Intrigued (40 page)
“That isn’t the point!” Autumn said angrily. “The king should at least compensate Mama for her loss. Remember, my father died at Dunbar for the Royal Stuarts. And who is this Duke of Garwood who was loyal to Cromwell and yet is allowed to retain stolen property?”
“He was a double agent for the king during the wars, and afterwards,” the Earl of Southwood said to her. “They say it was he who exposed the traitors in the Sealed Knot Society.”
“He was the one?” Charlie exclaimed. “I should like to shake his hand for ferreting out that dastard, Sir Richard Willys. How did he manage it? It had to be dangerous work.”
“He took the identity of his dead cousin, a boy raised with him from the time his parents—the mother was the previous duke’s sister—were lost at sea on their way back from Ireland. The two cousins were inseparable growing up and looked very much alike. The young gentleman died of a fever just as the war began. Everything was so confused then. Records weren’t kept or lost. Somewhere along the way the duke was able to take the identity of his dead cousin. It was given out that the duke himself had fled England with the Stuarts. His servants were incredibly loyal, and so the secret has been kept these past nine years. The king has publicly praised the duke’s loyalty and bravery.”
“It still doesn’t alter the fact that Greenwood is my mother’s house, given to her by Madame Skye,” Autumn said stubbornly.
“Sweeting, you are upset,” Charlie said gently. “You are tired and not seeing things clearly. You have no idea how terrible it was for the king these last years. He is a man who does not forget friendship or loyalty, Autumn.”
The door to the library opened. Lily hurried in, curtsying. “I’ve come to take you upstairs, my lady. The bath is being filled, and the cook says she will send you up a nice supper when we’re ready.”
“Go along, and get some rest, little sister,” Charlie said, and he kissed her on the forehead.
Autumn sighed. Then she curtsied to the Earl of Southwood. “Again, cousin, I thank you for your hospitality,” she told him.
“Call me Johnnie,” he told her. “Everyone does.” And he smiled. “Don’t let old Betts bully you either. He responds to arrogance, for some reason, so don’t be too kind to him.”
Autumn giggled and then, in Lily’s company, departed the library.
When the door had closed behind them Charlie said, “Shall we go to Whitehall now, Johnnie? While my immediate family likes to call me ‘the not-so-royal Stuart,’ my friends call me Charlie.”
The two men went off together, the young earl giving orders that Autumn’s coach and horses be stabled, and that her servants be well taken care of, else he be annoyed.
“It shall be as you ordered, my lord,” Betts answered his master, bowing servilely. “Shall I prepare an apartment for his grace?”
“His grace has apartments at Whitehall,” the earl replied loftily, and almost laughed at the look of awe on his majordomo’s face. But he managed to retain his composure long enough for he and Charlie to mount their horses and ride off.
“You don’t have a barge?” the duke asked his cousin, curious, for the house was located directly on the river.
“Too expensive to keep one anymore,” Johnnie said. “I prefer to ride, anyway, and there are always werrymen available.”
Autumn watched them go from the window in her day room. It would have been fun, she thought, to go to court, but she would not have been at her best tonight How her older brother managed to be so full of energy amazed her. She supposed it was the life he had led, going to court from his earliest childhood. He hardly seemed to need any sleep, she noticed. Autumn turned away from the window and entered her bedchamber, which overlooked the river. She recalled the stories she had been told of how her mother had arrived by barge from her ship when she had first come from India. She tried to imagine Jasmine coming up the showy lawns of the house next door and into Madame Skye’s arms. There was so much history in Greenwood. She had to get it back!
At Whitehall the Duke of Lundy went immediately to pay his respects to his cousin the king, kneeling before Charles II and kissing his outstretched hand. “I’ll go and make myself presentable shortly, your majesty, but I wanted to come to you first.”
“Get up, Charlie,” the king said. “Every time you kneel before me I remember who your father was, and that had he been wed to your mother, I should be kneeling to you,” chuckled Charles Stuart. “You remember George Villiers, and this is Gabriel Bainbridge, the Duke of Garwood. I know you haven’t met, but I think you should. He has been waiting for you to return to court so he might speak with you.”
The Duke of Lundy rose. “About Mama’s house, Greenwood?” he said. “I should warn you, sir, that I have brought my widowed sister up to London with me, and Autumn is very put out about Greenwood’s loss.”
“You’ve brought your sister to court?” the king said, sounding quite interested. “Is she as beautiful as the other ladies in your family, Charlie? Where is she?”
“Sheltering at Cousin Johnnie’s house next door, and quite annoyed, your majesty,” the Duke of Lundy said with a small smile. “She was tired, and we have been traveling several days from Queen’s Malvern.”
“A widow, you say?” the king questioned him.
“Aye. Mama took her to her chateau in France right after Bess was killed. She married a French nobleman who died suddenly five years ago, leaving Autumn with a small daughter. When your majesty was restored to his rightful place my mother and sister returned to England. She has been pining of late, and I thought that perhaps a visit to court might amuse her. She has never been there, as there was no court when she was finally old enough to come.”
“That’s right,” the king recalled. “Your mother surprised your father with a final child shortly after I was born, and they raised her in that Highland lair of theirs, Glenkirk, didn’t they?”
“I am amazed your majesty remembers such minutiae,” Charlie said.
“When she is rested bring her to court, Charlie. But now you and Gabriel must talk. It is important that you do,” the king told his cousin. “Go and find a quiet place now, remembering that you are a member of my family and in my presence.”
What a strange thing to have said, Charlie thought as he and the Duke of Garwood sought a quiet alcove where they might speak. When they had the two men stood awkardly for a moment, and then Gabriel Bainbridge began to speak.
“I do not know, my lord, how much you know of me,” he said.
“I know you were a double agent for his majesty,” Charlie replied, “and that you are responsible for exposing Sir Richard Wilys. I would shake your hand, sir!” Charlie held out his own.
“You may feel differently when you hear what I have to say, my lord. I shall wait until then to offer you my hand,” the Duke of Garwood told Charlie seriously. “You are aware that I impersonated my deceased cousin?”
“I am,” Charlie responded. “Your servants are to be commended for keeping the secret, my lord.”
Gabriel Bainbridge smiled faintly. “They are good people,” he said quietly. “Without their cooperation I should not have been able to pull it off at all.” He was a handsome man with dark blond hair and very deep blue eyes. The Duke of Lundy estimated his age at close to forty.
“Your wife must be proud,” he said.
“I have never married,” Gabriel Bainbridge answered him. “By the time I was ready to consider it, we were at war and all the young ladies had fled or were spouting Puritan nonsense.”
“I understand,” Charlie replied. “My sister left England for the same reason. Mama said there was no decent society where one might introduce a young lady to young gentlemen.”
“We are getting off the subject,” the Duke of Garwood said. “I must unburden myself to you, my lord, and I must ask your forgiveness.”
“We have never met,” Charlie retorted.
“The identity I took during the wars and the Protectorate was that of my cousin, Sir Simon Bates,” Gabriel Bainbridge said, and his body tightened, as if he was expecting Charlie Stuart to deliver him a great blow. He wouldn’t have blamed him if he had.
“God’s blood!”
the Duke of Lundy swore softly. He was stunned by the revelation, and wondered how long the king had known it. For a moment he was actually at a loss for words. This man had led the men who killed his Bess.
the Duke of Lundy swore softly. He was stunned by the revelation, and wondered how long the king had known it. For a moment he was actually at a loss for words. This man had led the men who killed his Bess.
“It should never have happened,” Gabriel Bainbridge said. “If I had entered the house first, it wouldn’t have.”
“Why didn’t you?” Charlie asked him softly.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know,” the Duke of Garwood said brokenly. “I was sent to take livestock, any horses I could find, and foodstuffs, for the troops. The men with me that day were not my own, most of whom were down with a flux of the bowels. I was given a troop of ill-disciplined scum, criminals and layabouts for the most part. Because I couldn’t trust them, because I couldn’t delegate authority to any of them, I had to reconnoiter myself. I was inspecting your stables and barns when I heard the shot. The troopers with me weren’t supposed to enter the house. When I had finished my scouting I had intended to tell whoever was there that I was taking supplies in the name of the Commonwealth. Then I was to give them a chit to be redeemed later, when peace had been restored.”
“Sir Simon Bates’s reputation was horrific,” Charlie said. “It is said he slaughtered the family of a Sir Gerald Crofts in Oxford.”
“There was no Sir Gerald Crofts, and Simon Bates’s reputation was manufactured by Cromwell’s people to instill fear into the hearts of any who heard he was coming their way,” Gabriel Bainbridge explained. “They did that with a dozen or so more of us. That way when the people in the district where we were sent to make a reconnaissance heard we were coming, they were more than likely to cooperate with us. I will admit it was a clever tactic.”
“Aye,” Charlie agreed quietly.
“Your wife shouldn’t have died, nor your servant, my lord. If that young girl had not killed the trooper who shot them herself, I surely would have. Jesu, she was brave!”
“My sister, Autumn,” Charlie said.
“Yes! Yes! That was her name, Lady Autumn Leslie,” the Duke of Garwood anwswered. Then his excitement faded and he grew serious once again. “My lord, I beg you to forgive me,” he said. “I know my sorrow and guilt cannot bring back your duchess, but if I could go back and give my life in place of hers, I would! It should not have happened!” And his eyes were filled with tears that began to flow down his handsome face. He knelt suddenly before Charlie, his head bowed.
The Duke of Lundy thought he had put the sorrow of his wife’s violent death behind him. He found now, faced with the man who was in part responsible for Bess’s demise, he wasn’t certain. He looked down at Gabriel Bainbridge and sighed. Damn Cromwell and his pocky Roundheads, his little sister’s favorite curse in those days came to his mind almost immediately. He sighed again. Bess was gone, and nothing was going to bring her back. This man kneeling before him wasn’t responsible for Oliver Cromwell and his ilk. He wasn’t responsible for the two civil wars or the years of the Protectorate. He wasn’t responsible for King Charles I’s murder. He had helped the Stuarts in his own way, risking his life in a dangerous game. Had he been caught, he would have been hanged or beheaded. But he hadn’t been caught, and he had exposed those who would have kept Charles II from returning and reclaiming his rightful place on England’s throne. He knew what Bess would have said and done in this instance. She had been a sensible, loving woman with a kind heart.
“I forgive you, Gabriel Bainbridge,” Charlie Stuart said quietly, and he raised the man to his feet again. “Now, sir, shake my hand.”
“Thank you, my lord,” his companion said, taking the outstretched hand in a firm grip. Their eyes met, and the Duke of Garwood saw the genuine pardon in the Duke of Lundy’s eyes. “Thank you,” he repeated.
“When you met Autumn,” Charlie said, “did you look like you do now, Gabriel Bainbridge?”
“Nay. My hair was cropped in Roundhead fashion, and my garments plain. I looked quite severe, I have been told.”
“Then let us not mention your deception to my sister,” Charlie said quietly. “Autumn will be quite aggravated to meet the man who now possesses Greenwood, but if she learns that you were Sir Simon Bates, there will be no living with her, I fear. I shall speak to my cousin the king about this as well. Come now, and let us reassure him that there is no bad blood between us. I know it was difficult for those of you in England these past years, but I can assure you that the king suffered far worse than any of us. I would not distress him.”
“Agreed,” the Duke of Garwood said, “and I also agree to your suggestion regarding your sister. She was hot-tempered then. I don’t expect she has changed, has she?”
Charles Frederick Stuart laughed aloud as they crossed the room back to the king. “Autumn is no less hot-tempered today than she was when you met her. Best you begin any acquaintance with her anew. It is unlikely she will ever have to know of your past.”
“It is settled, then?” the king said as they approached him.
“It is settled,” Charlie reassured him.
“Excellent! Now, cousin, bring your sister to court tomorrow so we may personally welcome her home to England,” the king said, and there was a definite gleam of interest in his amber eyes.
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