Chapter 31
Was it possible for Charvaley to remain so completely unchanged?
It had only been three months since she had left, hurrying to reach London, as James had sent news that his captors had indicated that he would die.
She remembered every moment of that hellish journey with two miserable, fretful children.
She had left with no thought except for James and no expectation that she would not be returning.
Then it had been late summer; now the chill winds of autumn lifted the edges of her cloak as they rode under the gatehouse into the well-maintained courtyard, surrounded on three sides by the residence and on the fourth by a high wall that led out into the gardens that had been James’s pride and joy.
Agnes did not recognise the servant who helped her dismount from the black gelding and she looked at him curiously. The Charvaley steward had been a cheerful, round-faced man, not this dour, unsmiling minion.
‘Where’s Gibbs?’ she asked Turner.
Turner shrugged. ‘The Colonel preferred to have people he knew around him and brought his own people from Broughton.’
Agnes stared at him, thinking of the elderly but loyal Charvaley staff who had served the family. A small, nagging doubt insinuated itself into her mind. She had imagined returning to joyful acclaim from the staff and servants. Not this cold reception from people she did not know.
What had become of them? Had Tobias cast them out to make their own way in advance of winter?
‘He has replaced them all?’ she asked.
‘Not all,’ Turner replied.
Leah Turner waited at the massive oak door, dressed in a gown of a sombre russet colour with plain collar and cuffs unrelieved by lace or embroidery, her hands clasped in front of her, the keys of the house hanging from a heavy ring at her waist. At the sight of Agnes, the woman’s lips compressed with disapproval to be nothing more than a slit in her face.
‘What is she doing here?’ she demanded of her brother. ‘The Colonel gave orders … ’
Turner held up his hand. ‘Peace, Leah. She is here to await the return of the Colonel.’
‘You could have sent me word to expect a visitor,’ Leah complained.
‘I do not intend to inconvenience you, Mistress Turner. I have come to see Colonel Ashby — and the children,’ Agnes said, collecting up the too-long skirts of Nell Longley’s riding gown.
‘You are not welcome here,’ Leah Turner said.
‘Sister,’ Septimus Turner spoke. ‘Mistress Fletcher has good reason to see the Colonel and we must accommodate her until he returns. Please extend her the courtesy of a guest.’
Inwardly Agnes seethed. A guest? In her own home?
She picked up her skirts and mounted the steps but Leah Turner did not move, remaining an immovable obstacle to the entrance.
‘It will not be possible to see the children,’ Leah Turner said. ‘Not while the Colonel is in London. Our orders are quite explicit on that subject.’
Agnes studied the woman through narrowed eyes. She had to be careful which battles she picked, and however much it grieved her to be so close to the children, for the time being, this might be one she would have to concede.
‘It has been a long, tiring journey,’ she said. ‘Be so good as to conduct me to my room, Mistress Turner.’
Leah’s mouth twitched. ‘As we were not expecting guests, there is no bed made up, but if you care to follow me. You … ’ she addressed Daniel, ‘see to the horses.’
The woman turned and proceeded into the house.
‘I know the way to my bedchamber,’ Agnes said.
She received no response, and her heart sank as the woman turned right instead of left at the top of the stairs, leading her toward the old part of the castle, to a badly lit, cold room with heavy stone walls, only partly relieved by a couple of heavy tapestries and a small half tester bed.
No fire burned in the fireplace and the room smelled musty and damp. Protest would be pointless. It was not unreasonable to have expected her not to be returning to Charvaley. No doubt the pleasant, airy chamber that had been hers for the past eight years had been reassigned.
Leah Turner pointed at the wooden chest at the end of the bed.
‘That is yours, I believe. Your belongings were set aside should you send for them,’ she said. ‘I will have the bed made up and a fire lit.’
Agnes removed her hat and gloves, setting them on the chest.
‘Mistress Turner — Leah — I would like to see the children.’ She repeated the request in a soft, placatory tone. A woman appealing to a woman.
Leah’s face betrayed no emotion. ‘I will send food and drink for you and water to refresh yourself. Good day, Mistress Fletcher.’
Agnes pulled at the strings of her cloak as she looked around the austere room. What had she expected? To be welcomed back with open arms?
She stared at the heavy iron-studded door. Leah Turner could rot in hell — she would see the children.
She tried the latch and to her surprise, it opened but leaning against the wall outside was one of Turner’s soldiers. He straightened on seeing her.
‘Who are you?’ she demanded.
The man whipped off his hat and shuffled his feet. ‘Trooper Brown, ma’am.’
‘Am I under armed guard?’ she enquired.
The man frowned and scratched his chin. ‘My orders are to see you get a good rest,’ he said, ‘And to take you to Mistress Turner or the Captain when they send for you.’
‘Am I not permitted the opportunity to stretch my legs?’
‘Not in my orders, ma’am,’ the man said.
Her heart sank. She’d not come home, she had walked into virtual, if not actual, imprisonment, subject to the whims of the Colonel or Captain Turner, and stood little chance of either seeing the children or investigating the hiding place for the gold while she remained trapped in this room.
She wondered how on Earth she would even get a message to Daniel.
Agnes retired back into the chamber and stood for a long moment looking at the heavy chest, the only item of furniture she had brought from her childhood home.
She knelt beside it, running her hands over the smooth wood, now black with age.
With her finger, she traced the familiar figures of David and Goliath on the lid.
No need to look in her belongings for the key. The old lock had been prised open.
With a heavy sigh, she opened the lid and found her possessions had been thrown in with no order or respect.
The only thing she treasured, a Bible box that had belonged to her father, sat at the top of the pile.
She lifted it out, noting with distress that, like the chest, the lock had been prised open.
Had they been looking for something that may have given them the clue to the gold, she wondered?
Mercifully, it looked as if everything within the box remained intact, albeit bearing the evidence of having been disturbed.
Letters from her father and brother, her father’s Bible, and the sorts of trinkets and mementos a young girl collects in her lifetime, ribbons and broken bits of jewellery of no value.
She lifted them out one by one, a sense of violation washing over her.
These were her special, private things, and the thought of Ashby or Turner or one of his rough soldiers handling them made her feel quite ill.
She carefully repacked the box, adding The Faerie Queen to the contents, and set it on the small table, one of the few pieces of furniture in the room.
She sank onto the chair beside the table and looked around the grim room.
Perhaps it had been a terrible mistake coming here.
Even knowing Daniel was also within the castle walls, and Kit and Jonathan not far away, she felt very alone and very afraid, not so much for herself but the children.
She laid her head on her arms, sinking into a miasma of misery.
A tentative knock at the door brought her back to the present, and hastily wiping any tell-tale tears from her eyes, she rose to her feet.
At her bidding, a maid entered the room carrying a tray.
The scent of still warm, freshly baked bread rose from beneath the cloth and Agnes’s stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten in a very long time.
‘Welcome home, Mistress Fletcher.’
‘Sarah!’ The sight of Sarah Truscott’s broad, smiling face cheered her. It was all she could do not to throw her arms around the girl.
‘It’s so good to see a familiar face. I thought the Colonel had replaced all the staff,’ she said, watching as Sarah set the tray down on the table.
Sarah scowled. ‘Most of ‘em. Leastways those that had any position. The likes of me he don’t care about.’
‘I’m pleased to see you. How is Old Peg?’
‘Auntie is not as strong as she should be,’ Sarah frowned. The girl was Peg’s great-niece, her only living relative. ‘But she’ll be cheered to know you are back where you belong.’
‘I am only visiting, Sarah,’
Sarah glanced at the door. ‘Why’ve they set a man on t’ door?’
‘To make sure I don’t go wandering off in search of the children.’ Agnes laid a hand on the girl’s arm and said in a lowered voice, ‘Tell me, Sarah, are they well?’
A shadow crossed the girl’s face and her mouth turned down at the corners. ‘By all reports, but no one sees ‘em outside of Mistress Turner and Hannah the nursery maid.’
Agnes frowned. ‘They never leave the nursery?’
‘Not since they’ve been back from London, but the weather’s been foul and there’s always the chance of a small one catching a chill. Don’t fret yourself, Mistress Fletcher. They’ll be fine, just you see.’
Agnes regarded the girl’s open, friendly face. Just because she was the great-niece of the woman she had sent Daniel and the others to did not mean she was an ally.
‘I’m sure you’ll get to see ‘em in time, Mistress Fletcher. Now you eat up, while I make up the bed,’ Sarah said. ‘If you don’t mind me sayin’, you look a mite peaky. I’ll get that lazy sod outside to see to the fire.’
A grumbling Trooper Brown soon had a fire burning on the hearth while the girl briskly dressed the bed. Agnes ate the more-than-adequate repast of bread, jam, and cheese washed down with a familiar small ale. At least some things hadn’t changed.
Sarah regarded the empty platters. ‘You must’ve been hungry.’
‘Where’s my manservant, Lucas?’ Agnes enquired, conscious that Brown could probably hear every word.
A slight colour stained Sarah’s cheeks. ‘He’s your manservant, is he?
Last I saw he was in the kitchen being fed up by the kitchen hand.
She seemed to think he needed feeding up, to judge by the food on his plate.
I must say, he’s got all the girls atwitter and he’s barely had time to take off his boots. ’
Agnes forced a smile. ‘He’s trouble, that one,’ she said. ‘But I could hardly ride through England alone and he seemed a good, strong lad.’
‘Aye, he’s that, right enough,’ Sarah agreed, rather too readily, Agnes thought. ‘I’ll leave ye now. If ye need anything, get ‘im out there to earn his bed and board,’ Sarah jerked her head at the door behind which Trooper Brown had retired.
‘Can you tell Lucas to come and fetch my boots? They need cleaning.’
Sarah held out her hand. ‘I’ll take ‘em for ye.’
Agnes shook her head. ‘Thank you, but I need to speak sternly with Lucas. I can’t have him flirting with every maidservant in the castle.’
Sarah closed the door behind her, and Agnes caught a glimpse of Trooper Brown picking his teeth.
She could do nothing while he stood by the door with his orders.
Subject to the whims of Leah Turner and her brother, Agnes lay down on the bed.
Whatever restrictions she had to endure, she would do so for the children.
She would be good and biddable to whatever Tobias and the hateful Leah wanted.
Her fingers tightened on the chain of her locket.
She would do whatever it took just to be with the children again.