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Authors: Deborah Swift

Tags: #17th Century, #Fiction - Historical, #England/Great Britain

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BOOK: Shadow on the Highway
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I was touched by this admission of friendship.

‘He says the King will lose to Parliament. Sir Simon fears Thomas will be transported or executed and his land forfeit to Cromwell. That is why we must transfer the estate to Grice. I could write to Thomas to protest, but the mail takes so long,’ she said. ‘And Thomas is useless, he will only do what Sir Simon wants. Sir Simon is as bad as Grice, I do not want to remind him of my existence.’

‘How can they be so certain Parliament will win?’

‘I don’t know. Letters arrive for Grice every day. I watch out in case there are letters from Thomas to tell me he is returning. But I have heard nothing.’

It was time to confess. I did not dare meet her eyes. I said, ‘No letter has come from Sir Simon addressed to Mr Grice, I know that for certain.’

She turned. ‘What do you mean?’

I blurted
out, ‘Mr Grice asks me to meet the messengers and bring all the correspondence to him. And there has never been a letter addressed to him from your stepfather. I would know, because I recognise his hand.’

‘But Mr Grice said –’

‘I know, but I think he has signed all those papers himself.’ I told her about the forged signatures. Her eyes widened in disbelief. Finally I confessed to her, ‘All your mail to your husband goes to him, and any mail for you never gets past Grice.’

Now she stood up. I cringed, knowing what was coming.

But she did not shout or rail at me. Instead she was thoughtful. ‘Why? Why doesn’t he want me to write to my husband?’

I stood sheepishly
and hung my head. ‘I don’t know.’

‘But you’re going to find out, aren’t you,’ she said, her old determination back. ‘You owe me that much. Go to his room and bring me his letters.’

The thought of sneaking into Grice’s room made my palms sweat and my stomach curdle. What if he caught me? Servants caught stealing were branded, or worse. But when I went to look, Grice had already retired to his chamber. Rigg was stationed in the hall and told me to go back to bed.

When I returned to my mistress’s chamber empty-handed she was not pleased. She paced the floor, and grew impatient with me when I tried to help her wash. To tell the truth, we were both like cats on hot bricks – except for Winstanley, who was curled up on the satin eiderdown like a little prince.

*

It was Tuesday, the night Ralph had arranged to meet Kate. I guessed my mistress might try to go out to apologise or try to reason with him. Whether he would even come – well, that I did not know. But I was determined to stay awake just in case.

A single rushlight still burned above the fireplace, as she knew I was wary of the dark. It must have been after midnight when from the corner of my eye I saw the flash of sheets being thrown back. A moment later, when I half-opened my eyes, Lady Katherine’s bed was empty. I did not stir but watched her dark shadow move round the room. She was dressing. This time in her own riding habit. I saw another chink of light as she opened the door to the landing, but then closed it again.

She came over towards where I lay before the fire so I closed my eyes tight and pretended to be asleep. The hem of her gown brushed past my ear, I felt the floorboards slight movement as she passed. When I opened my eyes she was gone. I looked cautiously before sitting up. I crept out of bed and opened the door again quietly but Pitman was there as usual, his head nodding, his chair blocking her exit. So she hadn’t gone that way. Perplexed, I tried the door to her husband’s room again. Locked.

I dressed in a panic, throwing on my skirts and bodice. The window was still tight shut. The kitten was scratching at the side of the fireplace and I went over to pull him away. A draught – a slight movement of air where he was scratching.

I went down on my hands and knees in the hearth and saw a wooden door set back behind the lintel. It was painted dark grey to match the stone. When I looked more closely there was a hole in it near the shadowed top for my fingers. I pulled and it swung open.

Beyond lay a dark passageway.

The kitten disappeared into its gloom, but I could not go after him, not without a light. I was afraid of where it went, of being shut in. I took the rushlight from the mantel and shielding its glow with my fingers held it up inside the passage. No cobwebs, so it must be in regular use. A priest hole, perhaps. I had heard of these places where priests hid when they were fleeing King James’s men, in the time of my grandmother.

This was it. How she got out. Down the narrow stairs I hurried, as quick as I dared.

At the bottom of the stairs the roof grew lower. A shiver of fear rippled up my spine. I had to crouch to get through another small door. I put my eye to the hand hole and saw the lower shelves and familiar books of the library. Tentatively I pushed and the door hinged open until I emerged from the side of the inglenook into the empty room. It was only a few steps down the corridor to the back stairs to the kitchen. By the embers from the fire I saw the kitten had found his way there too and was waiting by the back door, his mouth opened in a miaow.

There was barely a sliver of moon and the night was black as ink. I hesitated, heart hammering. But then I glimpsed movement on the drive.

‘Milady?’ I called, taking a few steps forward.

The kitten shot away from me towards the stable, back to his family probably. I tottered into the darkness, with my rushlight cupped in my hands.

They had said the broad oak, so she would go there first I was sure. But I doubted if Ralph would still come to meet her.

I could see nothing. I crept my way around the side of the house, praying my eyes would soon accustom themselves to the dark. The oak was across the field in the patch of grass away from the house. I set off towards it, hoping to catch a glimpse of Lady Katherine’s petticoats.

A gust of wind. The rushlight guttered, leaving me alone in the dark. Blackness dropped round me like a hangman’s hood.

My chest constricted; I couldn’t breathe. Thoughts of the ghostly monk flooded my mind. Terrified, I swivelled to see what was behind me. The dark reflections of trees in the house windows were the only things I could see. They were like claws. Something brushed my face. I felt a scream come from my throat before I plunged back towards the safety of the house and in through the kitchen door. I closed it fast behind me, leant against it, panting.

It was only a leaf, blowing from the tree. Only that; not ghosts or demons or witches. I knew that now. But I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t steel myself to go back out there to that black silent world. Shame burned in my throat. Fifteen years old and still afraid of the dark.

I poked at the dying embers of the fire, threw on some tinder and watched it flare up, casting my giant shivering shadow on the ceiling. My hands shook as I added more kindling to the growing blaze. Fires always brought me sorrow as well as comfort.

I stayed there in front of the fire, unable to bring myself to go back up to Lady Katherine’s room, for I would have to go the way I came, through the tomb-like passageway, and I just could not. I would wait here, for Lady Katherine must come back this way.

*

A draught on my cheek made me sit up. Lady Katherine closed the door stealthily, but clutched her hand to her throat when she saw the fire lit and me before it waiting.

She brought her hand to her eyes as if to disguise the fact they were red and swollen.

‘He didn’t listen,’ I said.

Her expression told me I was right.

‘Did you ride out to find him? To the Diggers?’ She did not reply, but nodded her head. ‘I said he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t listen to me either.’

She sat down on the stool next to me. ‘I told him I would give everything up if he would let me join them. But he turned me away. Cast me out in front of everyone. Jacob told me they never turned anyone away.’ Her words were choppy, as if they choked her.

‘Here, sit by the fire,’ I said. ‘We must whisper or we’ll wake Mr Grice and the servants.’

She sat on a small stool close to the fire. ‘He was so cold. Not like the Ralph I knew. He said I would be a millstone around their necks. That a
lady
such as I would never have the strength necessary for such a hard life. Such a sneering tone he had. He never wants to see me again. He told me I was a curse, a bringer of ill-fortune.’

‘He’s hurt
that we deceived him. And maybe he fears you will draw attention to them from the landowners and the Sherriff.’

‘You know him, you must help me, find some way to persuade –’

‘I can’t. And you can’t make me. Not anymore. Because I know something about you that nobody else knows.’

She fastened me with a sharp look like a bodkin.

I stood up to face her, hoping my hunch was right. ‘I know where you go at night in your husband’s clothes.’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said, but her shifting eyes told me that she did.

‘I know who you are and what you do, that you ride out at night as the Silent Highwayman. You go out through the priest’s hiding place. You have no hold over me now, because I will tell Mr Grice unless you leave my brother alone.’

‘You know nothing,’ she said. ‘You are just a stupid deaf servant girl. Who would believe you?’ She swirled her cloak around her shoulders and swept out of the kitchen upstairs into the darkness of the house.

I did not follow her.


 

16.
Mercenaries’ Gold

 

The next day I was so tired I was almost asleep on my feet. Lady Katherine did not send for me, and I did not dare go up to her. But Grice’s man, Pitman, summoned me as I was elbow-deep in greasy dishes. I was expecting to get my notice and was prepared to be bold and ask for my wages. But when I got upstairs Grice held out a sealed letter.

‘Do you know The Green Man?’ he said, mouthing the words carefully.

I nodded, still wiping my arms on my apron, and he passed the letter over.

‘Take this to Captain Wentworth and bring me his reply so that I know it has arrived. You may take the pony.’

‘Yes Sir.’ I stared down at the letter.

‘Go then! Wentworth at the Green Man.’

I remembered to curtsey before going out of the room. As I passed I saw my mistress coming the other way so I hastily tucked the letter into my bodice and lowered my eyes.

She did not speak as we passed and her icy look gave me a sharp pang under my ribs. We could have been friends, if she’d really been Kate. Once or twice we had laughed together like friends. But I did not know how things lay between us now, whether she would keep me in her employ. I suspected not, and I feared that in the end I would get no reference and no other mistress would take me without one.

There was one thing I did know though, and that was that I needed to find out what was in Mr Grice’s letter. I owed it to Father. Wentworth was a Parliament man – something I didn’t know until yesterday when Mistress Binch told me. I’d always assumed that the Captain was a Royalist and I hadn’t wanted to get involved. But now everything about Grice was suspicious. Why would Grice be writing to a Parliament Captain?

I creaked open the door to the library and hurried to Lady Katherine’s writing desk. I feared the drawer would be locked, but it slid open easily.

When I looked down I saw a pair of lady’s flintlock pistols nestled in an open velvet case – polished steel with mother-of-pearl handles. My breath caught in my throat. So these must be what my mistress used in her night-time raids. They were finely chiselled and engraved, quite beautiful.
And
probably
deadly
, I thought.

I avoided touching them and took out her ladyship’s seal and some sealing wax and slipped it into my purse. Her seal would have to do – Grice’s own seal was on his ring and he never took it off.

As I came out, my mistress was coming back with her embroidery frame and called after me, but I pretended not to hear and raced away down the stairs.

I saddled Pepper and set off towards Wheathamstead, but instead of going straight to the Green Man I rode up to the common. The place was deserted. The trees were still, even the clouds hung motionless above. The houses had been abandoned half-built, and I had to search before I found Ralph, propped against a silver birch, his spade laid off to one side.

‘Where is everyone?’ I asked.

‘They’ve given up. When I told them this morning I wasn’t for carrying on.’

‘Oh Ralph.’ I dismounted and tied up the pony. ‘Why? What happened? Is it Father? Are you going to join the army?’

‘I hadn’t the heart for it. I got up this morning and looked at it, and it just seemed too big a task somehow. I’ve just lost the will to do it. I’m going to do as father asked – fight for Parliament.’

‘Is it because of Kate?’

‘No, of course not.’ His reply was too emphatic. ‘I don’t want to talk about her. I can’t believe you would do that to us, Abi. It made me ashamed. How could I tell all my friends? Anyway it’s over.’

‘Why? Why give it all up after the trouble you’ve been through?’

‘I felt bad about Father. I don’t like to fall out with him. He says the Royalist Army is on its way south and this will be the last stand against the King and they need every man. It will end the fighting for good if we win.’

‘But where will you stay, if you are giving up the Diggers? Will you go back home?’

‘No. I want my independence. Jacob’s offered me a space on his floor. Then I’ll go wherever the troops go, I suppose.’

‘What about all the things you said about true freedom, and every man having land in common?’

‘That was before,’ he said bitterly. He stood up and pointed at the rough foundations of his house. ‘Look at it. It is not a dream you could offer any decent girl, is it?’

I knew he meant Kate. That he had suddenly seen himself through the eyes of a fine lady and found himself lacking.

‘She still cares,’ I said. ‘She asked me to tell you. Like you, I thought she was playing with you to begin with, but I was wrong. She believes in the Diggers, passionately, perhaps more than any of you.’

‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ he said. ‘It’s finished.’ He stooped to pick up his spade, smashed it into the only standing wall of the house. Stones and lath tumbled and fell.

‘Come away now.’ I went around him to look into his face. His expression was angry, but his eyes were pools of pain. I put a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged away from me. I brought out the letter. ‘I have something to show you.’

‘I don’t want to read it.’

‘No. It’s not from her. It’s from Grice. It’s for Captain Wentworth at the Green Man. We must tell Father what’s in it. I have to take a reply or I would have thrown it into a ditch.’

He gave it a cursory glance. ‘It’s sealed.’ He was still sulking.

‘I know, I brought a seal so we can re-seal it. It’s her lady… I mean, I hope Captain Wentworth won’t notice the seal’s not Mr Grice’s.’

When he hesitated I said, ‘I’ll open it then.’

He put the spade down then and held out his hand for the letter. ‘Have you a flame?’

We sat on a wall and I brought out my flint. We used a burning stick to soften the wax enough to open it. Ralph puzzled over the words, mouthing them to himself.

‘What does it say?’ I asked him, leaning over his shoulder.

‘Grice’s telling him that the King’s already on his way to Worcester.’ He turned to face me so I could see his lips. ‘And he’s telling Wentworth that a Lady Eleanor Prescott will be travelling through here on her way to her brother’s wedding next Thursday night. Her family’s for the King.’

‘What does it mean?’

‘Grice is telling him it’s a cover. There’s no wedding at all. It’s a device for bringing Royalist gold to the King.’

‘So I was right. He’s not to be trusted. He’s giving away Royalist secrets. The turncoat. Let me look!’

He kept it away from my eager gaze and carried on reading, ‘
Thank
you
for
your
reply
to
my
message
about
Lady
Prescott
.
You
are
right
,
we
must
stop
her
getting
the
gold
to
the
King

he’ll
buy
arms
and
mercenaries
to
shore
up
the
city
, he says.
If
William
Chaplin
must
intercept
her
then
I
could
lend
support
.
Despite
my
injury
,
I’m
not
a
bad
shot
…’

Father’s name! I snatched the paper from him. ‘Let me see!’

‘Careful!’

I scanned the words, picking out what I could. ‘Grice is asking Wentworth to meet him at the Manor. It looks like Grice and Wentworth must have been writing to each other for some time. What’s more, Grice has changed sides.’

Ralph looked up at me. ‘Good for him. Maybe he’s seen sense. He’s right though. If we don’t stop them buying more mercenaries, Parliament will have a heavy fight on their hands.’

I shook my head. ‘Be careful – I would not trust Grice. I hate him. If he can blow one way with the wind, he can blow the other. Grice is stealing my mistress’s lands, making her sign away her estate. She cannot refuse
– he put a pistol to her throat. I saw him with my own eyes.’

Ralph turned to look at me, a stunned expression on his face. He opened his mouth as if he would say something, but then he stood and walked away. Put his face in his hands.

‘Ralph,’ I called after him.

He was hugging himself as if to hold himself together.

‘Bloody war. How did we get to this? Englishman fighting Englishman? The end can’t come soon enough.’

‘What will you do?’

‘You mean about Grice? Nothing. He’s on our side.’ It was a moment before he came and sat back beside me. ‘But I’ll talk to Father about Wentworth and this Lady Prescott,’ he said. ‘Father’s not as quick as he was, and I’m the better rider, so I’m sure he can persuade Wentworth to let me go. If there could be trouble – and if as you say, Grice is not to be trusted, then one man stands much more chance of riding away.’

‘Be careful though, we don’t want them to know we opened the letter, or I’ll be in awful trouble.’

‘Do you think I’m a fool? Here, give the letter back to me and let’s seal it up again.’

I held it as though it might bite me, but Ralph melted a new blob of wax onto it and I pressed Lady Katherine’s seal into the hot wax. Ralph stared at it. ‘That’s the Fanshawe seal,’ he said.

‘Yes, the three fleurs-de-lis.’

‘Is it hers?’

‘Yes.’ The atmosphere turned heavy. I put my hand on his sleeve. ‘Have a heart, Ralph. Grice is dangerous. I fear for my mistress.’

‘I don’t care if they all rot.’

I knew that was not true, that it was just angry words, but he wasn’t ready to listen to me. I tucked the letter back inside my bodice and mounted my pony.

*

I brought the short reply from Captain Wentworth’s servant back to Grice and he was none the wiser. As I passed my mistress’s room I saw Rigg and Pitman just coming out. Pitman tucked something hurriedly into his jerkin and exchanged a warning look with Rigg.

What were they up to? There was no time to think because I had to return milady’s seal. I slipped into the library and eased open the drawer of the writing desk but just as I reached inside, a hand came onto my shoulder. I almost shot up out of my shoes and dropped the seal where it rolled to rest at my mistress’s feet.

‘What are you doing?’ Lady Katherine pulled me round.

‘Nothing,’ I said, unsure whether to address her as my mistress.

‘That’s my seal. What are you doing with it?’

I shook my head.

‘Tell me.’ She looked into my eyes. ‘Please.’

She had asked humbly. I weighed it up. We had both threatened each other enough. She hated Grice as much as I did. I decided to tell her the truth. ‘I opened one of Grice’s letters. To Captain Wentworth at the Green Man.’

‘What did it say? Show me.’ She was curious now, her anger less.

‘I can’t. I delivered it.’ I told her of Lady Prescott and the smuggled Royalist gold. ‘The gold will buy mercenaries. The men are tired, worn out with so much toil and fighting and so little progress. Ralph says both sides are desperate for more men, even if they have to pay for their
loyalty. And everyone wants an end to it.’

Lady Katherine picked up the seal and paced up and down, her brow creased as she thought. ‘So whoever gets the gold gets an advantage. If the King loses then my husband will be exiled or executed. My house will go to Grice or to Cromwell and I’ll be without a roof over my head. But if the King wins then my husband will return and I will have to endure my step-fathe
r and his beatings.’ She paused and shook her head sadly. ‘In my position, which side would you choose?’

I could not answer. A pang of compassion made me twist the corner of my apron in my hands. Lady Katherine put the seal in the drawer and closed it gently but firmly. ‘You will not touch my seal again. Do you understand?’

I pulled on a lock of hair that had escaped my cap and looked at the floor.

My mistress came towards me and touched my arm. ‘Any more news from Ralph?’ she asked me. ‘Did he mention me when you saw him?’ She was tentative, entreating.

‘He’s still angry.’

‘Not anything? Didn’t he say anything about me at all?’

I shook my head. She continued to walk up and down, up and down. Finally she stopped dead. ‘I’m going to run away and join the Diggers. I shall persuade Ralph if it’s the last thing I do. He’s got to believe I care for him. I think of him all the time. It gives me such a pain, right here.’ She pressed her hand to her chest. ‘He’s all I have. Please, Abi, you’ve got to help me talk to him.’

She used my name. My name on her lips squeezed my heart. I shook my head. ‘I can’t. I’m sorry. He’s given it up. They’ve all gone home. He’s joining my father in the army.’

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