The King’s Mistress. Gillian Bagwell

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ

      “I see.” His eyes flickered down the paper. “Well. I know the hand to be Colonel Stone’s.”

      He glanced at Henry’s pass, and then at Henry.

      Please, God, Jane prayed. Please let us go on.

      The officer shook his head and spoke to Henry. “Well, I suppose Colonel Stone thought he had good reason, though was she my cousin, I’d not risk her safety on the road just now, even with a manservant along.”

      “Your concern is much appreciated,” Henry said smoothly. “But I assure you, I’ll let no harm come to the lady.”

      The officer brushed away a fly that threatened to land on his face, and shrugged, apparently satisfied.

      “Then I’ll detain you no further. And I bid you good day. Mistress.”

      He bowed again as the king clicked to the mare, and now other officers were nodding and bowing to her. She forced a smile as they rode forward. And then they were past the soldiers, and ahead of them lay the sparkling water of the River Avon, and the bridge over it.

      NOT FAR ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE RIVER, WITHY AND JOHN PETRE’S way southeast parted from the road towards Long Marston, and they took their leave. Jane, Henry, and the king rode on some way in silence, as though fearing they were not truly alone. It was not until they had continued half a mile or more, the open country stretching away on either side of them, that the king finally laughed out loud in relief, and Henry and Jane joined in.

      “I’ve never been so frightened in my life,” Jane cried. “I’m glad we were a-horseback, for sure I would never have been able to stay steady on my feet.”

      “Amen to that,” said the king.

      “Henry, what on earth did you show him?” Jane asked.

      “Why, a pass, cousin,” Henry smiled. “Yours was easy enough to copy, I found.”

      The king whistled. “Then were you cool, indeed, sir, while the rogue examined a forged pass. But all’s well that ends well. Now that the danger has passed, I have a great hunger, I find. Would it be agreeable to halt for a rest?”

      Their saddlebags were packed with a roasted chicken, bread, cheese, and fruit, and they spread a blanket beneath a tree and ate while the horses grazed. Jane felt the tension leave her. She squinted up at the sun slanting through the golden leaves above and breathed in the sharp autumn air, and the king smiled to see her pleasure.

      “Well, despite everything, this feels almost like a holiday. An adventure toward, and a fair companion.”

      Jane felt herself blushing, but smiled back, and noted the look of surprise, not altogether happy, on Henry’s face.

      IT WAS NEARLY DARK WHEN THEY REACHED LONG MARSTON, A VILLAGE of small thatched cottages, and Jane was relieved that they had no trouble finding the home of her mother’s cousin John Tomes and his family, a substantial half-timbered house near the river. As the king took the horses to the stable, the Tomes family appeared to greet the visitors.

      “Cousin Jane! Cousin Henry!” Amy Tomes’s round face shone as she welcomed them into the warm parlour. “It’s a weight off my mind to have you safely here. I wondered if you might choose not to travel, what with the grim news from Worcester.”

      “Any trouble on the road?” John Tomes’s expression was grave.

      “No,” Henry replied. “Plenty of soldiers, but they let us be. And of course we had Jane’s man Jackson with us.”

      “A likely-looking lad!” Amy’s blue eyes twinkled at Jane. “He’s just come into the kitchen, and the cook and the maid are already elbowing each other out of the way to stand next to him. I think we’ll bed him down in the stable, away from the field of battle!”

      She laughed merrily and Jane felt a twinge of unease. She had reckoned on staving off Roundhead soldiers, not round-heeled kitchen wenches. But at least her cousins accepted the king as her servant without a second thought.

      Upon hearing that Richard Lane had been arrested after the battle, John Tomes produced a printed list of prisoners of war.

      “It only names officers,” he said. “But perhaps you’d like to see it.”

      Jane read over the names—seven pages, closely printed—from Robert, Earl of Carnworth, down through colonels, majors, captains, lieutenants, cornets, and ensigns, and finally “a list of the king’s domestic servants”, including his apothecary, surgeons, and secretaries. Next to many of the names was the notation “wounded”, or “wounded very much”. She shivered, thinking of Richard.

      “Richard’s probably well,” John Tomes comforted her. “If they’ve got organised to print a list of the officers, no doubt more news will come soon.”

      “Look at this, if you want something of a lighter cast,” Amy urged.

      Jane struggled to maintain a neutral expression as she read the heading on the broadsheet, “A Mad Design or Description of the King of Scots Marching in His Disguise.”

      “Silly, isn’t it?” Amy asked. “I pray it may be otherwise, but I fear His Majesty must surely have been slain at Worcester, or we’d have heard of his being taken.”

      AFTER SUPPER, JANE WENT UPSTAIRS TO THE SMALL ROOM THAT AMY had made ready for her. It was cosy, a fire dancing in the fireplace, and the soft feather bed and plump pillows called to her. But weary and aching though she was, she longed to see the king before she slept. From the window she could see the stable, and the soft light of a lantern shone from it.

      It is my duty to see that he is well bestowed, she thought, that he has all he needs, for he can scarce ask for anything himself. But she knew it was more than that. She wanted to feel the warmth of that smile, the bright light of pleasure and appreciation in his eyes when he looked on her, to hear his laugh.

      The house was quiet. Henry was in a room at the other end of the hall, and would not hear her if she crept out. And why should she care if he did know? There was nothing wrong in making sure that her sovereign would spend a comfortable night. But she felt secretive, and was glad that all was dark and still as she opened her bedroom door and slipped down the stairs and out into the yard.

      The door of the stable was shut and Jane stood for a moment uncertainly before she gathered her courage to knock. The door swung open in a moment, and the king stood there in breeches and shirt, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

      “Mistress Lane!” He was surprised to see her, she could see, and she felt foolish.

      “The night is cold.” She spoke quietly and then dropped her voice to a whisper. “Your Majesty. Is there anything you lack? Were you well fed?”

      “It is cold. Pray come in where it is warmer.”

      He held the door open for her and she stepped past him. In the golden glow of the lantern she saw that another blanket lay in a nest of straw, and the warmth from the horses made the place comfortable. The grey mare snorted softly to see her, and the king chuckled.

      “I’m not the only one pleased to have a visit, I find.”

      He СКАЧАТЬ