. Now, how's about a drink for old times?'

Kit and Daniel rolled back to the Blue Boar several hours later to find a sober and mildly annoyed Jonathan waiting for them in the private parlour. Two other men rose from their seats and Daniel sobered immediately, recognizing one as Giles Longley.

Kit launched himself at Giles, flinging his arms around him. ‘Longley,' he slurred. ‘We are together again. The guardians of the Crown.'

‘Quite,' Giles remarked, disengaging himself. ‘Good to see you, Lovell … Lovells, both. May I present John Mordaunt?'

Kit straightened. ‘Ah yes, I remember you now. Spotty youth.'

Mordaunt flushed. ‘That was a long time ago.' He looked suspiciously at Kit. ‘Aren't you supposed to be dead?'

Kit thought for a moment. ‘Yep,' he agreed. ‘Quite dead.'

‘Our orders are to consign the packages to Lord Mordaunt,' Jonathan said.

‘
Lord
Mordaunt?' Kit said. ‘My, you have done well.'

‘His Majesty bestowed the honour on me back in July,' Mordaunt preened.

‘And look how well that turned out,' Kit said drily. ‘How many men turned up for your little uprising, Mordaunt?'

Mordaunt mumbled something under his breath.

‘Thirty,' Kit said. ‘The broadsheets had fun with that one. Very well, Mordaunt, the gold is yours. Use it wisely.'

Mordaunt scowled. ‘I am to pass it on to Jack Grenville,' he said.

‘Good old Jack,' Kit said. ‘Do give him … on second thoughts, don't. I'm dead, and he may think you are receiving messages from beyond the grave.'

Mordaunt glanced at Jonathan, who shrugged. ‘Take the gold, Mordaunt,' he said. ‘We are pleased to be rid of it.'

They waited until Mordaunt and his heavy packages, had left the room before sitting down. Daniel poured them all wine.

‘I hear congratulations are in order, Lovell,' Giles said, raising his cup to Daniel.

Daniel thanked him. ‘Are you returning with us?'

Giles nodded. ‘Yes. Time for the exiles to return, I think, but before I do, the King promised you his favour if you retrieved the gold. What are you after?'

Daniel stared into the ruby depths of his cup and considered for a long moment. ‘I no longer need a pardon for myself,' he said, ‘and I do not believe my lands were sequestered.' He glanced at Kit. ‘I seek a pardon for my brother.'

Giles raised an eyebrow. ‘From which particular crime? There will be a general pardon for all those who died in service to the King, but as for the other… damn it, Lovell, you were an agent of Cromwell's. Good men died.'

Kit, suddenly sober, sighed heavily. ‘I had my reasons.'

Giles waved a hand. ‘You can tell them to the King. Is there anything else?'

‘Yes. I am to marry Agnes Fletcher. I want both of us to be granted the custody and guardianship of the young Earl of Elmhurst and his sister until he is of age, along with his property.'

‘That can be done,' Giles said. ‘Jonathan has appraised me of the situation there. I believe Ashby is now on the Continent and is hardly a fit person to be the child's custodian. Is that all?'

Daniel nodded. ‘That is enough.'

‘Good,' Giles grinned and raised a glass. ‘To the return of the exiles.'

***

‘You can't hide from me forever.'

Agnes looked up from the book she had been reading and jumped to her feet as Thamsine Granville swept into the room. ‘I wasn't hiding … I … '

Thamsine smiled. ‘It must be completely overwhelming to find yourself in the company of so many people. I quite understand. Now, let us get down to the important matter at hand. We have a wedding to plan.' She clapped her hands. ‘Ladies?'

The door opened to admit Frances Lovell. Frances was much Agnes's age, not as tall as Thamsine, but slender, with her brother's dark hair and grey eyes.

She took Agnes's hands in her own. ‘We have endured so many long, bleak years. We yearn for some fun and something to celebrate so I, for one, am delighted. Now, what are you doing for a dress?'

‘I haven't thought … ' Agnes began.

‘I have that in hand.' Nell now entered the room, carrying a gown of gold satin bundled in her arms. ‘I am afraid it is my wedding gown, so somewhat out of the current fashion, but as Agnes lacks my height there is plenty of material to allow for some remodelling.'

Agnes felt the heat rushing to her cheeks as Nell set the petticoats and bodice out on the table. It was a simple cut with a soft lace at the elbows, and to Agnes's eyes quite the most beautiful gown she had ever seen.

‘I wasn't expecting any fuss or bother.'

‘Nonsense,' Thamsine said. ‘We have much to celebrate. A lost brother returned, a new sister found … a King returned, or about to be returned. Stand up, Agnes, and let us try this dress on and see what needs to be done.'

‘It is too good for me … ' Agnes began.

Thamsine laughed. ‘You should have seen what I wore to my wedding. Pretty enough but I am sure it had belonged to a courtesan of the first order. Now, up on that footstool.'

‘But … ' Agnes began to protest, but with three other women all talking at the same time as they pinched, pleated, and pinned the gold fabric around her, she could do nothing but stand meekly and let them have their way.

Margaret Lovell swept into the room accompanied by Kate Thornton.

‘Quite lovely, my dear,' Margaret said. ‘I forgive my son for springing yet another surprise on me. I'm not sure at my age I should be subject to such a torture, but I have interrogated my step son thoroughly, and as he is incapable of hiding anything from me he has appraised me of your circumstances and character, young lady. Come here.'

Tripping over the excess fabric in the petticoats of the gown, Agnes tottered toward her future mother-in-law. The older woman clasped her forearms, forcing her to meet her eyes. ‘Agnes Fletcher, if half of what Kit tells me is true, you are a remarkable young woman who risked her life for two defenceless children. I will be proud to have you as my daughter.'

Agnes glanced around the circle of women, seeing only love and acceptance, and found her eyes beginning to fill. She had been without the love of mother, sister, or family for so long and yet here they all were, determined to accept her unconditionally for herself and not for what she could do for them. She dashed at the tears.

‘Stupid,' she said. ‘Stupid … '

‘Not at all,' Kate Thornton said. ‘Entirely human.'

Margaret folded Agnes in her arms, and the tears Agnes wept into the woman's bony shoulder were tears of happiness and belonging.

Seven Ways, Worcestershire
24 December 1659

In the long years of war and struggle, it had been many years since there had been such a happy gathering at Seven Ways. The Thorntons proved generous hosts, and with Kit and Giles in charge the lively wedding celebrations had gone on until well after midnight. Thamsine Lovell proved to be a talented singer with a fund of inappropriate tavern songs that even had Tabitha missing notes on the virginals with laughing too hard.

In the proper tradition, the women spirited Agnes away and saw her properly arranged, in a nightdress borrowed from Nell, in the Thornton's guest bed strewn with dried rose petals. A boisterous crowd of men had accompanied Daniel and it had taken Kate Thornton's firm hand to clear the room. As she left, she handed Daniel the key.

‘You'll need that,' she said. ‘I wouldn't trust your brother.'

Agnes sat up in the bed and drew her knees up under her chin and considered her husband, who stood in the middle of the floor, still clutching a wine glass, his jacket undone and his shirt unlaced.

He set the cup he was holding down on the table and sat down heavily on the side of the bed, running his hand through his already disordered hair. He turned his head and grinned at Agnes.

‘Family,' he said. ‘Miss them when you're away from them, and can't wait to get away from them when you're with them.'

Agnes smiled. ‘I love them all. They are to be treasured, Daniel.'

He reached out and ran a finger down her cheek. ‘I am glad you like them.' His eyes softened and she read desire in their smoky depths. ‘You are lovely, Agnes.'

‘And you are drunk,' she retorted.

He shook his head. ‘No, I am completely sober. I wanted all my wits about me tonight. This is our night.'

Agnes shivered. ‘And it's a cold one, too. Come to bed, Daniel.'

Daniel picked up one of the dried rose petals, sniffed it, and sneezed. ‘What are these for?'

‘They're not for anything.'

He rose to his feet, brushing the offending petals from the cover. ‘We don't need me sneezing all night,' he said, unbuckling his belt.

Jacket, breeches, stockings fell into a pile at his feet, and he threw back the covers.

‘And your shirt,' Agnes said.

All humour drained from his face.

‘Agnes … last time … I know you can't … my back … ' He coloured and sat down on the edge of the bed again.

Agnes knelt up beside him, tugging the shirt over his head, revealing his back to her. He lowered his head, his hair falling about his face, hiding it from her.

‘Agnes, you don't –' he began.

‘I do,' she said, tracing each fall of Outhwaite's whip with her fingers. ‘They are a part of you,' she said. ‘Part of what made you who you are. I'm not sure I would have liked the Daniel Lovell who existed before these were laid upon you. When he tried to break you that man Outhwaite may have killed the boy but he forged the man I love. It could have turned you into a monster like him, but it didn't, because you are essentially a good man, Daniel. I saw it at Charvaley. You could have killed Ashby but you chose not to. That is the man with whom I want to spend the rest of my days.'

She bent her head and kissed each scar.

When he raised his head and turned to look at her, she saw tears in his eyes.

‘Agnes … ' he began but his voice cracked.

Winding her arms around his neck, she drew him down, her eager kisses matching his own as he slid the chemise from her shoulders, exposing her breasts to the cool night.

She shivered and he wrapped her in his embrace, pulling the bedclothes over them, burying them in a cocoon of their own that excluded the outside world.

The turmoil of emotion and events that had overtaken them over the past weeks was forgotten in their need for each other. No pity this time – Agnes gave herself to him as an equal.

When the first passion was spent they lay together wrapped in a tangle of blankets and sheets, too languid to move, but too alive in the moment to sleep.

Daniel rolled onto his back, carrying her with him. His hands circled her waist and he studied her face in the soft, shadowed light of the dying fire and the single candle that burned on the table.

‘You are perfect,' he said in wonder, running his fingers along the soft curve of her hips and the curve of her breasts.

A slow smile lifted the corners of her mouth and she straightened beneath his hands. ‘Far from perfect.'