Philippa Gregory - Virgin Earth

“Not after you,” Hester said quietly. “But if they know that he came to the Ark for help then I may be in trouble.”

Frances turned at once to Alexander Norman and put her hands out to him. “You’ll look after us, won’t you?” she demanded. “You won’t let them take Mother away?”

He took her hands, and Hester saw that he had to stop himself from drawing her close. “Of course I will,” he said. “And if she’s in any danger at all I shall find somewhere safe for her, and for you all.”

Frances, still hand-clasped with Alexander, turned to her stepmother and Hester saw them, for the first time, as a couple; saw the tilt of his head toward her, saw her trust in him.

“Should you go into hiding?” Frances asked her.

“I’ll go to the Tower now,” Alexander decided, “and see what news there is. You keep the door locked until I return. They can hardly have found your name and traced you here so soon. We must be a day ahead at least.”

Hester found that her mouth was dry and reached for a glass of small ale. Alexander gave her a quick, encouraging smile. “Be of stout heart,” he said. “I will be back within the hour.”

The little family went back into the parlor and Frances and Johnnie took up their posts in the windowseat again, but this time they were not commenting on the passersby, they were on lookout. Hester sat, in uneasy idleness, by the fireside. The housekeeper coming in with fresh coal made them jump. “I’d have thought you would want to go out and walk around.”

“Perhaps later,” Hester said.

Inside the hour, true to his word, Alexander Norman came strolling down the street, stopping for a chat with his neighbor, who had a small goldsmith’s shop, and then opened his front door and stepped inside. At once his air of leisured cheerfulness deserted him.

“It’s bad news,” he said, checking that the parlor door was closed behind him. “Lady d’Aubigny took sanctuary in the French embassy under the pretext that her husband’s family is French. But Parliament has ordered that the French hand her over and they have done so. She’ll be tried for treason, she was carrying the king’s Commission of Array. She was trying to raise an army in the very City itself.”

“The French ambassador handed over an English lady of the king’s party to Parliament?” Hester demanded, incredulously.

“Yes,” Alexander said, looking grave. “Perhaps His Majesty has fewer friends in Paris than he thinks. Perhaps the French are preparing to deal with Parliament direct.”

Hester found she was standing by her chair, as if ready to run. She forced herself to sit down and to start breathing normally. “And what else?”

“Edmund Waller, who passes for the brains behind this brainless scheme, was taken up and is singing like a blinded thrush,” Alexander said. “He is naming everyone he spoke to, in the hopes of escaping Tower Hill and the block.”

“Would he have my name?” Hester asked quietly. She found her lips were numb and she could not speak clearly.

“I can’t tell,” Alexander said. “I didn’t want to ask too detailed questions for fear of attracting attention. We can hope that your man got clear away, and that he was too small a link in the chain to connect you to the plot.”

“As long as he was not captured on Father’s horse,” Frances pointed out.

“If I said it was me who gave him the horse…” Johnnie suggested. “I could say that it was me and that I was a royalist. They wouldn’t execute me, would they? I’m not ten yet. They’d give me a whipping and I don’t mind that. I’d get the blame and you’d be all right.”

Hester drew him toward her and kissed his smooth fair head. “I don’t want you involved in this, whatever the risks.” She looked up at Alexander Norman. “Should I stay? Or go?”

He bit his upper lip with his teeth. “It’s the devil’s own decision,” he said. “I think you should go. We gain nothing from you being here and we risk everything. If your man is captured and he follows the example of his betters he will volunteer information and he is bound to name you. Even if he goes free the king’s men are so indiscreet that your name might still be mentioned. Go to Oatlands and stay in John’s house in the garden for a week. I’ll send you a message if it’s all clear and you can come home again.”

“Oatlands?” Johnnie demanded. “With Prince Rupert?”

“Yes, he’s said to be quartered there,” Alexander Norman said. “At least you’ll be safe from Parliament while he is there.”

“Oatlands!” Johnnie exulted. “Prince Rupert! I’ll have to go with you. To defend you.”

Frances was about to say “I’ll come too,” but she hesitated and looked toward Alexander Norman. “Should I?”

“You’ll all go,” he said. “You’re safer there than anywhere if Rupert is still there. Parliament can’t arrest you there, you’ll be under royalist protection; and when you come home we can say you were only doing John’s work on the gardens.”

Frances was about to argue, but then she held her peace.

“You could go now,” Alexander said. He led the way out of the room to the narrow hall.

Hester hung back and looked at her beautiful stepdaughter. “Did you not want the risk of being with me?” she asked. “I would understand if you didn’t want to come to Oatlands. You can go to your grandparents if you wish, Frances.”

“Oh no!” Frances cried out, and suddenly she was a girl again. “Mother! Oh no! Whatever risks you were taking I should want to be with you. I’d never leave you alone to face danger! I was just thinking that perhaps Uncle Norman could come with us. I’d feel so much safer if he was with us.”

“The safest way is for him to be here, gathering news, and for us to be tucked out of the way in the country,” Hester said. “And when it is all quiet again we can go home. I don’t like to leave the rarities and the gardens.”

“In case Father comes home this month?” Johnnie asked.

Hester managed a smile. “In case Father comes home this month,” she agreed.

Oatlands Palace was beautiful in early summer. The garden was showing signs of neglect and most of the rooms of the house were shut up. There was a regiment of soldiers occupying the main hall and the regimental cooks working in the kitchens. The cavalry’s horses were stabled in the old royal stables and there was constant drilling and training and parading over John’s precious turf at the front of the palace. Prince Rupert was only rarely with his troops. Half the time he was at Oxford with the court, arguing against the negotiations for peace, bolstering up the king’s erratic determination to conquer the Parliament and not negotiate with them. The royalist cavalry troops paid no attention to the silkworm house nor to the gardener’s house next door to it. The commander saw Hester when he was walking in the gardens and Hester mentioned that since her husband was still nominally gardener to the palace she had thought it her duty to make sure that the gardens were not suffering too badly.

“Very commendable,” he said. “What needs doing?”

“The grass wants mowing,” Hester said. “And the knot garden needs weeding and trimming. The roses should have been pruned in winter, it’s too late now, and the fruit trees.”

He nodded. “These are not the times for gardening,” he said flatly. “You do what you can and I shall see that you are paid for your time.”

“Thank you,” Hester said.

“Who’s the pretty maid?” he asked abruptly.

“My stepdaughter.”

“Keep her out of the way of the men,” he said.

“She’ll stay by me,” Hester said. “Can she walk in the gardens?”