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She bustled to the warehouse, and Alys came into the kitchen. “Uncle Ned!” she hugged him and then stepped back to scrutinizehis face, the weary slope of his shoulders, the dust from the road on his clothes. “Are you safe? Were you with William of Orange’s army?”
“Yes. We’re disbanding, except for the regular troops, who are going to control the city.”
“Thank God they’re here at last. They put out a fire in Savoury Dock that could have ripped all through here. Is William come without a shot being fired?”
“Invited by the lords, and welcomed by the people,” Ned said. “It’s done. God be praised. It’s done again. We have a leader who is here by consent, not by birth. One that will consult with the people and not tyrannize over us.”
She shook her head. “I never thought I’d see it come all around again.”
“Me neither. I never thought I’d outlive the Stuarts.”
“You always kept the faith,” she conceded. “You never faltered. Has the king really gone? William did not take him?”
“He made sure he did not! Last thing he wanted was to keep James Stuart in England. Besides, the old king had no stomach for it. He’s fled to France after his wife. They’ll get help there, but I doubt they’ll ever get back.”
“She was here,” Alys told him quietly. “The Nobildonna brought her again. Through the city, past all the riots. Captain Shore got her away, God bless him, he’s not yet back. But we would’ve heard if they’d been caught at sea, wouldn’t we? Abel will be safe?”
“They won’t be caught at sea,” he said, smiling. “William of Orange is no fool. He doesn’t want her or the king hanging around the palaces, arguing that they should still be on the throne, and people feeling regret, the baby in her arms and a royal christening. William wants them wasting their time and money in France, safely out of the way. If anyone met with theSweet Hope, they’ll have turned a blind eye.”
“And no one will accuse Captain Shore? It’s my fault she came here, and it was me that begged him to take them away.”
Ned sat down heavily on one of the kitchen chairs. “No, lass. Never fear. No one is going to accuse Captain Shore,” he said. “He’s done us all a favor. William is not looking for enemies, he’s made a parliamentfrom the old royalists and the new men, he marched under a banner of liberty, he didn’t claim the throne until James ran away and left it empty. He didn’t even claim it by conquest, it was the English lords who offered it to him. He’s not going to persecute a loyal sea captain from a little wharf. He’s blind to his enemies these first months, he won’t see such as us.”
“So you’ve won,” she said wonderingly. “In the end you won, without a shot being fired.”
“It’s been a long battle,” he agreed. “But at last we’ve got a fair man on the throne. We’ve got a king who will rule with parliament, according to the law of the land. A man can’t be arrested on another’s say-so, a woman cannot be snatched from her own field. We’ve not won against slavery, nor against greed; the rich are still more powerful than the poor. Not all men and women are equal before the law. It’s not yet time to beat our swords into plowshares, and our spears into pruning hooks; sit every man under his vine and under his fig tree, and be not afraid. There is still injustice and cruelty. There’s still greed. The struggle goes on.”
“Will it ever end?” she asked him. “The struggle against the overmighty?”
“Only when we choose it,” he told her. “That’s what I believe now. I’ve seen my country choose a godly Commonwealth, and I’ve seen us choose a king, and now I’ve seen us choose a king to rule alongside parliament. We can think right, we can do right. And when we choose liberty, and justice for all, we will have it.”
FAIRMERE PRIORY, SUSSEX, SUMMER 1689
The three girls—Hester, Mia, and Gabrielle—were in the rose garden with a dish of flour, laughing at the preparations for seeing their future husbands on Midsummer Eve. Gabrielle alone was taking the ritual seriously: she had Alinor’s receipt book, and she was reading instructions to the others, who were capering in the eerie light of the longest day, as Matthew came out of the house with the flour all over his face making him ghostlike and a kitchen broom in his hand making whooping noises.
“Shush! Shush!” Hester begged them. “If my mama looks out of her bedroom window and sees us up this late, she’ll come down and send us to bed and we’ll never know who we are to marry.”
“We’ll never know anyway,” Mia said reasonably. “You don’t seriously think that this is going to work? That you’re going to see the name of the man you will marry written in a plate of wheat flour?”
“Grandmother Alinor said…”
“She said that it was for fun, not foretelling.”
“What’s that noise?” Gabrielle asked.
“Did you hear a ghostly scream?” Mia laughed. “I did! I’m sure I did!”
Matthew listened. “Is that horses?”
“The headless horseman!” Mia cried out.
Hester gasped. “I know there’s no such thing.”
“Listen,” Matthew said. “I can hear real horses. Coming up the drive.”
Gabrielle was still holding the bowl of flour and the plate for the fortune-telling, Matthew still carrying the broom, as they made their way to the front of the house. A hired carriage was before the door, the roof piled with luggage.
“Wipe your face,” Gabrielle warned Matthew, and he fell back and rubbed the flour from his face onto his sleeve.
