Page 43 of Exile's Return
Her heels clicked on the wooden floor and the door creaked open.
‘I will see you in the morning. Good night, Daniel,’ she said.
As the door closed behind her, Daniel lay awake staring up at the panelled ceiling of the bed.So many broken lives, Agnes had said, and he was coming to see how much the affairs of men had impacted the lives of their women.
He thought of his mother and sister, forced to eke out an existence in a few rooms of a ruined house; of Agnes, who had nothing and no one; and Lady Longley, who had been forced to be mother and father to children, who would not recognise their father if he walked through the door.
And what had been the cause of all this misery? The stubborn pride of a little man who called himself King had brought England to civil war.
At that traitorous thought, he closed his eyes and turned his thoughts instead to that man’s son, who had also suffered through his father’s hubris. Charles reigned over a shadow court in a country that did not want him when his own throne waited for him here in England. There would never be peace until a king sat once more upon his throne in England and he, Daniel, still had a part to play in bringing the world back to rights.
Chapter 18
Leaving Daniel, Agnes found Eleanor Longley in the nursery, engrossed in a game of spillikins with a boy of about seven. A younger boy of Henry’s age, still in skirts, seemed to be hell-bent on disturbing the game, while the nursery maid was singularly failing in the task of quieting a small girl of a similar age to the younger boy.
Agnes took the unhappy child in her arms.
‘Now then, little maid, what ails you?’
‘Teeth,’ said the harassed nursery maid.
‘Ah, teeth are nothing but a trial from the very beginning. Now, what is your name?’
The child stopped crying long enough to gulp out, ‘Clare.’
‘Clare, show me where it hurts.’
Clare opened wide and Agnes could see the red, swollen gum. She inserted her finger and rubbed the sore spot, swaying in the instinctive dance of all mothers. Clare’s sobs reduced togulps and she snuggled against Agnes, two pudgy fingers in her mouth.
‘You have a good way with children.’ Lady Longley rose to her feet.
‘I love children.’ Agnes looked down at the fair head against her shoulder and brushed the silken strands out of the child’s eyes.
‘This is my son, Charles,’ Lady Longley put her hand on the shoulder of the older boy. ‘Charles, this is Mistress Fletcher.’
The boy swept her a courtly bow.
‘These two,’ Lady Longley indicated the two younger children, ‘are twins. Richard and Clare. They are Jon and Kate’s children. You have met Tabitha, Jon’s daughter, and Thomas, Kate’s son by her first marriage, and my eldest child, Ann.’
Agnes smiled and shook her head. ‘This is a very complicated family.’
Lady Longley nodded. ‘Both Jonathan and Kate had other lives before they met. Kate’s first husband, Tom’s father, died at Marston Moor, and Jonathan only discovered Tabitha a few years ago. She is his natural child.’
A child of passion born out of wedlock?Agnes wondered and her gaze rested on Richard. ‘My sister’s child, Henry, is Richard’s age. I cared for him since he was born.’
‘You must miss him.’
Every moment of every day, with a pain that threatens to break my heart.
‘Very much. And you, Lady Longley?’
Her companion pulled a face. ‘Please, call me Nell. No one calls me Lady Longley. What about me? My home is in the possession of a poxy Roundhead. My husband, Giles, is with the King in the Low Country, where he has been for twelve years now with only occasional fleeting visits.’ Lady Longley’sface saddened. ‘I have not seen him in eight years, but by all accounts, he does not want for company.’
Agnes caught her meaning in the sad twist of her mouth. She glanced down at Charles, who had turned to spin a top for his younger cousins.
‘So he’s not met his son?’
Nell shook her head. ‘I had hoped Giles, like Jon, would make his peace and return before this, but I think he prefers his life on the Continent to that of domesticity with a wife and children.’
