32

I t is always harder for those left to wait, powerless to influence events. Sir Thomas and William, with the two documents, have clattered on their way south. Alice tries to banish the fear that Sir Thomas, standing to win acclaim whether he saves Wat the innocent or lets Wat the felon hang, is unlikely to feel driven to reach Portland in time. Doubts assail her because she hung back, too mindful of Ursula’s bar on her involvement. Yet she gave her word…

The gaoler has disappeared back into his lodging and extinguished his lantern. Apart from the occasional jingle of harness and random growls of thunder away in the west, the dark street is quiet. There is nothing left for the five to do but make their way home when dawn comes.

Jay has recovered from his disappointment. Rather better than myself, Alice reflects, bitterness still holding sway as she hangs back from riding alongside Ursula. Vainly she tries not to resent her friend permitting Sir Thomas to have his own way.

Jay addresses Ursula. ‘There’s an inn at the top of the town where you may be comfortable, mistress. The sign of St George. We can rouse the landlord and wait there until it is light.’

‘Can he hire us horses to return to the mansion?’ Ursula asks.

‘He will have horses,’ Jay says.

It is a short distance up the hill to the inn Jay recommends. The modest two-storey building fronts the street, with stables opposite, as they discover moments later when Jay knocks on the inn door and a boy emerges from a wicket gate over the road. ‘No point hammering on that,’ he tells Jay. ‘They be at the back.’ He leads them round the side of the inn and bangs at a small door. At the second attempt a casement opens above and a sleep-sodden voice demands, ‘Who’s there?’

Then they are in a small parlour, the landlord flicking a cloth over the settle and offering it to Ursula and Alice. The other three fetch stools from those upended on tables. As he hands round drinks, Yes, he has horses, the landlord says, but not a coach.

Hard put to conceal her irritation, Alice has remained standing. ‘With your leave,’ she says to Ursula, ‘I should like to ride back to the mansion now.’

‘So soon?’ Ursula asks. ‘Will it not be better to wait for daylight?’

‘I’ve not seen Sam for over a week and I should like to be there when he wakes.’

‘You have ridden far and long, Alice. Surely it will be better to wait and make our way home all together.’

‘He often wakes at dawn. I shall be too late if I wait.’

Ursula regards her. ‘Very well. Jay, you too have ridden long and earned your rest.’ She turns to one of her stable boys. ‘Do you go with them. Rouse Esther, tell her to gather a suitable change of clothes for me, and bring her back in the small coach.’ Ursula, Alice sees, has come round to the reflection that riding by night in the heat of urgency is one thing, but going unsuitably clad in loose gown and kirtle by day is quite another for the lady of the Cazanove mansion.

It was simple enough coming down that long incline into Sherborne, their hopes high, but Alice recognises now that despite her fears, she was confident they were arriving well in time. It is no easy matter, she finds, to climb back up the hill. The horses are tired, and she herself is now tiring fast. Any thought of riding to catch up with Sir Thomas and urge him to speed is stillborn. All else besides, he would scoff at her “womanly fears” and ignore her. More importantly, she has already deceived Ursula in going to Bristol instead of Exeter, and threatened her friend’s goodwill with her blurted home truths. The deep mutual trust so recently formed between them by their shared role in Sam’s story can sustain only so much. She gave her word to trust Ursula’s judgment over the Bristol documents. If she were to violate that now, she could shatter their friendship.

So there is nothing to do but return to the mansion. She used Sam as an excuse to be out of Ursula’s company, but in truth she is hoping that Sam will have elected to occupy her bed while she is away. It will be such a comfort to climb in and fall asleep cuddling him. With a pang she realises how much she has missed that contact, the baby smell he still carries in the crook of his neck, the stories he relates of his day, his dancing excitement, the things he has learned, and the questions, always questions.

From Sherborne to Hillbury to Dorchester to Portland. As the miles pass, Alice tells herself over and over that Sir Thomas and his man William are competent to make the journey. Two will indeed be faster than seven and more likely to get to Portland in time. William is an experienced night rider and will know the best ways, the parts to circumvent. There has been so little recent rain that there will be no dangerous stream crossings to hold them up, scant chance of marshy ground to bog them down. As he and Sir Thomas prepared to leave, William assured them all that once they are past Dorchester the way gets easier because the road is well made. With hearty confidence he added that the last stretch to Portland will be fast, because the light off the sea lightens the night like a false dawn.

And at the word “dawn” they all fell silent and Sir Thomas hastened William away, leaving the rest in that menacing void.

Alice listens as Jay and the stable boy comment to each other how, curiously, it seems to take less time to ride back than it did to make the outward journey. And this despite their ambling progress in the sultry night. Perhaps, they wonder, it is because this time they bypass Woodley Court and remain on the road for Hillbury. All Alice can think is that it seems to be taking an age either way. Although it is still dark, the night sight they have gained allows them to see well ahead. It is a relief when the familiar country, the bends in the road, even the odd tree, give them clear indications of their approach to Hillbury. From the village they will shortly take the track making direct for the dye houses and then the mansion. The horses recognise the way and need hardly a hand on the rein. Ursula’s stable boy has moved ahead of them. He is already several dozen paces in front.

‘You’ll be as glad as I am to get home, Jay, I would guess?’ Alice says.

‘I shall that. I’m not often away from Hillbury for this long.’

‘It’s hard, being away from someone you love,’ she says. ‘I’ve missed Sam, my son. I worry that the separation will have been harder for him.’

I’ve missed… I’ve missed a friend of mine.’

‘I expect your friend has missed you too,’ she says.

‘He didn’t want me to go,’ Jay says, ‘but I said, I wanted to go, to see that Rob was all right.’

‘I have been so glad of you and Robin,’ Alice says. ‘I hope your friend will not hold it against me that I kept you apart from him this past week.’

‘He’ll understand,’ Jay says. For a few minutes as they walk their horses along the road, there is a companionable silence between them. Suddenly, he says, ‘You know, apart from the family, you’re the only person I’ve ever told.’

‘I’m just sorry it has to remain a secret, Jay.’

After another silence, ‘So Cazanove knew all along that Wat had committed no crime,’ she muses. ‘What I cannot fathom is why he went to such lengths. What did he have against Wat?’

‘He liked to control,’ Jay says. ‘Look at the dyeworks, how he treated us all—’ He breaks off. Then, ‘What’s this?’

The stable boy has turned and is coming back to them. ‘Riders ahead,’ he says, ‘coming up from Hillbury.’

All three pull up and strain to see. A dark shadow and the sound of hooves at a walk. ‘Who else is abroad tonight?’ Jay wonders into the darkness.

‘If it’s smugglers, we should get out of sight,’ the stable boy says.

‘I don’t think it is,’ Alice says. ‘Not enough of them, and you can hear they are not loaded.’

But they move as one to the side of the way to be less visible. It is not long before they can discern four horses, only one of them carrying a rider, and a second figure walking alongside. ‘It can’t be!’ Alice and Jay say together, and they both spur towards the slowly progressing little group.

‘Sir Thomas!’ Alice calls.

Sir Thomas, hunched forward over his mount does not answer. It is William walking alongside and steadying him, who explains. ‘My master has been thrown. He landed heavily and is too injured to continue. I am taking him back to Woodley Court. We shall have to send for a surgeon.’

‘Is he in his wits?’ Jay asks when no comment comes from Sir Thomas.

‘He is, but he is in much pain, and prefers not to talk.’

‘You could leave him at Nick Patten’s,’ Alice suggests. ‘Margery will look after him until a surgeon can be found.’

‘Leave Sir Thomas Harcourt at a common alehouse?’ William says in horrified tones. ‘It’s more than my position is worth!’

‘Aren’t you going on to Portland?’ Alice asks.

‘You’re joking!’

‘Then who is taking the documents to Portland?’ Jay demands.

‘My first concern is my master,’ he insists.

‘Do you know the nature of his injury?’ Alice asks him.

‘A low branch unseated him and he fell. He broke his collar bone or his arm, I am not sure. I did not wish to injure him further by moving it. It was only at his insistence and with great difficulty that I managed to get him re-mounted.’

Alice approaches Sir Thomas who sits leaning over, holding his right elbow in his left hand. ‘Sir Thomas, do you know what the injury is?’

His voice is laboured, full of pain as he answers. ‘I think… not broken… perhaps dislocated… my shoulder.’

‘Sir, would you rather go home or stop down the road here at the inn?’

‘Home,’ he manages to say, his breathing shallow. ‘I prefer… I can make it home. Where is Mistress Cazanove?’

‘Waiting for her maidservant to be brought to the George in Sherborne, sir,’ Jay says, coming to join Alice. ‘We came on ahead.’

‘That is well,’ he manages to say.

‘One of us will carry the documents to Portland on your behalf, sir, if you will allow me to have them?’ Alice asks.

‘Two of us,’ Jay says.

‘My… pocket,’ Sir Thomas grates. ‘This side. Take them.’

Alice reaches up and pulls out both papers. ‘I have them sir. We must leave you and be on our way. God give you a speedy cure.’

Ursula’s stable boy says to her, ‘You will need fresh mounts. We’ll take four from my mistress’ stables.’

‘Sir Thomas,’ Jay says, ‘does anyone at Portland Castle know the name of Sir Thomas Harcourt?’

‘I don’t know them at Portland. It’s a garrison. Go to… Dorchester prison first. Demand Thomas Sparrow… the Keeper. Get him to give you the name of the senior officer, Head Keeper or whatever he is at Portland.’

Sir Thomas and William continue up the road towards Woodley and the three turn off the main way for the mansion. This is a familiar way and they can go at a trot. Alice turns to Jay. ‘Do you carry the papers, Jay. They got a bit dog-eared in my pocket. You can better hold them flat inside your shirt. And look what came out of Sir Thomas’ pocket with them.’ In the dark she puts the straw into his hand. ‘That was the short straw.’

Jay exclaims quietly. ‘So they all had a long straw.’

Ursula’s stable boy is outraged. ‘You mean, Sir Thomas hid the short straw and made us all believe Will was his choice by chance?’

‘I wouldn’t worry,’ Jay says. ‘He has been royally served for his deceit.’

‘Poor Sir Thomas,’ Alice says, wincing. ‘He is in for a very painful time, I believe.’ She recalls a drawing in an anatomical work Frederick once showed her, that stuck in her mind for its peculiarity. A ladder held upright between two sturdy men, a third man hoisted up and his arm heaved over one of the rungs. Clearly, he was the patient as he wore only loose linen breeches, and a night cap. In case of any doubt, his mouth was turned down at the corners. Ropes were looped round his shoulders and under his arms, attached to pulleys. A fourth man stood over him, and Alice had a nasty suspicion that he was there to prevent the poor unfortunate tumbling off the ladder when the two sturdy men hauled on the ropes and pulleys. It was apparently the cure for a dislocated shoulder.

In the court at the Cazanove mansion, waiting for fresh mounts to be saddled, Alice realises her weariness has receded. The chance meeting with Sir Thomas has given her a burst of energy. Or perhaps it is the re-possession of the two statements.

‘We never asked where Sir Thomas fell,’ Jay says.

‘No but it was a low branch, and they could appear anywhere. Jay, if that happens to me, you are to leave me at the nearest cottage and continue on. Promise me?’

‘If you will promise to leave me where I lie if I should fall instead.’

Alice chuckles in the dark. ‘Imagine Master Sparrow, Keeper of Dorchester jail, allowing himself to be summoned by a lone woman!’

‘I suspect you’d do it, somehow or other,’ Jay says. ‘There’s not much stopping you when you get the bit between the teeth, if you don’t mind my saying so.’

She doesn’t mind at all, but it prompts a thought. ‘Tell me,’ she says, ‘does that mean I bullied Robin while we were in Bristol? I should be sorry to think I added to his discomfort.’

‘He’s made of stern stuff, is Robin. And we both enjoyed it if you want to know. But we worried about you.’

‘You’re not going to say, because I’m a woman?’

‘No, I’m not. Not exactly, anyway.’

‘What, then?’

‘Well…’ Jay is silent for a moment. ‘Robin has a daughter. So he knows how it was when his wife was with child.’

Alice laughs quietly. There are few secrets these two brothers do not seem to fathom. ‘I see I am discovered. You’re right, Jay. And it took Mistress Kemp to tell me. Can you believe, I had no idea!’

‘Should you be riding?’

‘I think there is no harm in it at present. Some women ride up to the time of their confinement.’

‘If I take a tumble,’ Jay says, ‘I want your promise that you will not pick me up. Those are my conditions.’