Филиппа Карр: Daughters of England

"I think he might brave that."

"He might. But would he subject you to it? As his wife you would be suspect too. He knows that. If he loves you he will not subject you to that. But, depend upon it, he will not return, and the time is passing."

"I shall wait for him. I have promised."

"You will change your mind. You could be happy, you know. Sebastian will be the best of husbands. You are living in a romantic dream. Come out of it and face reality. And anyway, what is happening to Featherston now? It will revert to what it was before Kirkwell took it in hand. There is a manager, but that is not the same. Look at James Morton and Christobel, with their little Luke, and expecting another. Perfectly content. There is nothing so satisfying as family life."

It was something he had never experienced. He wanted to enjoy it vicariously through me. I felt very tender towards him at times. He desperately wanted this. He wanted those grandchildren, and that would compensate him for those sons and daughters of his own whom he had never seen playing in the grounds of Rosslyn Manor.

I wished I could please him. I was often in Sebastian's company. He did not speak to me of marriage. He was too tactful. I think he understood me better than my father did. I had a feeling that he would ask me if the moment ever came when I gave up hope of seeing Kirkwell again and chose to take the way my father had chosen for me. But it was not yet.

Nevertheless, I was getting more and more fond of Sebastian. I recognized the kindliness and understanding behind that nonchalant exterior of his. I could enjoy a peaceful, serene life with his calm acceptance of whatever life brought him.

Meanwhile the rumblings of discontent went on throughout the nation.

The King was in conflict with seven of the leading bishops and, to the horror of many of his subjects, they were imprisoned in the Tower.

When they were released there was rejoicing in the streets, which was an indication of James's growing unpopularity with the people, and it should have been a warning to him that the people were getting restive. More and more influential and ambitious men were slipping out of England and arriving in Holland. When the Queen bore a son, there was some misgiving in high places. If this son lived, then there would be a Catholic heir.

There were rumors about the child. It was said that there had been something suspicious about his birth. He was not the King's son. They had tricked the nation. The King's wife had given birth to a stillborn child and a healthy one had been substituted in a warming pan. All over the country people were talking of the Warming-Pan Baby.

Rumors said that the shipyards of Holland were working at full strength, and William of Orange was one of the foremost Protestants in Europe. His wife was James's daughter, next in line to the throne, if one did not count this newborn child, the Warming-Pan Baby.

After some months of speculation, when it came it seemed inevitable.

On the fifteenth of November, just over three years since Kirk-well had left England, William of Orange landed at Brixham near Torbay. There was no opposition. Weary of the ineffectual rule of James, and his determination to ignore the will of the people, many were deserting him. The defection of Churchill, with the army, was the fatal blow.

There was little resistance. The inevitable had happened, and, as King Charles had prophesied, his brother James's rule had not lasted four years.

My hopes were high. My father said: "Mayhap he has made a new life over there."

There was a certain wistful look on his face. He did not want me to be unhappy, but he longed to see me married to Sebastian.

It was mid-November. I was in my room thinking: Will he come? Is it possible that he has indeed made a new life over there? Shall I ever see him again?

Then I heard Amy's voice calling me.

I ran down.

He was there beside her.

He looked older, rather gaunt. He had changed, but he was still Kirkwell.

He looked at me and he smiled.

Then he said: "Kate ... you waited."

I was in his arms, touching his face to assure myself that he was real. I was exulting, overcome with emotion.

Then I said simply: "Yes, Kirk. I waited."