There was a moment of silence, and she risked a quick peep
through her eyelashes. He was looking down at her speculatively. "I won't
argue with you on that score," he said.
"Then why did you stay and watch?" Ginny demanded.
"You looked monstrously amused."
"
I
was not amused," Alex protested, lying down again beside her. "I had
thought to keep an eye on young Diccon. He is somewhat inexperienced, and,
while I am all in favor of his losing his innocence, I would prefer that he not
lose his shirt in addition."
"I saw you put him to bed," Ginny said softly.
"
It pleases me that the stern,
implacable commander should concern himself with the health and well-being of
those under his command." Her eyelids closed on this, a faint smile curved
her lips, and with a little wriggle she snuggled against him and slept.
When she awoke, it was full day, and she was alone in the
colonel's bed. Ginny stretched luxuriously and wondered why she had been
allowed to sleep this long. Not even the call of the bugle and the summoning of
the drum had penetrated her sleep. Blinking, she sat up and looked around the
room she had only seen in the dark. It was sparsely furnished, but a jug and
basin stood on a low table by the window, and her clothes were laid out for her
on the end of the bed. At least she would not have to leave the colonel's
chamber clad only in her nightgown.
Somewhat to her surprise, Ginny found that she felt
remarkably well, not a whit fatigued after such a disturbed night, but she had
not far to look for the reason behind
this
sense of physical well-being, and, at the memory, a slight flush stained her
cheeks. Such shameless wantonness from the gently bred daughter of John
Redfern! But it did not appear to disturb Alex, in the least —
q
uite the opposite. With a little chuckle, she slid to
the floor, raised her arms to embrace the new day, reveling in the soft air on
her bare skin before pouring water into the basin and sponging herself down
thoroughly. The bath in Newbury seemed a long time ago, she reflected, and
another one should be contrived soon. It would be nice, also, to be able to
wear something other than her riding habit. Maybe, if they were to stay for a
few days in London, she could do so.
In spite of her bravado on the subject with Alex, Ginny felt
slightly self-conscious as she left his chamber and was greatly relieved to
find the corridor empty. Gathering
up
her skirts, she ran lightly down the stairs, making her way to the rear of the
erstwhile inn where she presumed the kitchen would be found. Kitchens meant
breakfast, and Ginn
y
was ravenous.
She found the low-ceiling room with its blackened beams with
little difficulty and, pausing on the threshold, was hard pressed to hide a
smug smile. The men grouped around the long, scrubbed deal table were in
various degrees of distress; haggard and drawn, they flopped in heavy-eyed
silence. They were, without exception, the younger officers though. No one
above the rank of lieutenant seemed to be suffering.
"
Good
morrow, gentlemen," Ginny said brightly. "You all look to me as if
you have lost a shilling and found a groat. I expect you did not have enough
sleep last night.
"
Her eye fell on Diccon who looked as
if he were about to expire. "Does your head pain you, Diccon?" she
inquired, and when he attempted to nod, then groaned, wincing at the renewed
thumps of agony, she went upstairs to fetch her medicine basket.
When she reentered the kitchen, she found Alex, Major Bonha
m
, three captains, and Colonels Richards and Chambers.
None of them appeared the worse for wear; presumably they had better heads than
the younger ones or had behaved with more circumspection.
Ginny greeted them politely, trying to keep her gaze from
lingering on Alex, as she shook drops from a tiny vial into a tin cup, mixed a
little fine white powder to a paste with water, added the paste to the cup,
stirred and placed it in front of Diccon.
"What is it?" he groaned, wrinkling his nose at the
far from pleasant aroma.
"Kill or cure," Ginny said cheerfully.
"
If you can keep it down, you will
feel better in no time. You may think yourself fortunate it is only a bad head
you have, and not a case of the pox after last night's whoring.”
Alex roared with laughter, and after a startled instant,
those not in pain joined in. "I suppose you have a cure for that,
also?"
"If it is not too far advanced," Ginny replied
seriously. "An infusion of aloes and —
Y
ou
are laughing at
m
e," she accused. "It is no
laughing matter, as you would know if you have ever—"
"This is a most indelicate subject," Alex
interrupted hastily before he was obliged to reveal any intimate details before
the assembled company. "When you have finished ministering to these
sore-headed profligates, we will set off for Whitehall. Diccon, I am sorry, but
you ride with us." On that note of reasserted authority, he left the
kitchen.
"Poor Diccon," Ginny said sympathetically.
"Why do you not ask him if you can stay behind?"
A look of horror crossed the lieutenant's wan face. "And
not go to Whitehall?" With desperate resolve, he took the tin cup and
tipped the contents down his throat, watched with beleaguered interest by his
fellow sufferers. Ginny surveyed him anxiously as the green tinge of his complexion
deepened and his red eyes seemed to glaze. "Poison!" he choked,
putting a hand to his mouth.
"Wait!" Ginny said imperatively. "You must
keep it down."
An intent silence fell over the room as they all watched with
gruesome fascination Diccon's struggles. After two or three minutes, his face
cleared miraculously. "I do not think I shall puke after all," he
announced.
"Good," Ginny declared with satisfaction.
"Then you will be almost better directly. Not that you deserve to
be," she added severely.
"
Do
not scold him, further, Mistress Courtney," Colonel Richards requested
with a tiny smile. "I think he has suffered enough, do you not?"
"I daresay." Ginny returned the smile easily and
turned to the imperative business of finding her own breakfast.
Half an hour later, they were on the road, Colonel Marshall,
Lieutenant Maulfrey, Captain Baldwin of the colonel's brigade, Jed, and
Parliament's ward.
Ginny could not control her excitement even as she told
herself that a Royalist should not rejoice in the prospect of
entering rebel-held London when its monarch rested a
captive in Carisbrooke Castle. She gazed ahead, her eyes straining for the
first sight of London Bridge, and told herself that for the first time since
her odyssey began she could truly relax. She and Alex were at peace, each wi
th
the other, and, for the moment, there was no bone of
contention waiting to rise up between them. There was nothing a Cavalier could
do to aid the king's cause in this, the center of Parliament's power. For now,
she was not in contravention of any direct order and had no intention of being
so. There was no reason under the summer sun why
'
there should not be perfect harmony between the lovers, their inherent
enmity vanquished in the eye of the hurricane.
Chapter 14
London Bridge, with its rows of houses and jutting cutwaters,
was a wondrous sight for the girl who had never left the south coast of
England. How could a bridge be so long, so strong that it could span the wide
river, yet carry upon it an entire village? There were stores and street
vendors, and her eyes grew ever wider at the variety of goods on display. As
the travelers passed, mercers stood in doorways calling, "What do you
lack?" and rolling out bolts of material for inspection. War had brought shortages
and near starvation to the rest of the country, but London town seemed to have
suffered no diminution in the supply of luxuries, let alone of necessities. It
did not lack dirt, either, and Ginny wrinkled her nose at the stench produced
by horse thing, rotting vegetables, and rags suppurating in the gutters under
the heat of the summer sun. The city seemed shrouded under a choking, greasy
canopy of smoke, and she covered her mouth and nostrils with her kerchief,
looking at Alex for explanation.
"Sea-coal," he told her. "There is not enough
wood in the city to burn, so they use coal instead. You will become accustomed
to it." Ginny seriously doubted that but decided she had best ignore the
villainous smell as well as she could if it were not to affect her pleasure in
her first visit to the capital.
The Tower loomed gray and menacing on the far bank, and Ginny
searched with unabashed curiosity for the iron portcullis at water level that
marked Traitors' Gate. She shivered at the thought of all those who had made the
final journey by barge along the river, disembarked at the green-slime-caked
step where the river water slopped unceasingly, to be received by the governor
of the Tower and escorted through the gate from which no one left.
On leaving London Bridge, they turned left and traveled along
the north bank of the Thames. Alex regarded Gunny
'
s wide-eyed wonder with a little smile and made no attempt to hurry
their progress. When they came to a crowd, cheering and shouting in Temple
Gardens and she looked at him for permission to go and see what was amusing
them, he readily agreed but stayed where he was as Ginny and an equally
delighted Diccon pushed through the crowd. They were back very quickly,
however, Diccon clearly under protest to judge by his martyred air, Ginny
looking dismayed
.
"I have never before seen a bearbaiting," she said
in reply to Alex's question. "It is quite appallingly cruel.
''
Alex frowned.
"
Parliament
has forbidden such sport in the city," he said. "Together with most
of the other public
s
pectacles. That bearbaiting will not
continue for much
l
onger once the militia hear of it
.
"
Ginny took small comfort from this. The sight of the wounded
animal, tied to a stake, struggling to keep at bay the half-dozen hounds who
snapped and tore at him, even as his great paws smashed their spines and ripped
their flesh,
a
ad sickened her, and it was quite
some time before her
.m
erest in the novelty of her
surroundings revived.
They arrived at the Palace of Whitehall by mid afternoon,
passing through the guarded gate into an inner courtyard where all was military
bustle. Such surroundings were becoming very familiar, Ginny reflected,
watching the orderly drilling of a squad of troopers, the swift, decisive
stride of an officer on important business, listening to the hail of a
s
entry, the crisply bellowed orders that the recipients
seemed to understand although, to Ginny, the words bore little resemblance to
the language as she knew it.
Alex identified himself to the guards at the massive iron and
steel doors giving entrance to the palace, and after a few minutes a captain
came out, saluted smartly, and told Alex that the commander-in-chief was in
session with his staff and Colonel Marshall, together with his officers, was
bidden to join them immediately.
Where did that leave Parliament's ward, Ginny wondered. Again
a familiar situation, cooling her heels while the colonel went about his
business. Alex's lips twitched as he read her expression correctly.
"
Come too," he said, lifting her
off Jen.
"
You may wait in the antechamber until
I have met with Cromwell. Jed will keep you company."
Whitehall resembled an army headquarters more than a palace,
Ginny reflected, as they hurried behind the captain down long corridors
stripped of their hangings and resounding with the tread of booted feet. She
and Jed were left in a small, unfurnished antechamber while the others
disappeared behind a heavy oak door, and Ginny paced restlessly, tapping her
crop against her boots as she wandered between the small, dia
m
ond-paned window and the door, where she stood,
pressing her ear against it. Unfortunately, it was too thick to afford much
satisfaction for the eavesdropper, and Jed eventually told her in the tones of
a privileged retainer to come away and learn a little patience.
At long last, the door opened and Alex emerged, beaming,
looking for all the world as if he had just been told he had come into a
fortune. His two companions were not much less delighted.
"Well?" Ginny demanded.
"
What has caused you to resemble the
cat with the cream?"
"Later," he said. "Jed, will you escort
Mistress Courtney to the Blue Boar on Market Street? Bespeak a decent privy
chamber; I've a mind to be comfortable tonight. Ensure that Mistress Courtney
has all she needs for her comfort and remain in the inn until I come."
Taking Ginny by the arm, he drew her to one side, saying quietly, "I will
come to you shortly, chicken. There are one or two matters I must attend to.
Later we dine here with Cromwell."