Nicola Cornick - Lord Greville's Captive

Both Muna and Edwina were watching her with curiosity in their eyes. Anne sat down on the wooden settle with a heartfelt sigh.

‘Lord Greville is very like Sir Henry, only more—’ She stopped, aware of her audience’s round-eyed interest. ‘More forceful,’ she finished carefully, anxious not to give too much of her feelings away.

‘Lord have mercy!’ Edwina said drily. ‘Like Sir Henry, but more forceful!’ She looked closely at her former charge. ‘You are very pink in the face, my lady. I seem to remember that you had a great regard for this Lord Greville when he came a-courting here at Grafton.’

There was the scrape of wood on stone as the door opened and John re-entered the chamber. Anne gratefully accepted the cup of warm milk that he pressed into her hands, wrapping her cold fingers about it and using the time it gave her to fend off Edwina’s enquiries.

‘It was many years ago that Simon Greville came here, Edwina,’ she said. ‘Have you forgotten that we are on different sides now?’

Edwina made a humphing sound. The loyalty of Anne’s close servants was absolute, but they had a simpler view than she of allegiance to the King or the Parliament. To them such civil strife caused nothing but trouble, took food from the mouths of the poor, split brother from brother and took sons from their mothers. They supported the King mainly because the Earl was the King’s man and they held fast to their fealty to him and to his daughter. And now Anne realized, with a sinking heart, that she had to tell them she had failed them.

‘Lord Greville will not call off the assault on the Manor,’ she said baldly. ‘I asked him and he refused.’

She looked at them over the rim of the cup. There was a moment of stillness when she could see her own horror and misery etched clear on the faces of them all. They had thought that she would save them.

Then John cleared his throat.

‘You did your best, milady,’ he said gruffly. ‘It was far more than that miserable cur Malvoisier would do for us. Don’t you go feeling bad about that.’

Muna gripped her hand hard. ‘He would not even do it to save Sir Henry? Oh, Nan…’

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