Page 72 of Exile's Return

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Turner held up his hand. ‘Peace, Leah. She is here to await the return of the Colonel.’

‘You could have sent me word to expect a visitor,’ Leah complained.

‘I do not intend to inconvenience you, Mistress Turner. I have come to see Colonel Ashby — and the children,’ Agnes said, collecting up the too-long skirts of Nell Longley’s riding gown.

‘You are not welcome here,’ Leah Turner said.

‘Sister,’ Septimus Turner spoke. ‘Mistress Fletcher has good reason to see the Colonel and we must accommodate her until he returns. Please extend her the courtesy of a guest.’

Inwardly Agnes seethed.A guest?In her own home?

She picked up her skirts and mounted the steps but Leah Turner did not move, remaining an immovable obstacle to the entrance.

‘It will not be possible to see the children,’ Leah Turner said. ‘Not while the Colonel is in London. Our orders are quite explicit on that subject.’

Agnes studied the woman through narrowed eyes. She had to be careful which battles she picked, and however much it grieved her to be so close to the children, for the time being, this might be one she would have to concede.

‘It has been a long, tiring journey,’ she said. ‘Be so good as to conduct me to my room, Mistress Turner.’

Leah’s mouth twitched. ‘As we were not expecting guests, there is no bed made up, but if you care to follow me. You…’ she addressed Daniel, ‘see to the horses.’

The woman turned and proceeded into the house.

‘I know the way to my bedchamber,’ Agnes said.

She received no response, and her heart sank as the woman turned right instead of left at the top of the stairs, leading her toward the old part of the castle, to a badly lit, cold room with heavy stone walls, only partly relieved by a couple of heavy tapestries and a small half tester bed.

No fire burned in the fireplace and the room smelled musty and damp. Protest would be pointless. It was not unreasonable to have expected her not to be returning to Charvaley. No doubt the pleasant, airy chamber that had been hers for the past eight years had been reassigned.

Leah Turner pointed at the wooden chest at the end of the bed.

‘That is yours, I believe. Your belongings were set aside should you send for them,’ she said. ‘I will have the bed made up and a fire lit.’

Agnes removed her hat and gloves, setting them on the chest.

‘Mistress Turner—Leah—I would like to see the children.’ She repeated the request in a soft, placatory tone. A woman appealing to a woman.

Leah’s face betrayed no emotion. ‘I will send food and drink for you and water to refresh yourself. Good day, Mistress Fletcher.’

Agnes pulled at the strings of her cloak as she looked around the austere room. What had she expected? To be welcomed back with open arms?

She stared at the heavy iron-studded door. Leah Turner could rot in hell — she would see the children.

She tried the latch and to her surprise, it opened but leaning against the wall outside was one of Turner’s soldiers. He straightened on seeing her.

‘Who are you?’ she demanded.

The man whipped off his hat and shuffled his feet. ‘Trooper Brown, ma’am.’

‘Am I under armed guard?’ she enquired.

The man frowned and scratched his chin. ‘My orders are to see you get a good rest,’ he said, ‘And to take you to Mistress Turner or the Captain when they send for you.’

‘Am I not permitted the opportunity to stretch my legs?’

‘Not in my orders, ma’am,’ the man said.

Her heart sank. She’d not come home, she had walked into virtual, if not actual, imprisonment, subject to the whims of the Colonel or Captain Turner, and stood little chance of either seeing the children or investigating the hiding place for the gold while she remained trapped in this room. She wondered how on Earth she would even get a message to Daniel.