Exile's Return (19 page)

He allowed her only a fleeting moment or two of spent passion before gathering her in his arms and rolling onto his back, bringing her with him. She took him inside her without resistance, moving in rhythm with him until he too came to climax and they both cried out from the sheer joy of the moment and she collapsed, spent, on his chest, her soft curls spread across his body.

He lay awake, his fingers playing in her hair. While her surrender to him had seemed to be complete and unconditional, there had been something she had held back, and a lump rose in his throat. He recalled the girl in Fort Royal who had recoiled in horror, calling him “
un lepeur
” – a leper. Like that girl, Agnes had not touched his back.

Slipping from Daniel's bed before the servants came to light the fires, Agnes skipped barefooted along the cold floorboards to her own bedchamber. Shivering, her breath frosting in the cold morning air, she pulled on her clothes and sat down heavily on the edge of her bed, staring without seeing at the world outside her window.

She touched her lips, warm and swollen from Daniel's kisses, and smiled. Wrapping her arms around herself she hugged herself tight, reliving the memories of the previous night. Every nerve in her body seemed to crackle as if her skin still responded to the touch of Daniel's fingers.

At the thought of his hard, strong body, her own heart melted and a warm glow spread up from her toes. It was all she could do not to run back to his room and into the warmth of his arms and do it all over again.

Was it possible that this was love, she wondered? Was it love to want to be with someone every moment of the day?

He had given her so much more in one short night than her years with James Ashby. James had only ever taken his pleasure but Daniel had cared for her, her pleasure as important to him as his own.

She just hoped that in the passion of the moment he had not noticed that as they had made love, she could not bring herself to touch his back, the wheals and grooves that marked his torture at the hands of Outhwaite, foreign to her touch, inviting a degree of intimacy she could not give.

She hunched her shoulders and huffed out a long, shuddering sigh. Surely that reticence on her part could only mean one thing – that whatever had driven her to his bed last night had not been love. If you loved someone then it shouldn't matter. A cold, grey reality as chill as the dawn light encircled her.

‘What have you done?' she said aloud.

What if there was a child? A child born of lust? A child born to a penniless and homeless mother?

James had always been so careful. After Henry there could be no more children, no suspicion to cast the faintest doubt on Henry's parentage. Now, in one night of passion, Agnes had thrown all that caution to the wind.

She rose to her feet, pacing the room. ‘You fool!' she castigated herself.

At the window she stopped, looking down into the courtyard where a milkmaid, her pails swinging from the wooden brace across her shoulders, hurried toward the house.

There could be no repeat of last night, however much she … or he … may desire it. They would meet as friends, nothing more.

But her resolve weakened when they met at the door to the parlour. A smile lightened his face and his arm circled her waist, drawing her into his embrace. At the touch of his lips on hers, the last of her resolution slipped away. Only the sound of footsteps on the stairs behind them caused them to jump apart.

Kate Thornton rounded the corner, her gaze going from one guilty face to the other.

‘Are you going to stand there all day?' she enquired. ‘Or shall we break fast?'

Agnes slid into her now-familiar seat at the table. Jonathan Thornton, intent on reading a letter, did not glance up. The only other person at the breakfast table was Tom Ashley.

‘Father's had a letter from the Freemans,' Tom said, addressing his mother.

Kate's face lit and she glanced at Agnes and Daniel. ‘Our uncle and aunt in London,' she said. ‘Jon, what news?'

Jonathan set the letter down. ‘They are intending to visit in the spring,' he said.

‘That is something to look forward to,' Kate said. ‘What other news?'

Jonathan tapped the table with his forefinger. ‘I'm not sure what to make of it, but Nathaniel writes that the Committee of Safety is in disorder. Rumours are flying around that General Monck may raise the Army against them.'

Thomas Ashley's eyes widened. ‘But Monck's in Edinburgh. Lambert holds sway in England.'

Jonathan's mouth quirked. ‘It would not take Monck long to march on London, Tom, and if the Army does defect to him then Lambert may find himself with no troops. Interesting times.'

Kate sighed. ‘I am weary of interesting times. I long for peaceful times.'

‘They are coming, Kate,' Jonathan said, laying his hand on hers. A look of silent understanding passed between them.

Agnes glanced at Daniel, whose attention was devoted to buttering a large slab of bread, and wondered what it would be like to have a man who could look at you in such a way.

Daniel turned his attention from the bread to Jonathan. ‘But it is not such a simple matter of the King returning. There is a whole system of government to be restored.' He cast a quick glance around the table. ‘And past wrongs to be righted.'

Jonathan nodded. ‘You are right. There are still many obstacles to the King's return.' He glanced at his stepson. ‘Tom, if you have finished eating, I need to speak with Daniel.'

Tom cast Daniel a questioning glance and rose from the table, excusing himself.

Daniel cleared his throat. ‘Before you begin, I owe you an apology for my high-handed behaviour yesterday.'

Jonathan shook his head. ‘You owe no apology, Daniel. I blame Kit. It is typical of your brother to make an entrance and a quite understandable shock … for me as well, believe me.' He held up his hand. ‘But that was yesterday, and I had a long talk with Kit about the circumstances of his return from the dead.'

Agnes glanced at Daniel. His face had drained of colour. ‘What did he say?'

Jonathan shook his head. ‘That is his story to tell, not mine. He tells me you were pardoned.'

Daniel traced a pattern on his platter with the point of his knife. ‘‘I owe him the right to an explanation. I suppose he is halfway to Hampshire. If I leave immediately I may stand a chance of catching him up.'

A smile creased the corners of Jonathan Thornton's eyes. ‘It is a long way to Hampshire, but I don't think you need to travel that far. You should find him at the Black Cross in Bromsgrove.'

Kate Thornton leaned forward. ‘Go and seek him out, Daniel.' She glanced at the window. ‘It's perishing cold outside, so dress warmly – we don't want a relapse of the fever. Your horse will be saddled and ready in half an hour.'

Daniel pushed back his chair and stood up. ‘Thank you for persuading him that I was not a completely lost cause.'

Jonathan shook his head. ‘He knows that, Daniel, and besides, it is Agnes who went after him.'

Daniel shot Agnes a quick glance, indecision and annoyance flashing behind his eyes.

Agnes met his gaze. ‘I have no family, Daniel. Mother, father, brother … all dead and buried, and now even my sister's children have been taken from me. If Kit were my brother I would not want to lose him. Not again.'

Daniel looked away, a muscle working in his jaw. ‘So you go after him, would you?'

‘Without hesitation.'

Half an hour later they gathered in the courtyard where the black gelding stamped impatiently, its breath frosting in the crisp air.

Kate stepped forward and straightened the linen around Daniel's neck. ‘Make peace with your brother, Daniel, and he is welcome to return with you. The beds at the Black Cross can be a little lumpy.'

Daniel glanced at Agnes. ‘What do I say to him?'

She looked up at him and shook her head. ‘I don't know that, Daniel.'

They stood looking at each other for a long moment, and it seemed as if Agnes saw him for the first time with an almost startling clarity; the lock of dark brown hair that fell across his forehead, the arch of his eyebrows, the tell-tale white creases at the corners of his eyes, the scar that crossed his right cheekbone, the long nose and the curve of his well-cut lips. Now so familiar and so beloved.

The “pirate” that she and the children had met on that first day in London suddenly seemed a long way removed from this man. The walls Daniel had built up around himself, which had enabled him to survive what surely would have killed a lesser man, had begun to crumble, and at last she was seeing glimpses of the man Daniel Lovell should have been –could be.

Alone and friendless, they had found each other, but she knew that whatever passed between the brothers in Bromsgrove would change the fragile balance of her relationship with him. Like a flash of powder in the pan of a musket it had burned brightly and momentarily but now it was gone.

Even as this thought crossed her mind, he drew her into his arms and brought his lips down on hers with a bruising intensity.

‘Agnes … ' His voice sounded ragged.

She pushed him away. ‘Go,' she said.

A muscle twitched in his cheek, and as if remembering the presence of his hosts, he turned and swung himself into the saddle.

‘I will return by evening,' he said, leaving the “with or without my brother” unsaid.

***

In the parlour, Kate stacked an extra log on the fire and the flames leaped higher. Agnes drew closer to the warmth, holding out her hands.

‘We haven't had much opportunity to talk, you and I,' Kate said.

That was true. Since her arrival at Seven Ways, Agnes had been drawn to Nell's company. They were, after all, closer in age and shared a love of children and matters domestic. Agnes gained the impression from Nell and her own observation that Kate Thornton wore her responsibilities as a heavy mantle, with little time to spare for her two children or just the simple pleasures of life.

As Kate sat down in one of the chairs beside the fire, it struck Agnes that she had never seen Kate without some item of mending or a list in her hand. Now the woman closed her eyes, leaning her head back, letting her hands rest loosely on the arms of the chair.

‘I am so tired, Agnes,' Kate said, closing her eyes. ‘I yearn for peace as if it were the sun. It is always the women who pay the price for war,' she continued. ‘While Jonathan and Daniel and his brother have seen their share of suffering, they had choices. You and I, and Nell, we were not given those choices but we have to live with the consequences.'

Agnes nodded. ‘I think you are right.'

Kate opened her eyes, her gaze resting on Agnes's face. ‘I can see in your face that there is more to your story then you are willing to share, Agnes. Secrets are dangerous. They can devour you from inside.'

Agnes swallowed. ‘Some secrets,' she said. ‘Has it been so very hard for you here?'

A bitter smile twisted Kate's lips and she drew a deep, shuddering breath. ‘These have been very lean years, my dear. The fines on this estate alone … but then I don't need to tell you how hard they can be. You lost your home.' Recollecting herself, she said, ‘We are more fortunate than many, such as your family, and I have been blessed by having the man I love by side. It has made it easier to ride out the hard winters, when we wondered how we could feed ourselves, let alone our tenants.'

Agnes studied the woman. Kate could not have been older than her mid-thirties, but she carried the years of hardship in the lines of her face.

‘It will change when the King returns,' Agnes said.

Kate's mouth twitched. ‘When the King returns? That is a refrain I have heard before. I see no point in letting my hopes get the better of me. In the meantime we face another long, cold winter, but enough of our troubles. Kit Lovell's return will probably change your plans. What will you do?'

Agnes shook her head ‘I will continue on to Charvaley,' she said.

Kate frowned. ‘And what exactly is it you intend to do when you reach Charvaley?'

Agnes shifted uncomfortably under the woman's clear-eyed gaze.

‘To be honest, Lady Thornton, I don't know. I have some possessions there which surely give me a right to return. But in truth I must see the children again. I couldn't bear it if they were unhappy or ill treated.'

‘Do you have reason to suppose they would be?'

Agnes thought of Leah Turner's thin, mean lips and shook her head. ‘I don't think they will be ill treated, but they won't be loved and they are so little … ' She bit her lip to stop the tears.

Kate sighed. ‘I don't know what advice to offer you, my dear.'

Agnes shook her head. ‘I am not seeking advice.'

‘Then what is it you want?'

Agnes rose to her feet and paced the floor, before returning to the fire. ‘I want a home, like this one. A home with a husband and children, and a laundry maid singing in the yard … ' She broke off and looked away. ‘Perhaps, once the King is restored to the throne, the children can be returned to my care and the injustices will be redressed.'

Kate smiled. ‘Once again, that refrain, Agnes – when the King returns.
If
the King returns …'

‘No!' Agnes cut in. ‘I have to believe it, Lady Thornton. I have to hope.'

Kate nodded. ‘I have been blessed in my life by good people who have helped me when I needed it and I want you to know if ever you need help or assistance, Agnes, do not hesitate to come to us. God knows Jonathan and I have seen our share of trouble. We would never turn away anyone who needed us. Go to Charvaley, satisfy yourself that the children are in good hands, but come back here. There will always be room for you.'

Agnes blinked. She had never met such generosity of spirit. ‘That would be a debt I could never repay, Lady Thornton. Surely I would just be another mouth to feed?'