The Passage (34 page)

I smiled at Hugo as we slipped into Cranleigh church at dusk on September 1st.  I was still trying to get used to his new appearance.  Underneath, it was the same old Hugo, but the man who smiled back at me looked completely different.  Hugo’s hair was now a dark blond, as was his moustache and short beard.  I’d picked the lightest shade of blond I could find, but when applied to his own naturally black hair, the effect wasn’t as drastic as I expected.  The light blue lenses did their job, and Hugo’s gaze was now more of a cornflower blue, the vibrant color accentuated by his dark eyebrows and lashes.  He still wore his jeans and a T-shirt, but would change back into the clothes he fled in once we were down in the crypt.  Thankfully, the clothes had been plain, not the ostentatious outfits that a nobleman might wear at Court, so the disguise should work.  My own shift, stockings, dress, and all its parts, and shoes were also in the bag.  I also had an embroidered little satchel that I’d picked up at a stall in Portobello Road which held my prenatal vitamins in a leather pouch and a dozen pills of an antibiotic I had left from my previous bout of sinus infection. 

I’d also brought a key to the safety deposit box where I’d stored all my valuables in a bank in London.  If ever I needed to come back, I would be able to access them.  I’d asked Deborah to keep an eye on my flat and help the tenant should any problems arise, telling her that I was leaving the country for a while to travel the world.  She was skeptical of my sketchy explanation, but promised to look after things in my absence.  Deborah was convinced that I’d met some man during my recent absence and was running off with him to live a life of hedonistic pleasure, possibly in America.  I let her believe what she would, since I couldn’t very well tell her the truth.  Lawrence Spellman had been less understanding, but I gave him two weeks’ notice and promised that should I ever want my job back I wouldn’t expect any more favors from him.  It felt strangely heart-wrenching to walk down the corridor toward the lift for the last time, knowing that I had now severed my ties to everything and everyone in my modern life.  I’d even written a brief email to Evan, telling him that I was moving on and wishing him luck with his silk application, the result of which was due to come through any day now.  I was sure he’d get it and call me to boast when he did, but I wouldn’t be there to take the call or read the email.  I would be in seventeenth-century France, a place where no communication could ever reach me.

The candles in the church were lit, casting shifting shadows onto the nave and the Jubilee window, its colors now darker and richer due to the gathering darkness outside.  Hugo and I took a seat in the last pew and waited for Evensong to end.  There weren’t many people and, of course, Max and his mother were not among those attending.  The service finally ended, and Reverend Lambert walked out of the church without noticing us and took his place by the door to bid goodnight to his few parishioners.  I heard his deep voice outside, asking after someone’s mother and her failing health.

As soon as the last person, who was an elderly woman with a stout walking stick, shuffled toward the door, Hugo and I descended into the crypt.  We changed in silence, stowed our modern clothes behind the farthest sarcophagus, where they were unlikely to be found, and pushed the center of the flower.  The heavy door slid open, revealing the dark passage beyond.  Hugo took my hand, and we ran up the steps, the door closing behind us with a finality that left a jagged mark on my heart.  This time I wasn’t planning on coming back.  This was it.

I could hear Hugo’s sigh of relief as he gazed upon the church of his own time.  It was also lit with candles, but the building seemed much darker, the atmosphere close for lack of windows and proper ventilation.  Evensong was finished, the Reverend Snow still outside, talking to someone in the church porch whose comments we couldn’t quite make out.  We slipped quietly from the church into the graveyard, nearly invisible in the purple smudges of dusk, which settled between the gravestones and beneath the trees whose shaggy heads nodded in sympathy to those who’d died.  Hugo’s gaze was directed toward his home which sat proudly atop a hill, feeble light just visible in some of the windows.  I could feel his longing and his excitement at being back, but he held himself in check, waiting for Reverend Snow to retreat back into the church before we could slip through the gate and be on our way.  My heart was pounding with excitement and fear, but I forced myself to calm down by breathing the fresh country air of the seventeenth century, unpolluted with the gas fumes of the nearby motorway.   

We walked briskly toward Everly Manor, our hearts beating in unison as we finally approached the gate.  All seemed normal and quiet, the house settling into peaceful slumber as night approached and everyone prepared for bed.  The dogs began to yelp, but quickly quieted, recognizing their master in the stranger who approached and held out his fist for them to sniff.  Hugo stepped into the stable as I went to the door, my heart in my mouth as I banged the heavy knocker.  We’d decided that it was safer for the servants not to see Hugo at all, so I asked a startled Liza if I might have a word with Jane.  Liza threw me a filthy look; no doubt blaming me for the disappearance of her master, but invited me to wait inside and went to summon Jane. 

I couldn’t help noticing that she looked radiant, her cheeks blooming with good health and her eyes sparkling in a way I hadn’t noticed before.  Perhaps Liza was being courted by someone whose attentions she welcomed, I speculated as I waited for Jane.  I’d never liked the girl, but I was happy for her if that were the case.  Everyone deserved a chance at happiness, especially a servant who wouldn’t get many opportunities to escape the bounds of domestic servitude before the bloom wore off, and she became one of those family retainers who worked in the house for decades, completely devoid of any personal ties of her own. 

“Dear God, Neve,” Jane exclaimed as she came rushing into the foyer.  “I thought you were dead.  What’s happened to my brother?” she cried.  “We’ve had no word since the soldiers came to arrest him in May.  They came here, demanding to know where he’d gone, but I couldn’t tell them. They said he simply vanished from the church, like a spirit.  Captain Humphries asked Reverend Snow to pass a message to Hugo after you’d gone into the church, and the reverend came back saying that you were nowhere inside.  The soldiers went in and searched every inch of the place, but there was no trace of either of you.  They eventually left, but several men were posted in the village, in the event that Hugo returned; ready to take him into custody.  They are still there.  But, where is Hugo?”

“Jane, Hugo is in the stables, and he looks somewhat different than usual.  We were in hiding for a while, but Hugo deems it safe to make our way to France now.  We’ll just need a purse full of coin, two horses, his signet ring and sword, and change of clothing.  Nothing ostentatious; just the simplest things you can find.  Hugo will write to you once we’ve settled.”

“But where have you been all this time?” Jane asked as she gaped at me.  “Monmouth has been executed, God rest his soul,” she intoned, crossing herself automatically.

“We were in London.  Jane, please, time is of the essence.  We’d like to be in Portsmouth by noon tomorrow.  I will wait for you in the stables since I don’t want anyone else to see me.  They might betray us to the soldiers.”

“Of course, give me a few moments.  I will meet you there.”

I found Hugo sitting on a bale of hay in the stables.  The horses were restless, shifting in their stalls and sniffing at the air.  I sat down next to Hugo and rested my head on his shoulder.  I knew he was anxious to see his sister, whom he thought he’d lost forever, but I just wanted to get away as quickly as possible and put as much distance between us and Everly Manor as we could before we had to stop for the night.  But, I was glad that at least now Jane could be at peace, knowing that Hugo was alive and well.  She’d assumed the worst, as anyone in her position would have, and with the death of Monmouth, her fears were justified.

Jane sidled into the stable carrying a worn leather satchel and Hugo’s sheathed sword beneath her arm.  I heard her sharp intake of breath as she saw Hugo, a look of naked disbelief on her face as she drew closer and gaped at the stranger before her. 

“Janey, it’s me,” Hugo said gently, giving her time to get accustomed to his appearance.  “It’s really me.”

“But how?” she mused, touching Hugo’s blond hair and looking into his now much lighter eyes.  “What kind of magic is this?” she asked, her eyes slanted and peering at me in the dim light of the lantern.  “You
are
a witch, aren’t you?”

“Jane, Neve is not a witch.  She saved my life; you might do well to remember that.  And now she’s saving my life once again by disguising me.  I will write as soon as we get to France,” Hugo promised.  “Take care of yourself and look after Clarence.”

“Will you be married in France?” Jane asked carefully, unsure of how things stood.

“As soon as possible,” Hugo assured her, “with plenty of time to spare before the child arrives.”

“Oh Hugo, is it really true?”  Jane spun around and took in my still-flat stomach.  I couldn’t tell if she was pleased or dismayed. 

“It is.  Now, we must be away.  Jane, please don’t tell anyone I was here, not even Clarence, and especially not Jem.  How is he?” Hugo asked wistfully.

“A nuisance as usual,” Jane replied coolly.  I couldn’t help wondering what life had been like for poor Jem since Hugo disappeared.  Jane would have no use for a page, but she’d know that Hugo wanted the boy looked after.

“Jane, please see to Jem for me.  I will come back, and I expect to find him waiting for me,” Hugo instructed, seeing his sister’s skeptical gaze.  “You heard me.”

“Yes, of course.  As you say,” Jane muttered.  “What should I say about the missing horses?”

  “Just make something up,” Hugo advised as he slid the sword securely beneath the harness of the horse he’d already saddled.  It wouldn’t do for a simple merchant to be seen carrying such a fine sword.  Jane handed him a fat purse, his ring, and the satchel.  

“I will pray that you find a ship to carry you to France quickly and be away from danger.  Godspeed.”

Hugo embraced his sister and kissed her on both cheeks.  “Thank you, Janey.  Everything will be well.”

“Yes,” Jane replied.  “Now that I know you are living, everything will be well.  Take care of him, Neve.”

“You know I will.”

Hugo led the horses out of the stables and helped me mount then vaulted into the saddle himself.  We’d be riding until about midnight, then stop over somewhere for a few hours’ rest and continue first thing in the morning once it was safe to be on the road again.  Of course, the traffic toward Portsmouth would slow us down, but it would also be beneficial in helping us lose ourselves among other travelers and blend in with the crowd.  We waved to Jane and set off through the gates. 

Jane walked back into the house and bolted the door behind her.  The smile of farewell turned into a scowl of discontent as Jane considered the implications of Hugo’s miraculous survival and the news of his impending marriage and child.  She’d grieved her brother, more than she ever grieved her husband, but she’d made peace with his passing and had come to accept that her son, who was now thirteen, was Lord Everly and the heir to both the Hiddleston and Everly estates.  Since Hugo was never formally charged or tried, the title and estate were secure, something that Jane had been very grateful for. 

Of course she was overjoyed that Hugo was alive, she told herself as she climbed the stairs, but Neve’s pregnancy changed everything.  She’d encouraged Hugo to marry over the years, knowing full well that he never would.  He’d been so besotted with that brainless trollop that no other woman could ever take her place in his affections.  Seeing him with Neve changed all that, but Jane hadn’t been particularly worried.  Hugo had his share of mistresses over the years, but none of them ever captured his heart.  He was a man after all, and he had some basic needs which he needed seen to.  Nothing wrong with that, and having a mistress was so much more practical than lying with whores. 

Neve was different, however.  Hugo was in love, but Jane assured herself that it would burn out in time.  The woman had no money and no family, and she was well past her prime; so a marriage was about as likely as a unicorn prancing into the yard, especially with the shadow of Catherine still hovering over the proceedings.  And, with Hugo’s disappearance, Jane’s worries dissipated like morning dew on summer grass.  Now the situation had changed once again, and the only thing that could stop Clarence from losing his inheritance, was either Neve miscarrying or giving birth to a stillborn, which was not entirely unlikely.  God was good, and he rewarded his faithful servants, as Jane had been.  Jane genuflected and put the thought of the unwelcome child from her mind.  Hugo said that all would be well, perhaps it would, but not in the way he thought.

Jane sighed and rang the bell for Liza.  She would have a cup of wine before she retired since she was too overwrought to fall asleep.  Jane removed the pins from her hair and shook it loose over her shoulders, surprised to see Harriet instead of Liza hovering in the doorway.  The girl had become even more insolent than she’d always been, particularly since that captain began courting her.  Liza thought Jane didn’t know, as if such a thing were possible.  Jane snorted with contempt.  Liza’s lover would be off to London sooner or later, and she’d be lucky if he didn’t leave her full in the belly. 
She’d dismiss her on the spot, the little strumpet,
Jane thought savagely as she turned to face Harriet.