Page 76 of Exile's Return
A beam of sunlight forced its way through the dusty panes of the small window, illuminating Agnes’s face. Daniel resisted the urge to kiss the tip of her nose, with its dusting of freckles.
He took a step toward the door. ‘I’ll leave you now. That Turner woman does not wish me paying court on you, so I may find my way barred next time.’
‘But I am not a prisoner, at least, so they tell me,’ Agnes said.
Daniel glanced at the door. ‘I’m not sure I am prepared to argue with Trooper Brown on that point. He’s twice my size.’
The smile faded from Agnes’s face. ‘They are keeping me from the children. To be so close…’
This time he broke his self-imposed rule, cupping her face in his left hand and stroking her cheek with his thumb. He expected her to push him away but she leaned into him, resting her forehead on his chest. With a supreme effort, he dropped his hand and stepped back.
‘This will take a little patience,’ he said. ‘I’d better go and find Old Peg before Jon and Kit arrive on her doorstep.’
‘Daniel,’ she said as he turned to go. ‘No dallying with the kitchen maids.’
He smiled at the guilty memory of the buxom girl and turned back to look at her. ‘Got to look convincing, Agnes.’
‘Just not too convincing,’ she said with a smile.
***
Daniel stowed Agnes’s boots and petticoats with his few possessions in the corner of the kitchen to which he had been directed. He had no fears of his bag being searched. It contained nothing but clean linen and a battered Bible he had bought from a stall in Preston. They would also find a small pistol, but that should excite no comment. These were dangerous times and he would be a fool to travel without a weapon to defend himself and his mistress. He carried only a knife strapped in a sheath against his chest. He fiddled with his belt, missing his sword’s comforting presence.
Conscious of the urgent need to seek out Peg Truscott, he returned to the stables, where a sullen stable boy indicated the horses. Daniel saddled the gelding and led it out into the cold, late afternoon. Glancing up at the lowering clouds, he shivered. It would be dark within the hour.
‘Goin’ back out?’ the stable boy inquired.
‘This ‘un showed signs of lameness on the ride here,’ Daniel replied. ‘Thought I’d just put ‘im through his paces again before dark.’
He led the horse out through the gate, waiting until he was out of sight of the castle before mounting up and turning north, following Agnes’s directions. One mile out of the village, in a heavily wooded valley, he found the narrow path by the fallen oak. It wound among the trees, crossed a brook, and led to a low, single-room cottage in a glade. The cleared ground had been turned over to different plants, most of which were no more than twigs in the late autumn chill.
A wreath of smoke rose from the chimney, and as he dismounted the door opened and an elderly woman leaning on a stick came out to meet him.
She looked up at him with faded blue eyes that held more curiosity than fear.
‘Are you Peg Truscott?’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘What’s your business?’ she demanded.
‘I bring a message from Agnes Fletcher,’ he said.
The woman’s eyes widened. ‘Agnes? Is she back?’
‘She’s at the castle,’ Daniel began warily.
The woman nodded. ‘If ye’re a friend of Agnes’s, you’d best come in, young man.’
He ducked his head to enter the cottage, blinking to allow his eyes to adjust to the gloom. The little room smelled of herbs and baked bread. He looked around, taking in the simple cot, the table with four stools arranged around it and an old, battered wooden chest that stood against one wall. The only other furniture was two solid chairs furnished with cushions, standing on the rush mat before the hearth.
A low peat fire burned in the hearth before which laid an old dog of indeterminate breed. It raised its head and looked in Daniel’s direction with milky eyes, emitting a low growl.
Daniel hunched down beside the animal, scratching its ears. The dog closed its eyes, its tail beating a crescendo of delight at the unexpected attention.
‘What’s his name?’ he asked.
‘Hername is Bonny because she were such a bonny pup when I found her.’
‘Not a pup anymore,’ Daniel said.
