Page 33 of Twin Flames
York, present day
George’s wife, Joanna, exited the penthouse of the luxury apartment building which overlooked the river. She reached the elevator, pressed the button and then turned to blow a kiss to the handsome man in the doorway.
CHAPTER 10
Outskirts of York, 1536
Madame Alicia was sympathetic to George and Cara’s predicament and keen to offer them her hospitality.
‘So, you mean the soldiers are searching for you all over the city?’
‘Yes, we believe so,’ said George. ‘Posters declare there is one thousand pound on our heads, dead or alive. Who knows who else has the reward in their sights, and is in hot pursuit? I would like to assure you, Madame; we are innocent of the charges brought against us by the council. We, like so many in these dangerous days, are victims of political intrigue and have fallen from favour following the beheading of Anne Boleyn.
We find ourselves unexpectedly on the wrong side of the king. The quicker we get out of your home, the better it will be for all of us. We have no wish to endanger you and your household. I have high hopes we will be restored to our former position in the good graces of the king, as soon as he examines the evidence. I fear he was misinformed, and we have been misrepresented by the enemies of the queen, God rest her soul.’
Madame Alicia fashioned herself in an exotic style but was an indigenous product of the Yorkshire dales. She was born during the reign of Henry Tudor and raised on campfire tales of the Wars of the Roses, and came from a family of enthusiastic House of York supporters.
‘Whatever you need; simply ask. My humble home and resources are at your disposal, my lord. We never know what evil tidings the king’s soldiers will wreak upon us next. I have no loyalty to them. Some are decent enough individuals who frequent my ladies, but as an army, they are cold-hearted rogues. And I’m tired of the endless taxes and the constant disagreements between the northern lords and the king.’
They stood clustered together in the sitting room of her private wing, and she spoke in a loud whisper. Everyone knew, speaking ill of the king and his government was to endanger one’s life. A few misplaced words were sufficient to be charged with treason, so by collaborating with Cara and George, the risk was considerable. Even here in her establishment, miles from London, one couldn’t be sure who was a Tudor informer. ‘The walls have ears,’ was a sensible tenet to live by in Tudor England if you wished to increase your odds of survival.
‘Could you possibly lend us a carriage? I’ll endeavour to have it returned to you as soon as we’ve reached our destination. It’s safer for us all if I don’t tell you where we’re going, but if you trust my word, I swear I’ll see you are reimbursed with interest. If we can’t get the carriage back to you in the condition we take it; I’ll have one of my men purchase a replacement and see that you are well rewarded for your generosity.’
‘Think nothing of it. I’m honoured to help, and I accept your kind offer, my lord. I have a carriage in the stable below which you can take. If anyone notices it’s missing or reports a sighting of it on the way into the city, I’ll say it must have been stolen.’
‘Brilliant idea. Thank you. We’re most grateful,’ said George.
‘Madame Alicia,’ said Cara, ‘I think we’d be wise to disguise ourselves, or I fear we’ll be recognised in an instant. Our faces line the trees on the road to the city. What could you offer us in terms of clothing and wigs?’
Madame Alicia pursed her lips as she pondered, ‘Yes, I concur. I do believe I have just the costume for you, my lady. It will be a bit more challenging to disguise my lord,but I have a blonde wig which I think will be perfect for you. We can disguise you as a Parisian noblewoman, and if you are questioned, you can say you’ve come from King Francis’ court. The French are unpopular in these parts, but you’ll be safer than travelling without a disguise.’ She bustled off to peruse the delights of her wardrobe, excited at the prospect of a good dress up.
George, Cara and Swifty sped along the last portion of the Great North Road and prepared to enter the city in the newly acquired carriage.
‘Let’s hope being conspicuous serves our cause in that we’re so obvious; they will think we must surely be innocent! It’s such an elegant carriage, there’s no chance of us passing undetected,’ said George.
‘Swifty?’
‘Yes, my lord?’
‘If anyone speaks to you, act dumb. We’ll say you’re a mute from birth if necessary.’
‘If you say so, my lord, but why do you wish me to be silent?’
‘Because, after hearing your terrible attempt at impersonating a French lad, we’ll have more chance of saving our necks that way. If they hear you, they’ll know us immediately for the imposters we are.’
Swifty looked dejected, and his small shoulders slumped.
Cara smiled. ‘Never mind, Swifty; think of silence as a gift. . . you’ll have it easier than us. We’ll have to put on a ludicrous French accent and pretend we’ve come from the Valois court.’ Her blonde wig bounced upon her head as she talked. The colour suited her; the golden curls accentuated her high cheekbones, and the contrast with her sparkling, grey eyes was striking. Madame Alicia had painted a sizeable brown beauty spot above Cara’s lip, and she looked every bit the chic Parisian. She suspected Madame might have taken it a little further than required, but Cara hadn’t wanted to spoil her fun.
George cut a flamboyant figure in a burgundy and gold tunic, lavish lace undershirt, pointed beard and a full moustache. They’d styled his hair in the latest Parisian fashion, and the coiffed effect was ostentatious. Compared to his usual understated elegance, he looked quite the dandy. Madame Alicia had said she’d heard this fashion was all the rage in France. Cara caught his eye and winked, struggling to hide her giggles at his obvious discomfort.
‘I feel quite ridiculous,’ he complained. ‘You may well laugh. You, of course, look stunning, while I look like a first-class fool with all of this pomp. My face itches as though an entire army of ants marched across it and back again continuously throughout the night.’
His nature was typically so amiable that Cara was amused when he was grumpy, and found his outburst particularly endearing.
‘Uh-oh, we have company,’ said George, craning his neck out of the side of the carriage as they hurtled along the bumpy road towards the entrance to the city. ‘Soldiers ahead. There’s a checkpoint. Let the games begin. Pray, we may fool them with our sheer ridiculousness.’ His tone was playful—he saw no need to increase the tension.
‘Bonjour,’ George addressed the soldier who poked his head inside the carriage. ‘How may we help you?’ He said in his most exaggerated French accent.
