Andrew Swanston - The King's Return

‘Right, sir,’ replied Josiah, looking relieved. ‘Good day, gentlemen.’

‘What about Morland?’ asked Charles, when Josiah had gone.

Joseph pointed at the fragments on the table. ‘These mean nothing. We still have no evidence that Morland is a spy, despite his manners and his background. He was not the only man to espouse the cause of Parliament when it was prudent to do so and his rudeness does not make him a traitor. I dare not detain Morland without good reason, but I shall have him watched.’

‘In that case, Joseph, Charles and I will return home and leave the matter in your hands.’

Mary and Madeleine were still sitting together when they arrived home. Charles told them about Lambeth and Morland. ‘It’s hardly proof,’ said Mary. ‘Is there nothing more?’

‘It’s more than we had before,’ replied Charles sharply, ‘and it might lead us to Stoner.’

‘Mottershead will make enquiries,’ added Thomas, ‘while Morland is being watched.’

‘So again we must wait on Josiah,’ said Madeleine. ‘Let us hope he does not need your assistance a second time. Tomorrow I should like to be taken out. If one of you is available, that is.’

Thomas grinned at her. ‘You know how unreliable Charles is. I shall escort you.’

The hired carriage that called for Thomas and Madeleine the next morning took them past More Fields towards Hampstead Heath. Wonderful views of the city and air free of coal smoke and evil vapours had made Hampstead Hill a popular destination. One would not venture there at night, but on a lovely summer morning it was glorious. They took with them a pique-nique prepared by Mary’s cook and a bottle of Charles’s wine. Under an oak newly come into leaf, from where they could see the Tower of London and beyond, they set out their pique-nique on a linen cloth the size of a large dining table, with a cushion for each of them to sit upon.

‘Are the French fond of pique-niques ?’ asked Madeleine, in between mouthfuls. ‘It does seem to be one of their better ideas.’

‘When Margaret and I used to take the girls out to the meadows by the river,’ said Thomas, ‘we often took our dinner with us. The girls loved it and I always fell asleep under a tree. We’d never heard of pique-niques . Typical of the French to think up some fancy name and claim they invented the whole thing. The Romans were eating mice and snails in their gardens centuries ago.’

‘Shall we take a stroll?’ asked Madeleine when they had finished.

‘We shall.’

They walked slowly along the ridge which formed the hill, stopping from time to time to gaze down at the city. ‘It gets bigger by the month,’ said Madeleine. ‘It can’t grow east into the sea, but I suppose it will continue to expand in every other direction. What’s to stop it?’

‘Nothing, I imagine. Houses, shops, streets, squares, churches, more houses until it reaches Kingston or Richmond.’ They were silent for a while until Thomas asked, ‘Do you share your father’s faith?’

‘I pretended to until he died, but now I attend church only when I have to.’

‘And I. Worship should be a private matter. Public displays of it I dislike.’

Madeleine looked at him. ‘How odd that we should share such views. In the interminable conflicts between Protestant and Catholic, conformist and non-conformist, you and I choose to be neutral. Peace before prayer, one might say.’

‘Indeed. And courtesy before creed. I have often thought that there’s much to be said for Judaism. The Jews do not try to force their opinions on anyone else and keep themselves largely to themselves. Why they should be persecuted for their faith is beyond my understanding. At least Cromwell showed more tolerance towards them.’

‘Have you ever considered that Judaism is easier than Christianity? Or Islam, for that matter?’

‘In what way easier?’

‘A Jew must only believe in his God. A Christian must believe in his God and that Christ was his son. A Muslim must believe in his God and that Mohammed was his prophet. One leap of faith is easier than two, don’t you think?’

‘I’d never thought of it like that.’

They had walked half a mile. ‘Now that we’ve dealt with that, shall we return?’ asked Madeleine, taking Thomas’s arm and steering him back along the ridge to where the coach was waiting for them. Thomas helped Madeleine in and they set off back to Piccadilly. Looking at her, Thomas saw that the colour was returning to her cheeks. She would very soon want to go back to her own home and the care of Agnes. The image of Agnes and Josiah together made him smile.

‘Why do you smile?’ she asked.

But before Thomas could reply, a front wheel lurched into a hole and there was a fearful grinding noise. They came to a sudden and uncomfortable halt and were jolted off their seats and on to the floor. ‘I fear that sounded like an axle,’ said Thomas, helping Madeleine up. ‘Sit there and I will investigate.’

The coachman calmed the horses and jumped down. They peered under the carriage – not that much peering was needed. The front axle had twisted when the wheel hit the hole and the wheel itself had come loose. They would not be travelling any further in this vehicle.

Thomas stood up. ‘If you stay there, my dear, I will go and find another carriage.’

Madeleine climbed down. ‘Nonsense. It is no more than a mile to the house. Why don’t we walk?’

‘If you feel strong enough.’

‘Tush, Thomas. Of course I am strong enough.’ Leaving the coachman to deal with the problem as best he could, they set off towards Piccadilly.

Madeleine appeared to be enjoying herself. ‘I pity the poor coachman, but it has livened up the day, don’t you think?’

‘Did it need livening up?’

‘Certainly it did. A simple pique-nique is nothing like exciting enough now that I am well.’ Thomas ignored her.

When they reached Piccadilly the street became busier and they had to walk more slowly. Outside Berkeley House, Madeleine stopped and put a hand to her throat. The colour had suddenly drained from her face and she spoke in a whisper. ‘Oh dear, I feel quite unwell. Can we sit down for a moment?’

Thomas looked about. Other than on the ground, there was nowhere to sit. ‘We are nearly there. Can you not manage to walk?’ Madeleine shook her head. Then she turned away and vomited. Thomas put an arm around her shoulders and waited for the retching to stop. When it had, he put his other arm under her knees and gently picked her up. Passers-by made space for them and within two minutes they were at the Carringtons’ house. Thomas shouted for Smythe, who opened the door and let them in.

Mary came out of the sitting room. ‘What happened, Thomas?’

‘I don’t know. She was quite well and then suddenly felt ill. I will take her up to her bedroom.’

Mary followed them up. ‘Leave her to me, Thomas,’ she ordered. ‘Ask Smythe to bring brandy and water.’

Thomas did as he was told and then went to sit with Charles. He told him what had happened.

It was an hour until Mary joined them. ‘She’s asleep. She told me about the carriage, Thomas. Really, you should not have permitted her to walk so far. She was exhausted.’

‘How is she now?’

‘She will be perfectly well after a rest. But do not on any account allow her to be so foolish again.’

‘I have sent for Joseph,’ said Charles. ‘I thought he ought to know.’ There was a knock on the door. ‘That will be him now.’

Smythe showed Joseph in. Before he could ask, Mary told him the story and assured him that no lasting damage had been done. Then she took him up to see Madeleine.

They had just come down when there was another knock on the door. ‘Good God,’ exclaimed Charles, ‘is all of London coming to visit the patient? Who can it be now?’