Page 73 of Exile's Return
Agnes retired back into the chamber and stood for a long moment looking at the heavy chest, the only item of furniture she had brought from her childhood home. She knelt beside it, running her hands over the smooth wood, now black with age.With her finger, she traced the familiar figures of David and Goliath on the lid. No need to look in her belongings for the key. The old lock had been prised open.
With a heavy sigh, she opened the lid and found her possessions had been thrown in with no order or respect. The only thing she treasured, a Bible box that had belonged to her father, sat at the top of the pile. She lifted it out, noting with distress that, like the chest, the lock had been prised open. Had they been looking for something that may have given them the clue to the gold, she wondered?
Mercifully, it looked as if everything within the box remained intact, albeit bearing the evidence of having been disturbed. Letters from her father and brother, her father’s Bible, and the sorts of trinkets and mementos a young girl collects in her lifetime, ribbons and broken bits of jewellery of no value. She lifted them out one by one, a sense of violation washing over her. These were her special, private things, and the thought of Ashby or Turner or one of his rough soldiers handling them made her feel quite ill. She carefully repacked the box, addingThe Faerie Queento the contents, and set it on the small table, one of the few pieces of furniture in the room.
She sank onto the chair beside the table and looked around the grim room. Perhaps it had been a terrible mistake coming here. Even knowing Daniel was also within the castle walls, and Kit and Jonathan not far away, she felt very alone and very afraid, not so much for herself but the children. She laid her head on her arms, sinking into a miasma of misery.
A tentative knock at the door brought her back to the present, and hastily wiping any tell-tale tears from her eyes, she rose to her feet. At her bidding, a maid entered the room carrying a tray. The scent of still warm, freshly baked bread rose from beneath the cloth and Agnes’s stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten in a very long time.
‘Welcome home, Mistress Fletcher.’
‘Sarah!’ The sight of Sarah Truscott’s broad, smiling face cheered her. It was all she could do not to throw her arms around the girl.
‘It’s so good to see a familiar face. I thought the Colonel had replaced all the staff,’ she said, watching as Sarah set the tray down on the table.
Sarah scowled. ‘Most of ‘em. Leastways those that had any position. The likes of me he don’t care about.’
‘I’m pleased to see you. How is Old Peg?’
‘Auntie is not as strong as she should be,’ Sarah frowned. The girl was Peg’s great-niece, her only living relative. ‘But she’ll be cheered to know you are back where you belong.’
‘I am only visiting, Sarah,’
Sarah glanced at the door. ‘Why’ve they set a man on t’ door?’
‘To make sure I don’t go wandering off in search of the children.’ Agnes laid a hand on the girl’s arm and said in a lowered voice, ‘Tell me, Sarah, are they well?’
A shadow crossed the girl’s face and her mouth turned down at the corners. ‘By all reports, but no one sees ‘em outside of Mistress Turner and Hannah the nursery maid.’
Agnes frowned. ‘They never leave the nursery?’
‘Not since they’ve been back from London, but the weather’s been foul and there’s always the chance of a small one catching a chill. Don’t fret yourself, Mistress Fletcher. They’ll be fine, just you see.’
Agnes regarded the girl’s open, friendly face. Just because she was the great-niece of the woman she had sent Daniel and the others to did not mean she was an ally.
‘I’m sure you’ll get to see ‘em in time, Mistress Fletcher. Now you eat up, while I make up the bed,’ Sarah said. ‘If you don’t mind me sayin’, you look a mite peaky. I’ll get that lazy sod outside to see to the fire.’
A grumbling Trooper Brown soon had a fire burning on the hearth while the girl briskly dressed the bed. Agnes ate the more-than-adequate repast of bread, jam, and cheese washed down with a familiar small ale. At least some things hadn’t changed.
Sarah regarded the empty platters. ‘You must’ve been hungry.’
‘Where’s my manservant, Lucas?’ Agnes enquired, conscious that Brown could probably hear every word.
A slight colour stained Sarah’s cheeks. ‘He’s your manservant, is he? Last I saw he was in the kitchen being fed up by the kitchen hand. She seemed to think he needed feeding up, to judge by the food on his plate. I must say, he’s got all the girls atwitter and he’s barely had time to take off his boots.’
Agnes forced a smile. ‘He’s trouble, that one,’ she said. ‘But I could hardly ride through England alone and he seemed a good, strong lad.’
‘Aye, he’s that, right enough,’ Sarah agreed, rather too readily, Agnes thought. ‘I’ll leave ye now. If ye need anything, get ‘im out there to earn his bed and board,’ Sarah jerked her head at the door behind which Trooper Brown had retired.
‘Can you tell Lucas to come and fetch my boots? They need cleaning.’
Sarah held out her hand. ‘I’ll take ‘em for ye.’
Agnes shook her head. ‘Thank you, but I need to speak sternly with Lucas. I can’t have him flirting with every maidservant in the castle.’
Sarah closed the door behind her, and Agnes caught a glimpse of Trooper Brown picking his teeth. She could do nothing while he stood by the door with his orders. Subject to the whims of Leah Turner and her brother, Agnes lay down on the bed. Whatever restrictions she had to endure, she would do so for the children. She would be good and biddable to whatever Tobias and the hateful Leah wanted. Her fingers tightened on the chainof her locket. She would do whatever it took just to be with the children again.
Chapter 32
