Georgette Heyer (44 page)

  'I am obliged to you! Yet this coldness, sir –'

  'My lord,' interrupted the Colonel bluntly. 'I will be open with you, and tell you plainly that we have heard strange news here in the south, that your lordship was too warmly engaged with Argyll's faction in Scotland.'

  Wilmot's eyes fell before the accusing stare that never wavered from his face. His beautiful, disdainful mouth quivered; he replied with a touch of hauteur: 'If you have heard that I was ever engaged with Argyll's faction to the prejudice of his Majesty's affairs, rumour has most grossly lied, sir! However, I do not mean to burden your ears with an account of our policies in Scotland. I have not heard that his Majesty is dissatisfied with my part in these.'

  The Colonel responded only with a little ungainly bow. Wilmot glanced at him frowningly, and said, trying not to betray his discomfiture: 'Well, Colonel, I see that you are not minded to assist me. But since I am commanded to be free with you, I will tell you what I hope may make you more eager to engage upon the business, which is that your services are required not for myself, but for the King.'

  He had the satisfaction of knowing that his words had shocked the Colonel out of his disapproving stolidity. The ruddy, rather pendulous cheeks blenched, and an expression of incredulity started to the heavy eyes. The Colonel repeated in an altered voice: 'The King?'

  'Yes, sir, none other. He is at this present at Trent, in the house of Colonel Wyndham, with whom I think you are acquainted, and knows not how to dispose of himself. If you can provide for his security, he will commit himself to you, knowing you to be a gentleman of proved loyalty.'

  'Ay, I hope I am so indeed, but alack, this is a fearful business to engage upon!' said Phelips, aghast. 'My fortune, my life, the fate of my whole family is the forfeit! I must consider well, my lord! Give me a moment, I beg of you! This is a promise not to be lightly given!'

  'Not lightly, but readily, I hope!' Wilmot said sharply. 'I perceive that I have not made myself plain to you. His Majesty is in a situation of the direst neces sity. By God's grace, he has so far escaped the fury of his enemies, but if those whom he deems his friends fail him in his extremity he must perish as his father did before him!'

  'God forbid!' exclaimed Phelips, with a shudder. 'If this heavy burden is laid upon my shoulders, do not doubt that I will bear it! Yet I should do less than my duty if I did not warn you most earnestly, my lord, that I consider the risk very great, as things now stand. If the King should miscarry in my hands, the sacrifice of my own life must bear testimony to my truth and sincerity. I see clearly that I have no choice but to do my possible for his Majesty. But I think your lordship does not appreciate the difficulties which must beset any one wishful of assisting the King.'

  'I not appreciate them?' Wilmot said, with a blank look. 'My good sir, the truth is that you are far from appreciating the difficulties which have been overcome throughout these painful weeks!'

  This remark led Phelips into making a more partic ular enquiry into the circumstances of the King's escape, and by the time Wilmot had favoured him with a brief relation of Charles's adventures, John Coventry had come back into the parlour, and was anxious to discover whether my lord had reached a good under standing with the Colonel.

  Over a bottle of wine, various plans were made and rejected, it being finally agreed that the Colonel should ride to Southampton upon the following day to seek out a merchant of his acquaintance, who, he believed, might be able to hire a barque to carry the King to France. It was plain however, that he thought the chances of success slim. John Coventry, after taking counsel with my lord, decided to wait next day upon Dr Henchman, and to open the whole matter to him.

  Henry Peters took his leave of Wilmot early the following morning, and rode back to Trent. He found the King in the best of spirits, and was given the Royal hand to kiss when he had related all that had passed at Salisbury.

  'I thank you, I thank you: I think no King of England was ever so well served as I am,' said Charles, adding with a gleam of merriment: 'And I am sure none was ever so plaguey a burden to his poor subjects!'

If any apprehension possessed Colonel Wyndham's anxious mind that the King would be cast-down by the failure of his plans, this was soon banished. 'Indeed, I am very glad to find myself back at Trent!' Charles told Lady Wyndham.

  'Ah, dear sir, I would I could say that I am glad to welcome you back,' she replied. 'But this mischance is a sad blow, and my mind much misgives me.'

  'Oh, don't waste a thought on it!' he said. 'I am sure that I shall contrive to escape from my enemies soon or late. Meanwhile, I think myself very safe in this house, besides being exceedingly well-entertained.'

  Neither Lady Wyndham nor her daughter-in-law could share this feeling of certainty, but they concealed their inward qualms, and applied themselves to the task of keeping the King's presence in the house a secret, and the King himself amused.

  The return of Peters from Salisbury, with the news of Lord Wilmot's activities, made them hopeful of seeing the King soon set sail for France, but for two days nothing more was heard, a circumstance which made Colonel Wyndham feel uneasy enough to beg the King to permit him to take into their con fidence a neighbour of his, one Captain Littleton, who, he believed, had interest with sea-faring men. The King seemed to be more interested in a new fashion of cooking eggs which he said that he had discovered, but he gave a care less permission, with the result that Captain Littleton immediately set off for Hampshire, to try certain sea ports there.

  The rumour of the King's having been at Charmouth spread swiftly over the county. Captain Macey, losing the trail at Dorchester, cast about in all directions to pick it up again, scouring the countryside for some miles north of the coast, and ransacking several known Royalists' houses. The first intelli gence of this to reach Trent was brought by the Colonel's uncle, Sir Hugh Wyndham, who lived at Pilsdon, seven miles inland from Charmouth. He arrived at Trent, two days after the King's return, snorting with rage, and burning to recount his wrongs. The thought of the indignities to which he had been exposed overcame him to such a degree that it was not until he had drunk two glasses of burnt claret that he became calm enough to tell his woes to his nephew with any coherence. His house had been invaded by rebel soldiers, who had seized him, his lady, his daughters, and all his household, and had set a guard over them in the hall while they searched the house from loft to buttery. Not a chest, not a cupboard, not a trunk (he said) but had been ransacked; and, finally, discovering nothing, the rebels had taken a more particular view of their prisoners, had singled out the loveliest damsel in the bevy confronting them, and had declared that she was the King, disguised in female apparel.

  At this point, Sir Hugh had recourse to the claret. 'The King!' he ejaculated. 'My daughter! I ask ye, Frank, why? Why? Tell me that!'

  The Colonel replied with as good a countenance as he could: 'Nay, how should I know? It is the veriest nonsense!'

  'Nonsense? Ay! For, from all I've heard, he is a big fellow, above two yards high, and ill-favoured to boot! But those rogues – those damned rascals, I say! – took my poor girl, and stripped her! Nothing else would satisfy them she was not the King! God's blood, if I have not their heads for it! It was only when they discovered their mistake with their own lewd eyes that they desisted from offering any further violence to my family! But look 'ee, Frank, it's in my mind you know somewhat to the purpose, and I'll thank ye to tell me this instant what's in the wind!'

  The Colonel refilled his glass. 'Nay, uncle, indeed, I know nothing. It's some silly notion the rebels have taken into their heads, doubtless, and no rhyme or reason to it.'

  Sir Hugh fixed him with an accusing stare: 'Ha, is it, indeed? Then tell me this! – why did William Ellesdon come to Pilsdon two days since, demanding of me, where was the King?'

  The Colonel took a moment or two to reply to this, being somewhat aghast at Ellesdon's imprudence. He raised his eyes presently to Sir Hugh's plethoric face, and said: 'I cannot tell you that, sir, and do most earnestly entreat you to forget that Ellesdon ever came to your house.'

  Sir Hugh's eyes started at him. 'By God, so you're mixed up in it indeed! You're a fool, Frank, d'ye hear me? You'll lose your head in the business, as sure as check! Don't tell me what you're about! I don't want to know! I'll have naught to do with it! And I'll thank 'ee not to drag me into your coils, for I'll none of 'em no, nor for twenty kings!'

  The Colonel hastened to reassure him, but it was plain that the poor man had taken fright. He could not be persuaded to dine at Trent House, but called for his horse within a very short time, and rode away very much as though he expected to be caught in the meshes of some plot if he remained another instant under his nephew's roof.

  When the story of the ransacking of Pilsdon was recounted to the King, he tried to preserve a decorous demeanour, for Lady Wyndham and her daughter in-law were both in the room, but the thought of a young and beautiful damsel's being unable to convince the rebel soldiers that she was not himself in disguise proved to be too much for his gravity. He bit his lip, but his shoulders shook; and when he unwisely caught the Colonel's eye, he gave one gasp, and broke into a roar of laughter.

  Mrs Anne Wyndham blushed, and turned her face away, murmuring: 'Oh, how could even rebels make such a gross and rude mistake? How can you laugh, sir?'

  He begged her pardon, but with such an impenitent gleam in his eye that she was a little shocked. The Colonel, although he thought the Pilsdon episode comical, was perturbed by it, and made it his business to see that the secret hiding-place in the house was prepared for the reception of the King at a moment's notice. No news reaching Trent of Captain Macey's activities, Mrs Wyndham went to the neighbouring town of Sherborne one day, ostensibly to do some marketing; and returned presently with a great many rumours to relate, and the alarming tidings that a troop of horse had entered the town, and was quartered there.

  The only person to remain unmoved by this infor mation was the King himself, who refused to believe that the troopers had come to Sherborne to search for him, but supposed instead that they were upon their way to the coast. As nothing more was heard of the troop, the Wyndhams were at last persuaded that he was right, and, much to his relief, relinquished a little of their anxious care.

  'Look you, Frank, if you mean to wear that frown upon your face I must believe you do not relish having me for your guest,' said Charles in his lazy, provocative way.

  The Colonel's thin cheeks flushed, but he answered only by a smile and a shake of his head. His mother laid a hand on the slim brown one resting on the arm of her chair. 'My liege, do you know that there is a price upon your head?' she asked.

  'Why, yes, madam, but I think none will claim it.'

  'But you cannot blame us for our anxiety, sir.' She smiled at him, for he had lifted her hand to his lips. 'Yes, yes, you may coax as you please, my dear, but you are too careless. I would we might hear that my lord has made safe arrangements to carry you overseas.'

  But it was not until the 28th September, five days after the King's return to Trent, that a message came from my Lord Wilmot, at Salisbury. The day was a Sunday, and evening was drawing on, when a stout, heavy-jowled man, dressed in grey breeches and a weather-stained leather coat, rode up to the manor house and desired speech with Colonel Wyndham. He was led into the winter-parlour, and upon the Colonel's joining him there presently, he got up from a chair by the window, saying bluntly: 'Good day to ye! I should tell you I am Colonel Phelips: Colonel
Edward
Phelips, brother to Robert Phelips, whom ye know of.'

  Wyndham started forward with his hand held out. 'You are very welcome, sir! You have come upon – a certain matter?'

  'Ay,' responded Phelips. 'That's it. It's upon my broth er's business I've come, or, to put it more properly, upon the King's business.' He added gruffly: 'The which I am right glad to do, though it is a fearful business, and very perilous. But I don't regard that.'

  'Nor he,' said the Colonel, with a wry smile. 'I will take you to him, for I know well he will desire to hear your message himself.'

  'Well,' said Phelips, giving a jerk to his leather coat, 'I should like to see his Majesty, for I have never done so; but I am no courtier, look ye, but a plain soldier, and if it's knee-bendings, and pretty speeches he's accustomed to, I shall maybe offend him, for I am not versed in such, and that is the truth.'

  'You need not fear to offend him. He is very easy, and uses little ceremony,' replied Wyndham.

  Colonel Phelips, whose stolid countenance admi rably con cealed some inward trepidation, followed him upstairs, straightening his lawn collar on the way, and trying to rub a mud-stain from the sleeve of his jacket. He hoped that he would acquit himself creditably, but set not much store by his host's reassuring words. It was not until he found himself looking up at a tall, ugly young man in a much plainer suit of clothes than his own, who held out a hand to him and smiled in the friendliest fashion, that his fears were banished. He went down heavily on to one knee to kiss the King's hand, saying awkwardly: 'Your Majesty!'