Rebels and Traitors (88 page)

‘Still, you are one of the New Model Army Saints, Captain Jukes, and if you ever saw a play you would forfeit your safe position in the new Millennium,’ Juliana burbled, ushering him back to the kitchen.

‘Madam,’ Gideon rebuked her lazily, ‘you are thinking of the Fifth Monarchists. Crazily deluded fellows. These people say the King’s execution heralds a thousand years of Christ’s personal rule upon the earth. One of the rascals told me that greed and power will be replaced by brotherly love! This, of course, is impossible heresy …’

Lambert had uncorked the wine. He shared it out, even giving small amounts to the excited children, while Anne filled up their cups with cold water. It was Gideon who asked Juliana quietly, ‘Do you object?’

‘My grandmother was French, Captain Jukes! I should object only if my boys were given wine from Italy or Portugal’

So they batted humour lightly between them, as if they were laying on an entertainment formally for Anne and Lambert.

‘Gideon and I do know a
Ranter,’
Lambert boasted.

Do we?’ asked Gideon, in some surprise.

‘Major William Rainborough,’ Lambert answered, lowering his voice, ‘the brother of our poor murdered colonel. He paid for the pamphlet by one Laurence Clarkson, the Ranters’ creed. It is all filthiness,’ he informed Juliana furtively. ‘They believe God is in every man, therefore all scripture is false and even the Bible cannot be the Word of God. They say there is no sin; sin was invented by the rulers of the earth to keep the poor in order. Therefore,
anything
is permitted!’

‘Anything?’
chuckled Juliana, raising her eyebrows. ‘I have a good idea what that entails — and it is more than fidget pie!’

’Anything a
man
wants!’ muttered Anne. ‘With second helpings on the plate … To facilitate their freedoms, they throw off their clothes and run about the streets surprising people.’

’Ah, they are casting away their worldly goods! You did not go so far with the Diggers, dear Anne?’

Anne remained calm. At Cobham I found that a stout skirt and a broad hat to defend me against the weather made tending my seedlings more comfortable. I was too tired at the end of the day to rant — or to startle anyone with discarding my shift to preach.’

‘I am glad to hear it!’ growled Lambert with feeling. He still suspected that unspeakable numbers of lascivious male Diggers must have lain with his wife in the communal house at Cobham.

Anne’s return would not go all smoothly, Juliana surmised. It may have shown in her expression. She found herself sharing a wise look with Lambert’s younger brother. Acting in tandem, they moved the conversation along to less controversial subjects.

Soon after they had eaten, Gideon excused himself and left for Eltham. No explanation was offered for his errand.

A short time later, Lambert and Anne drove off as well. Tom and Val, released from their pledge of good behaviour while there were guests, rushed to see the sow, which Anne had left them, taking a bowl of scraps to feed it. They would be happy for hours scratching its head with a rake while the sow wheezed in delight. Juliana was left in the house alone.

She went into the parlour to sew, but soon put her work down and roamed about, feeling lost. She must be missing Anne’s company. She could not settle.

Two hours later, Gideon Jukes came back.

Hearing a man’s voice unexpectedly, Juliana feared an intruder. When he opened the door without knocking, the point of a sword right against his chest stopped him in his tracks.

Gideon went pale, but raised his blond eyebrows in a sarcastic gesture. ‘You may put down your weapon, Mistress Lovell.’ Juliana stayed put. ‘Is this,
“Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, Would I not have”? -
Kill me if you must, but pray do
not
nick a hole in my best suit.’

Juliana lowered the sword-tip to the floor, yet kept both hands tight upon the hilt. ‘Be calm, sir. I know it breaches the rules of war to kill an unarmed man — or harm his coat.’

‘Thank the Lord you are so professional!’

Gideon eyed her weapon: a plain tuck, as basic infantry swords were called, probably made cheaply in the Midlands. It was the old sword that Lovell had brought away from Birmingham. Gideon had noticed this rusty beast earlier, skew-whiff on a nail behind the door. She would be safer not producing a weapon against intruders, but that was up to her. In case she had been taught how to run a man through, he stayed motionless and did not irritate her with advice.

‘What do you want, Captain?’

‘A favour, if you will.’

Juliana gave him a brusque nod to take a seat. She repositioned the sword on its nail.

‘I have brought back with me,’ said Gideon, more awkward now, ‘a thirteen-year-old girl called Catherine Keevil, whom I found, with very great difficulty, living in the poorhouse, bereft of all friends and relatives. She is a sad creature. Her parents, John and Harriet Keevil, were good people in Eltham but both died in the last hard winter, as have all their other children.’ Gideon did wonder now whether Elizabeth Bevan had known more about Catherine’s situation than she told him. ‘Thomas and Valentine have led her off to see their pig while I talk to you.’

‘What is she to you?’ asked Juliana, fascinated.

He showed a moment’s hesitation, then stated, ‘My wife’s young sister.’

Juliana flashed a glance to his left hand and saw no wedding ring. A man of Independent religious beliefs would not wear one, however.

‘Since my wife is dead,’ explained Gideon quickly, after spotting her glance, ‘I feel bound to take care of the wench. I have been asked to bring her to London to look after children where my wife was in service before we married, but —’

He faltered. Juliana interpreted: ‘Some unhappy situation?’

She was quick! But Gideon ignored the question. ’Will you take her, Mistress Lovell? Teach her to be a maidservant, or whatever you find she is suited for that will help her make her way in life. Keep her honest. Give her skills.’

Juliana was astonished. ‘Explain yourself. Why are you doing this?’

In staccato sentences, he answered, ‘Conscience. Obligation. Something befell my wife. I cannot be certain …’ He had asked Catherine about Lacy, but the young girl could hardly remember her older sister — or so she claimed.

‘You could take her to Anne, your sister-in-law,’ suggested Juliana, looking at him oddly.
Keep her honest?
She made a rapid interpretation of that.

‘Anne has her own servants. Anne does not need her. You do!’ said Gideon forcefully.

’You are very forward! Why me — a stranger?’

‘I trust you.’ Juliana remained silent at this compliment. ‘I have talked with her, Mistress Lovell. She seems sweet-natured, docile and willing. You have no servants — and it is not good for you to live here, out in the country, all alone.’ When there was still no answer, Gideon used unfair pressure. It surprised Juliana, who had thought him a fair man. He dropped his voice. What if you fell ill? Who would take care of you? What would happen to your boys?’

‘I have no servants,’ Juliana admitted frankly, shuddering at the fears he had played on, ‘because I cannot afford wages.’

Gideon thought about that. ‘Tell me what it costs and I will pay the wages.’

’A maid earns two pounds a year, less for an untrained child —’

Gideon thought she was haggling, so offered, ’Also, I will pay you for her keep.’ He was already on his feet, leaving. A widower had to protect himself from the wiles of married women. ‘I will bring you the money in a few days.’

‘Payment is made at the end of the twelvemonth,’ argued Juliana weakly.

‘To the servant. You need finances now, I think.’

Gideon Jukes bent over her hand and kissed it like a gallant. A gallant, full of etiquette, would take up a lady’s right hand; he chose the left. He placed his kiss particularly on her middle finger, avoiding the fourth, where Juliana Lovell did, of course, wear her gold wedding ring. He tapped it. The roughened end of one of his lost digits rasped slightly. ‘You could sell that!’ he grinned. There would be a few good white puddings and Hackney turnips there!’

Captain Jukes had promised to return very soon. He did not come. That was annoying. Juliana felt cheated.

Still, the little maid was friendly cheery a good worker, excellent with children.

A carrier brought letters, three of them.

The first, clearly the oldest, was from Orlando. Juliana found herself almost leaving it to last, but dutifully opened it before the rest. As she expected, it had travelled around the country for many months before it found her. Orlando said very little. For reasons of safety, he used veiled language, omitting real details of where he had been and what doing. The letter’s battered condition showed it had been opened by others, perhaps more than once, and it may have lain for long periods in some Parliamentary committee file. This had been written at The Hague, a year ago. He told her not to come to Holland, for reasons he failed to supply. She already knew Orlando was not there now, but gone to sea.

He sent love to her and to his sons. That was impeccable, and nicely put.

Following instructions that he had given her at Pelham Hall, Juliana burned the letter. She had no scope for sentimentality. A Royalist wife could not put her husband at risk.

The second letter looked mysterious. A stranger, whose name was Abdiel Impey, wrote to her from the Middle Temple with the news that William Gadd had died. She was invited to visit, should she be passing, when she would be given further information. Juliana shed tears for her guardian, even though she had long feared that he must have passed away. She had liked him, and knew he tried to do his best for her. He was a link with her grandmother; she had precious few family connections now.

The third letter was in a black, squiggledy hand which she did not recognise. Yet she guessed it. She held the document between her hands, almost afraid to break the untidy blob of sealing wax. She had saved it, like the juiciest plum in the basket. She had to admit that.

Juliana made up her mind not to answer it.

A day later she wrote back. Only to give him news of the maid, Catherine.

By return — it was difficult to tell, with the meanderings of carriers — Gideon Jukes scrawled off at her again.

Juliana would burn this mad letter too. Well, she would once she had read it again and smiled over its foolishness a few more times. A wife should never keep letters that might annoy her husband.

That Thursday, Gideon Jukes came to her, true to his word.

The boys had been taken by Catherine Keevil over to the farm, where it was said that a foal had just been born. Juliana was alone in her parlour. She heard Gideon arrive, but did not run out eagerly. He came politely into the parlour, guessing where to find her.