Andrew Swanston - The King's Return

‘Joseph will be furious when he finds out.’

‘Indeed he will. But if we find Madeleine alive he will forgive us.’

Charles agreed. ‘Mottershead’s the man we need. We’ll go to his house first thing in the morning.’

‘I know where he lives. Why not now?’ asked Thomas.

‘It’s getting dark. He won’t be able to do anything until tomorrow.’

‘I know, but I can’t sit here and do nothing.’

‘Very well, I’ll come with you. Mary will stay here in case there is any more news.’

Mary was far from persuaded. ‘Charles, why can’t you leave it to Joseph?’

‘Thomas has explained that, my dear. This is a job for a small platoon, not a regiment.’

‘And what shall I tell Joseph if he calls again?’

‘Tell him Thomas is studying the message and that we’ve gone out for refreshment. We’ll be back by midnight.’ Charles’s voice had taken on a different tone in the expectation of action. Thomas half expected him to announce that he would bring his swords. ‘Come on, Thomas, no time to lose. We’ll find a carriage.’

Josiah Mottershead lived in a tiny house near the north end of the bridge. Their coach took them along Fleet Street and through Blackfriars. Near the bridge, Thomas told the coachman to stop and to wait for them.

They walked down Swan Lane to where it was joined by a nameless alley, leading nowhere and with just a few rough dwellings on either side. It was a mean place, dark and dank, and reeking of the muck that was thrown every day into the river. They stopped at the last door before the alley petered out into a patch of ground used for dumping waste. Thomas reached for his lavender handkerchief.

‘Here we are,’ said Charles. ‘Let’s hope he’s at home.’

Josiah opened the door to Charles’s knock. He looked at them in astonishment. ‘Good gracious, sirs, what are you doing down ’ere at night?’

‘Let us in, Josiah, and you shall soon know,’ replied Thomas.

Josiah waved them in and locked the door with a key and a heavy chain. ‘Can’t be too careful around ’ere. Come in, gentlemen, and find a seat.’

They found a plain wooden chair each and sat at Josiah’s table. The room must have served for everything except sleeping and cooking. There was no other furniture and no decoration except a makeshift curtain at the window. Thomas could see through a low door to the kitchen, where he guessed Josiah also slept. At least it would be warmer there. There were no other rooms.

‘Pardon me, gentlemen, Mottershead’s forgetting ’is manners. Would you care for a glass of something?’

They would certainly care for a glass, or even two, of something, but neither knew what might be available and did not want to embarrass the little man. ‘Are you having a drink, Josiah?’ asked Thomas.

‘To be sure, sir. Daresay I’ll need it by the look of you. I’ll open a bottle of German. Got a dozen as payment for a job I did. Been looking for a chance to drink it.’

‘Excellent,’ said Charles quickly, ‘in that case we’ll join you. No point in going thirsty.’

Josiah disappeared into the kitchen and came back with two bottles and three glasses. They ignored the state of the glasses, which showed signs of having recently held some other liquid, and took a sip. The wine was excellent.

‘Fine wine, Josiah,’ said Charles. ‘You must have done a good job.’

Josiah tapped his nose. ‘Always do my best, sir. Now what brings you to my palace? ’As there been a reply to the notice?’

‘Indeed there has,’ said Thomas with a grin, ‘and Miss Stewart managed to hide a message in it telling us where she is being held. She’s in Dartford.’

‘Dartford, eh? And well, I ’ope?’

‘It would seem so.’

‘Thank the Lord for that. But Dartford’s an ’orrid place. Beggars and thieves, very poor folk, plague and pox, and wild country all around. Do we know where in Dartford she is?’

‘We don’t, but we think Henrietta might have been right about the marshes. That’s where we’ll look first.’

‘They’re big, the Dartford marshes. Go on for ever along the river. Won’t be easy to find Miss Stewart in there. No one much lives there except a few cottars.’

‘Do you know the area, Josiah?’

‘A little, sir. Did a job there five years ago. Evil spot, it is.’

‘Then that’s where she’ll be. A place where few people go.’

Josiah nodded. ‘Daresay you’re right, sir. What’s your plan?’

‘We haven’t told Mr Williamson yet, in case he feels the militia should be sent in,’ said Charles. ‘We’d rather spy out the land ourselves. Then we’ll tell him if we need to.’

‘You and Mr ’Ill, sir?’

‘And you, Josiah, if you’re willing.’

‘Willing or not, sir, you’ll need me. Mr ’Ill gets ’imself into trouble when I’m not there.’

‘So I do,’ replied Thomas, remembering the old hag in the alley. ‘Good man, Josiah. This is what we propose. Mr Carrington and I will return now to Piccadilly to tell Mrs Carrington. Best she knows in case of problems. We’ll make our way to Dartford tomorrow morning and meet you there at midday. Is there a place we can safely meet?’

Josiah pursed his lips. ‘There’s a little church at the west end of the village. Can’t remember its name, but you’ll find it easy enough.’

‘The church at midday it is. And Josiah, not a word to Mr Williamson, mind.’

‘No, sir. I know you’ll speak for me if need be.’

‘Of course I shall. We’ll be off then. Until tomorrow.’

‘She won’t be happy,’ remarked Thomas on the way back. ‘She’ll say I’m an irresponsible fool.’

‘And she’ll say I’m too old to be wading about in marshes. Leave it to me, Thomas. I’ll put my celebrated diplomatic skills to good use.’ Charles grinned. Thomas raised his eyebrows and said nothing.

HAVING AGREED TO set off at four the next morning, Thomas left Charles to exercise his skills and went to his bed. If they were to travel to Dartford and spend hours or even days searching the marshes, he would need some sleep. He had had almost none for three days.

Sleep, however, proved elusive. Thoughts of Madeleine and the anticipation of finding her kept his mind busy long after it should have closed down. Eventually he gave up, lit a candle and tried to read.

Well before dawn, Thomas and Charles walked the short distance from the house to the stairs at Whitehall, from where they took a wherry across the river to Lambeth. Charles assured Thomas with a wink that his powers of persuasion had been well up to the task and that Mary was sleeping peacefully. He had buckled on two swords, and Thomas knew from experience that he was equally adept with either hand or both at once.

At that time of the morning the streets and the river were quiet. Even the night-soil men were not yet up and about. The wherryman told them of an inn with stables where horses might be found at a reasonable price and, looking pointedly at Charles’s swords, wished them luck with whatever they were planning to do.

The innkeeper was woken and offered a good price for two sound animals, both rested and capable of a hard morning’s ride. The normal route from Lambeth would be along the river path past Greenwich and Woolwich and south to Dartford when they reached the river Darent. However, Thomas reckoned that the direct route across country from Greenwich would save a good five miles as long as the road was in reasonable repair. They decided to risk it and set off at a steady trot.

At Greenwich they stopped at an inn to give the horses water and to take breakfast, and from there took the road across country to Dartford. It led them through woodland and over heathland and past three tiny hamlets. The road was rough but dry and they made good progress. They spoke little, each content with his own thoughts.