The Cat’s Eye Shell (5 page)

‘So Old Ironsides beat the marquis?' Luka asked.

‘Aye, he and his big guns.'

Luka was immediately interested. ‘What guns?'

The duke spoke then, for the first time in some miles. ‘I heard his largest gun fired shot weighing around sixty pounds.'

‘Criminy! That is a big gun.'

‘Cromwell tried other things too. I heard tell they burnt wet straw mixed with sulphur and arsenic upwind of the house, to try and choke them all out.'

‘Did it work?'

‘The guns did, in the end. The marquis utterly refused to surrender. They say he scratched
Love Loyalty
in Latin on every single pane of glass in the house with a diamond. And it was a big house.' The duke's voice was very sad. ‘But the Roundheads broke down his walls in the end, and then ran amok. They killed most of the people inside …'

‘Including six priests!' Father Plummer said angrily.

‘… and those who were not killed were dragged out, some of them naked. There were many great men, the historian Thomas Fuller, the king's architect Inigo Jones. It was said that the marquis himself was found saying his rosary in a bread oven, but I think that was a lie.'

The priest snorted. ‘I don't believe it for a moment!'

‘The Roundheads plundered the whole house. It was a rich place, filled with artworks and silver and gold plate, and jewels, and tapestries, and fine furniture. They looted the lot, then put the place to the torch. Twenty hours it took to burn down to the ground.'

The duke's voice was bitter and angry, and Emilia wondered if he had known the marquis, and perhaps even been friends with him.

‘What happened to the marquis?' she asked.

‘He was sent to the Tower. They took his sons away to be brought up as Protestants, which
would have been the cruellest thing to a faithful Catholic like the Marquis of Winchester. He lost everything.' The priest's voice trembled.

‘They call him the Great Loyalist, though,' the duke consoled him. ‘He never lost his honour. That has to mean something.'

There was a long silence. Emilia's eyes stung with tears. She thought of the poor old broken man, locked up in the Tower, his family taken away, his wealth lost, his house burnt to cinders, the glass on which he had inscribed his defiance smashed to smithereens.

‘And the king wonders why none of the Catholics will rise for him,' Father Plummer murmured.

The duke sighed heavily.

They came to a rough track that led down into the valley below, and stumbled down it, hanging on to each other to stop from sliding. Below was a deep country lane. They made their way along it in the dark, crossing a wooden bridge and
tramping through moon-silvered fields and orchards until at last they saw lights shining out over a park.

‘There is Firle Place,' Father Plummer whispered. ‘They will be locked up tight and wary. They are known to be Catholics. Do you want to wait here while I go and knock on the door and see if they will shelter us?'

Gratefully Tom, Luka and Emilia lowered themselves to the ground, groaning at their tired, aching legs. Rollo flopped down beside Emilia, his eyes fixed hopefully on her face. He was very hungry. Zizi went roaming off into the trees and came back a few minutes later with a half-gnawed apple which she gave to Luka. He took a huge bite and passed it to Emilia, who then passed it on to Tom. In moments it was all gone.

‘What will we do if they don't let us in?' Tom said, dragging off one boot and rubbing his stockinged foot.

‘Find a haystack,' Luka said. ‘I'm guessing you've never slept on a haystack before, though, have you? You probably can't sleep without silk sheets and satin counterpanes.'

‘I've slept in lots of uncomfortable places since I've been with his lordship,' Tom replied angrily. ‘We've been on the run for days now!'

‘What are you doing with the duke?' Emilia asked, trying to change the subject. ‘I was never more surprised than when I saw you in that secret room!'

‘My father's been in contact with the duke for some time,' Tom said after a moment, sounding rather sulky. ‘They've been trying to coordinate an uprising against Parliament, but it's been very difficult. So many of those who are loyal to the king have been captured and imprisoned, or had all their land taken away so they have no money to help.'

‘So is your father one of the Sealed Knot?' Emilia asked excitedly.

‘Ssssh!' Tom hissed. ‘You shouldn't say such things aloud!'

‘Sorry,' she said. ‘But I had no idea. I mean, he's a nice old man, your dad, but not at all what I'd expect one of the Sealed Knot to be like.'

‘He is nice,' Tom said, mollified. ‘But he's getting rather elderly now, and he suffers from gout, and so many of his friends have been killed or thrown off their land. They don't do much, the Sealed Knot, but get together and talk and argue and drink toasts to the king, without ever actually making any decisions to take action. Which is why some of us younger ones wrote to the king and begged him to let us raise the rebellion for him. That's what the duke is doing here. He came to talk to us, and to the older men, to see if we could not all work together. If we are to rise for the king, it has to be coordinated properly, else we'll fail like everyone has failed before.'

He sighed.

‘So you're in the Sealed Knot too?' Emilia was most impressed.

‘We call ourselves the Action Party,' Tom said, warming up beneath her obvious admiration. ‘Not that we've managed much action yet, but we will.'

‘And so was the duke staying with you, at Whitehorse Manor? We didn't see any sign of him.'

‘He came the night you all went off in your caravans. He'd been in London, but Cromwell's spies were onto him and he had to flee. We took him in but they must've followed him, because somehow they knew he was with us and came and searched the place. We barely managed to get him away.'

‘Let me guess, you were hiding him in the best bedroom, and ordering all the best food and wine to be taken up to him,' Luka said acerbically.

‘Where else were we meant to put him?' Tom cried indignantly. ‘In the pigsty?'

‘It might've been safer.'

‘He's the Duke of Ormonde!' Tom said in a furious whisper. ‘He's the king's right-hand man. We couldn't hide him in a pigsty.'

‘Of course not.'

Tom peered at Luka suspiciously, but could not see his face in the darkness. ‘We don't have a priest-hole or anything like that at Whitehorse Manor,' he said defensively. ‘And all our servants are king's men, loyal and true.'

‘Of course,' Luka replied, and there was no mistaking the mockery in his voice. ‘Yet somehow Cromwell's spies knew where to go!'

‘Well, yes,' Tom answered, sounding unhappy. ‘I don't know how they found out. I'd been riding out to a few of my father's old cronies, taking messages for the duke, and then I went into Kingston-Upon-Thames, to talk to Gerard Winstanley, and saw the pursuivant there …'

‘Who?'

‘The thief-taker. That Coldham fellow that was at the inn in Salisbury.'

‘No, I mean, who did you go to talk to in Kingston? Was that when we saw you?'

‘Yes, that's right,' Tom replied. ‘I went to see Gerard Winstanley, but they had already seized him and thrown him in gaol. He's one of those odd Levellers. You know, the ones who think that all men should be equal. Winstanley has a lot of influence, and I thought, if I could only talk to him…'

‘I thought the Levellers fought with Parliament?'

‘They did, but they've turned against Cromwell now.'

‘Only because they don't think he's gone far enough with his reforms,' the duke said, surprising them from the darkness. They had not realised he was listening. ‘The Levellers thought Parliament would dismantle the whole of the existing social structure and remodel it to their tastes. But of
course Old Ironsides is not such a fool. So the Levellers are now trying to bring him down too.'

‘I thought that if I could just persuade them to join with us …' Tom's voice trailed away.

‘The Levellers would never join with us,' the duke said, sounding sorrowful. ‘They hate the king and all he stands for. It was a brave but foolish thing to do, young Tom. Cromwell's spies would have been watching Winstanley, as they watch everyone that disagrees with them. I very much fear you may have brought the pursuivant down upon us.'

‘I only wanted to help!' Tom cried. ‘My father and all those other old men just sit around and wring their hands and do nothing! It's been eleven years now. If we don't act soon, we'll never be able to bring the king back.' His voice rang out ardently.

‘Quietly now, young Tom,' the duke said. ‘You mustn't blame your father. You're too young to
have seen the horrors of the war. You think all you need do is raise your standard and the whole country will rise to support you. Unfortunately, we've seen this is just not true. Most people just want a quiet and peaceful life now.'

‘But how can you change things if you don't try?' Tom argued.

The duke sighed. ‘You can't, of course. And if more thought like you, well, then the king would be back on his throne, and I wouldn't be on the run, like a hare with the hounds after me.' He looked towards the house. ‘I wonder where Father Plummer is,' he murmured. ‘He's been long enough. And Nat? Where has Nat got to?'

‘I'm here, my lord,' came a soft voice. ‘I've been scouting around. These Catholics usually have a close eye kept on them. I wanted to make sure we were not walking into a trap.'

‘What would I do without you?' the duke said. ‘I'm so weary I can barely keep my eyes open, and
yet you've walked quite as far as me today, and still have the energy to go scouting.'

‘That's my job,' Nat said gruffly. ‘Besides, I like my life. I want to live to see more of it.'

‘Hear, hear,' the duke replied.

They were all silent after that, too tired and anxious to talk. Emilia fingered the charms hanging from her bracelet. She had three now. The gold coin and the silver horse were familiar and reassuring under her fingers. The last of them, the rue flower, felt strange. It troubled her with its memory of the witch of Beaulieu and her dreadful poppets, which had stunk of all things rank and poisonous. The charm of the Woods had the power of all growing things, her grandmother had told her, plants that heal and plants that kill. It seemed a dreadful thing to Emilia that Marguerita Wood was using her power in order to hurt. She hoped the rue flower she carried was not tainted with that evil.

A rustle in the bushes nearby jerked Emilia out of her reverie. She realised she had almost fallen asleep.

‘It is I, Father Plummer,' whispered the priest. ‘All is well. Lady Mary will feed and shelter us. Come along inside.'

A
ll Emilia could see of the house was a steep roof and tall chimneys against the starry sky. The curtains were all resolutely drawn, allowing only a faint gleam of light to escape.

Father Plummer led them round to a side door, which stood ajar, the room within dark. Quietly they all slipped through the door, which was firmly shut and locked behind them.

Light from the hallway slanted through the doorway, showing the silhouette of a woman standing by the window, a bunch of keys in her hand.

She sank into a deep curtsey, and then beckoned them forward, holding one finger to her lips.

As Emilia stumbled across the soft carpet, her legs aching all the way up to her hips, she received no more than an impression of a richly appointed room, with gilt-framed paintings on the wall, beautifully carved wooden furniture upholstered in brocade, and a sideboard laden with silver and crystal. Then the woman led the weary travellers into a wide, richly carpeted hallway filled with light from a tall candelabra.

The lady wore a bell-shaped skirt of a deep, bright blue that rustled loudly as she walked, and her soft brown hair was done up in an elaborate knot at the back of her head. When she turned to glance curiously at them, Emilia saw that her face was worn and tired, and her hair was turning grey at her temples. A long ornate necklace hung about her neck, with a dark jewel that flashed with sudden, unexpected blue as the light caught it. She
gave them a reassuring smile, but again held her finger to her lips, and they did their best to be quiet as they followed her into a great hall in the centre of the house.

At first glance it seemed to be full of people. Emilia blinked her tired eyes against the brightness of the candles and looked around her. Standing with his back to the huge fireplace was a tall middle-aged man in a long brown robe, who bent his head gravely. Above the fireplace was hung the most enormous pair of antlers Emilia had ever seen, spanning a good six feet in length and as thick as her waist. On either side hung ancient tapestries which, to Emilia and Luka's intense delight, showed circus scenes, with jugglers and harlequins and acrobats spinning about over the heads of leopards, camels and peacocks. Luka showed Zizi an embroidered monkey, and she leapt up and down and gibbered in delight, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

‘A monkey!' a boy cried and came forward eagerly from
a group gathered at the far end of the room. He was about sixteen, with a thin face and large dark eyes under thick brows. He was richly dressed, with lace at his wrists and velvet edging his full-skirted coat, though a catapult stuck out of his bulging pockets, and there were grass stains on his fine woollen breeches.

‘Watch out, John, it'll bite!' cried a fat woman in puce-coloured silk, with an even fatter spaniel on her lap, which at once bounced up onto his four short legs and began to bark shrilly.

Rollo lunged forward, barking in his deepest, gruffest voice. The room resounded with the noise.

‘Aunt Letitia, please control that dog!' Lady Mary ordered, while Luka and Emilia together flung their arms about Rollo's neck and held him back. ‘Do you want to alert the whole household?'

‘Oh dear, oh dear, ssshh now, Clemmy, there's a good doggie,' the fat woman said, clasping the furious spaniel to her ample bosom. ‘Come to mama now. Oh dear, oh dear, he will not be quiet! He doesn't like that big bad doggie, does he now?'

Luka wanted to protest indignantly that Rollo was
not
a bad doggie, but there was too much noise. The children of the house were laughing and shouting, Zizi was leaping up and down and gibbering, the spaniel was strangling itself in its desire to get down and fling itself at Rollo, while Rollo himself was saying just what he thought of overfed lap-dogs.

It was pandemonium.

‘Here, give him to me!' said John, seizing the spaniel by the scruff of the neck and heaving him away from the fat woman, who clapped her hands together and said, ‘Oh no, be gentle! Poor Clemmy! Oh, no! Don't be so rough!'

‘He'll be fine, Aunt Letitia, stop fussing,' the boy said impatiently and took the spaniel out of the
room, still yapping over his shoulder, its round, watery eyes almost bulging out of its head.

Aunt Letitia moaned and flung herself back into her chair, tears welling up in her own protuberant eyes. Tom grinned and said, in a low, malicious undertone to Emilia and Luka, ‘Ever noticed how much pets look like their owners?'

Emilia at once realised that he was having a gibe at Luka as much as at the old lady, but since Luka thought his monkey was perfectly beautiful he did not bridle at all, but gave a quick absentminded smile, looking about him in interest. So Emilia said, in mock affront, ‘Are you trying to tell me I look like a horse, Tom?' and had the satisfaction of seeing him flush and try to stammer a quick apology.

The Duke of Ormonde, meanwhile, was begging pardon for the noise and trouble, but Rollo just yawned widely, then sat himself down
with a thump in front of the fire and proceeded to scratch himself thoroughly.

Luka could not help grinning.

‘I am so sorry, my lord duke,' Lady Mary said. ‘I should have thought to have Clement taken out first. I did not know you had a dog in your party too, else I would've made sure he was locked up.'

‘A dog and a monkey,' one of the young women said, clapping her hands in delight. ‘Isn't she funny? Look how sweet she is in her little skirt.'

Zizi jumped up and down on Luka's shoulder, shrieking, and then made an extremely rude noise with her lips. Everyone laughed.

‘Ssssh, darling girl,' Luka said, and took Zizi into his arms, petting her. ‘Try to remember your manners.'

‘I, too, should remember mine,' Lady Mary said, smiling. ‘My lord, you are welcome here.
Please, may I introduce my aunt, Mistress Letitia Chamberlain.'

The fat woman struggled to her feet and managed a very squat curtsey, her hands fluttering about her in confusion. ‘Oh, my lord duke, it is an honour, an absolute honour, we have heard so much of you but never did we think we would have the pleasure of your presence here –'

‘And this is my cousin-in-law and our chaplain, Father George Gage,' the lady in blue continued, ruthlessly ignoring her aunt. ‘I am sure you knew my husband, Sir Thomas Gage. These are our children. I hope you will forgive them, they are not used to a monkey in the house!'

The Duke of Ormonde bowed and answered politely, and Lady Mary went on, in her quiet, confident voice, ‘Let me introduce you to them, though I do not expect you to remember them all! This is my son, Sir Thomas, who inherited the title from his father.'

‘I was so sorry to hear of your father's untimely death,' the duke said, bowing. Sir Thomas, who could not have been more than eighteen, bowed back and murmured a polite response. He seemed rather shy and awkward. Emilia thought it must be difficult to be made a baronet when you were only twelve.

Lady Mary went rapidly through the other children, who were called Hannah, Jane, Mary, Agnes and Anne, then introduced the other boy, John, as he came back into the room. He grinned at them in such a friendly way that Luka at once took a liking to him.

His mother said, with a twinkle in her eyes, ‘John, darling, the Duke and his friends must be absolutely starving. Do you think you could slip down to the kitchen and see if there's anything in the larder for them to eat? I don't want to ring the bell, as I really do think it's best if we keep the Duke's visit as quiet as possible.'

John grinned back, and said, ‘I think I can manage that, Mother. It won't be the first time I've snuck into the larder!'

He disappeared again, and the Duke of Ormonde introduced the rest of the party, and gave the Gage family a very quick explanation for what he was doing with three rather disreputable-looking children, a dog and a monkey, as well as the more usual retinue of a servant and a priest.

‘I do thank you for taking pity on us and offering us your hospitality,' the duke concluded.

Lady Mary looked troubled. ‘I do hope you will not take offence if I tell you frankly that I wish you had not knocked on our door. The Sussex militia are very punctilious and they watch us closely, and take any opportunity to raid us and make our lives unpleasant. If they should find you here …'

‘They do not know we are in this area,' the duke replied, looking very uncomfortable. ‘We
came by a secret way – there is no possibility they could have followed us, or seen us.'

‘Are you sure?' Lady Mary asked. ‘For I have managed to keep my family safe since my husband died, by doing nothing to incur the wrath of the Parliamentarians. I could not refuse you entry, I know my husband would have wished me to offer you shelter, but the danger you bring down upon us…'

‘I beg your forgiveness,' the duke said, ‘but I promise you none know we are here and I will gladly vouch for the loyalty of all in our party. Father Plummer, you know, and young Tom Whitehorse here is as trusty a lad as you could hope to meet.'

Tom glowed with pleasure.

‘Luka and Emilia here have as little desire as I do to be caught by Cromwell's men,' the duke went on, ‘and Nat has travelled with me all the way from Holland and faced more dangers than I
could tell you, all of his own accord. He could easily have stayed back at the king's court, snug as you please, eating, drinking and playing cards like all the others …'

‘Not me, my lord, you know I don't hold with gambling,' Nat said stolidly.

Lady Mary smiled. ‘Nor do I. Well, you are welcome, all of you, and we must just trust in Providence to keep us all safe.'

John came back into the room then, bearing a tray of food and drink which they fell upon gladly. There was cold roast pheasant, a veal and ham pie, some fresh bread and a jar of some pale green fruit preserve that was utterly delicious, as well as a large jug of apple cider which he heated for them with a red-hot poker from the fire.

While they ate, the duke told their story to the Gage family, to the accompaniment of much sighing, groaning and exclaiming.

‘What an adventure!' Lady Mary said.

‘To think what danger you were in!' Aunt Letitia cried, clasping her pudgy hands together. ‘It makes my heart palpitate, just thinking of it!'

‘The Lord God had his hand over you,' Father George said.

‘I am very perplexed, though, as to what we can do to help you,' Lady Mary said. ‘We are not allowed to travel freely, you know that, and can go no more than five miles from home without permission. So even though I would like to give you horses, or even my carriage, I promise I would not be helping you, particularly since tomorrow is Sunday. We observe the Lord's Day here, in keeping with the Puritans, to avoid stirring up any trouble. The local garrison suspect us of having a chapel here, you know, and watch us closely to make sure we are not worshipping in secret.'

The Duke of Ormonde nodded, a deep frown on his face. Luka and Emilia exchanged gloomy glances. The Puritans, they knew, were very strict
about the Sabbath. Puritans were not permitted to cook or clean or wash their dishes, or cut wood, or even make their beds. Once upon a time everyone had been allowed to relax and enjoy their one day of rest in the week, as long as they attended church services first, but now any kind of activity at all was forbidden on the Sabbath. You could not even shave your chin, or clip your toenails. There was no help for it. They would all have to hide out at Firle for at least another day, until the Sabbath was over, for anyone seen travelling on a Sunday would be pulled over and questioned, and quite probably arrested.

‘You will have to stay hidden all day,' Lady Mary went on. ‘Luckily most of the servants live in the village and will not come to work on Sunday, but we do not want anyone to see you on the terrace or in the garden, and wonder about you.'

‘Personally, I shall be glad of a chance to rest,' the duke replied, though his frowning look did not
lift. Emilia guessed he was anxious to be gone, and fretting at yet another delay, just like she and Luka were.

‘I wonder …' Lady Mary murmured.

‘What, Mother?' cried John.

‘It is market day in Hastings on Monday. Why do I not apply for permission to take a cartload of produce to the market? I could send Simon with a note for the colonel now. He's at Glynde, the next village along, and will still be awake. Simon can pretend his horse cast a shoe, or something to explain why he's so late. I think it will work well, Colonel Morley knows we have been hit hard by the Royalist fines.'

‘That's an excellent idea,' the duke said, smiling.

‘We have plenty of apple cider to sell, and there are some late cherries we could pick,' Lady Mary continued. ‘I had been planning to make jam with them, but we could sell them at market instead.
And people are always willing to buy our greengages, there are some ripe already, the weather has been so warm.'

‘Greengages?' Luka asked in lively curiosity. ‘I've never heard of such a fruit.'