Valerie Anand - The House Of Lanyon

James took control. “This is Father Meadowes,” he said. “At the moment something is making him anxious and we’re wondering if your visit is to do with the same matter. Is your business by any chance connected with one Christopher Clerk, Father Meadowes’s assistant?”

“It may be,” said Nicholas. “If Christopher Clerk has left the castle. Has he?”

“Yes. He’s vanished,” said Meadowes. “He went out after dinner as he often does. I had set him passages of Scripture on which to meditate, and in fine weather like today he likes to do that out of doors. He went off across the pasture that slopes down to the sea. I saw him go. But he hasn’t come back and we can’t find him anywhere.”

“Does he have red hair?”

“Very much so,” said James. “A tonsure like a sunset, as a matter of fact.”

“My girl Liza’s vanished, as well,” said Nicholas. “And so have two of my ponies! I thought to look before I came here. And there’s been talk, about her and a young fellow with a red tonsure, possibly Christopher Clerk. We didn’t want to make a to-do over a bit of flirtation, even with a clerk, especially as we weren’t sure there was anything in it but silly tattle. We always thought Liza had some sense. We told her we’d found her a marriage and she seemed agreeable. We reckoned if there’d been any nonsense, it was just sweet talk and that she’d put it behind her. Now we think otherwise. We’re afraid she’s run away from home and if so, she’d hardly go on her own. Now you say this red-haired clerk…”

“He’s a deacon,” said Meadowes.

“Is he, indeed? Well, you tell me he’s missing. Have they run off together?”

“It’s possible,” said Meadowes slowly.

“So what can be done? I want my girl back. The marriage we’ve arranged is a good one and by that I mean a happy one. I’m a careful father, I hope. I’ve got her welfare at heart and a runaway priest isn’t what’s best for her.”

“And you want to get her back before anything happens and before the young man she’s betrothed to finds out what she’s done,” said Elizabeth helpfully. “Father Meadowes, where might Christopher have taken her? Where does he come from? That might be a guide.”

“Bristol,” said Meadowes. “But his father’s a highly respectable merchant there. He won’t have gone near his father! He studied in Oxford, but—no, I doubt if he’s gone there either. It’s hardly the place for a runaway couple to go to for sanctuary. I’d guess they’d make for a city, but they’d be more likely to choose Exeter or London.”

“Three directions,” said James, thinking aloud. “London by way, to start with, of Taunton or Bridgwater, or south over the moor to Exeter by way of Tiverton. One of those.”

“Bridgwater’s likely,” said Meadowes. “Christopher knows that road well. I’ve several times called on friends there and taken him with me. I doubt he’s ever been to Taunton.”

“I could be quite wrong,” said Nicholas unhappily. “But Liza’s gone, and taken linen and toilet things. There’s been talk of her and a red-haired clerk, and we’d just told Liza about the marriage we’d planned for her. That could have been the spark in the straw. I hope I’m wrong. I want to be, but…”

He looked at James with a question in his face, and James answered it. “I’m sorry for you, Master Weaver, and I doubt very much that you’re wrong. We’ll go after them. Meadowes, are you joining us?”

“Of course. I can still sit a horse for a few hours, despite my grey tonsure,” said the chaplain. “And the boy is my student as well as my assistant. I feel responsible for him. I should have pressed him harder over the rumours about Master Weaver’s girl. I fear I’ve been remiss.”

“The more helpers we have, the better,” James Luttrell said. “Weaver, you and Meadowes can take one of my men and try the Bridgwater road. I’ll send two men by way of Taunton, and myself, I’ll take another two and ride for Exeter. Light’s going, but the sky’s clear and the moon’s nearly full. We’ll fetch them back, never fear. Young folk in love can be the very devil and their own worst enemies, but we’ll see if we can’t save these two from themselves. You can borrow one of my horses.”

He turned to the gatekeeper’s boy, who was still in the hall, listening openmouthed with excitement. “Get to the stable, my lad, and tell them to saddle eight horses. My Bay Arrow, Grey Dunster—he’s hardly been out today—and whatever else is fit and not tired. Then send the garrison sergeant to me and after that, get back to your post. Hurry!”

The daylight was going. Grooms held up lanterns while the horses were brought out and saddled. Picking up the smell of urgency from the humans, the horses fidgeted and tossed impatient heads while their girths were tightened. James Luttrell, who seemed to have the entire map of the west country in his head, was giving final instructions, complete with landmarks, to the men who were going by way of Taunton. Nicholas, Father Meadowes and Gareth, the Welsh man-at-arms who was to accompany them on the Bridgwater road were all familiar with their own route.

The mood was that of a hunting party, albeit an unusually unsmiling one. Father Meadowes actually said as much to James Luttrell as they clattered down the slope to the village below. “If we had hounds with us, this would feel like a chase. Except that I’ve never gone hunting after dark before and never had a man as my quarry before, either. It’s a strange feeling.”

At the foot of the slope they turned left, to circle the castle hill on its inland side. The first group to peel off was Luttrell’s. “Good luck!” he called, taking off his hat to wave farewell to the others as he led his party away, bound for Exeter through the town of Tiverton on the south side of the moor. “I just pray somebody catches them before it’s too late!”

Christopher and Liza rode eastward through the fading day. The Channel was dulling into a misty grey and shadows were gathering in the hollows of the inland hills. “You’re safe with me. I hope you know that,” Christopher said suddenly. “Believe me, I haven’t quite abandoned my upbringing! There’s a lot to be said for being steady and reliable, and I mean to be that for you. I shall take the greatest care of you. It was clever of you to think of taking the ponies. We’ll send them back eventually.”

“Yes, of course. I hated taking them, but we needed them so much.” She did feel safe with him. They were doing a crazy thing, a wrong thing in the eyes of the world, but it was a right thing, as well. It was right because Christopher was Christopher and they belonged with one another.

“Will anyone guess where we’ve gone?” she asked. “They’ll be after us as soon as they know.”

“They might guess at London. If they do, they’ll probably think we began by making for Taunton. It’s the more usual road. But I know the Bridgwater one and just because it’s not so usual, I think it’s the safest one for us.”

“I wish it could be different,” said Liza. “I wish we could be married with everyone congratulating us and pleased with us, approving of us and wishing us luck. I feel like a hunted deer. I keep straining my ears to hear the hounds! But all the same, I’m so very glad to be here with you.”

“And I am glad to be with you, sweetheart. I hate the thought of being hunted down, as well. We just mustn’t be caught, that’s all!”

At Allerbrook Peter was not exactly refusing to speak to his father, nor was Richard making it too obvious that he was furious with his son. Neither had any wish to expose their disagreement to the world. Conversation of a sort had taken place around the Rixons’ table, mostly concerned with farming matters. It had been generally agreed that the field known as Quillet might well support a crop of wheat, but ought to be fenced.