extent of the property that now falls to my care. Or the state in which I find it. I could wish, for the most selfish of reasons, that my brother James had lived to take on the inheritance.’
Sir William nodded. There was nothing to say. He took a contemplative draught of the ale, his thoughtful gaze resting on the lady in question at the far side of the Hall. ‘Poor girl,’ he muttered as if to himself.
‘Why do you say that?’ Mansell realised that it might be in his interests to hear Sir William’s more knowledgeable assessment of the match.
‘Did you know your cousin at all?’ The rough brows rose in exaggerated query.
‘Not really.’
‘I thought not or you would not ask. I would not wish to speak ill of the dead, and certainly not on the day of his burial. But let me just say this—Edward had few friends to respect or mourn him, as is obvious from the paltry turn-out here. Local unrest would not normally keep friends and neighbours away from a good funeral! And his merits as a sensitive and caring husband for a young girl? Well, all I can say is that Denham must have been out of his mind—should never have allowed it.’
Francis watched Lady Mansell as she eased an elderly lady to her feet from a settle by the fire and restored her stick to her gnarled hand. His lips thinned a little in sudden distaste. So his own thoughts on the marriage were confirmed. Poor girl indeed.
‘It will be difficult for you to enjoy your gains in the circumstances, my boy, although we are quieter here than many areas,’ Sir William continued, interrupting his younger relative’s thoughts, sure of his subject now. ‘Most of the families hereabouts are loyal to the King or have the sense to keep their mouths shut and their doubts to themselves. Connections between families are still strong—much intermarriage has strengthened family ties over the centuries of course. Your own family has close connections with many apart from us at Croft Castle. The Scudamores, of course. The Pyes, the Kyrles of Walford—none of them here, you notice. And the Rudhalls—the son was at the church earlier but—ah, yes, there he is by the screen, looking as if he has lost his best hunter as usual. You will have noticed that the Coningsbys did not put in an appearance?’
‘I had. Is there a reason? Your knowledge of my family intricacies is much greater than mine.’
‘No marriage connections with the Coningsbys, of course—but a deadly feud between Fitzwilliam Coningsby and Edward going back many years; I have forgotten the details. But a lot of history there. You might find that you inherit it along with the property. You might want to watch your back, my boy.’
‘I am sure I shall soon discover. But tell me, Sir William, how did my cousin’s loyalties lie in present politics?’
‘Royalist, of course. Hereford is well under the command of Coningsby as Governor in the city. He and I muster the trained bands as required. There has been little unrest so far. The nearest Parliamentary garrison is Gloucester under Colonel Massey and that is too far away to be much of a threat in everyday matters. So we organise affairs to our own liking with little interference from those self-serving blackguards such as John Pym in London.’
Mansell took a deep breath. It really would not be politic to remain silent longer on such a crucial issue, however difficult the outcome. His eyes held Sir William’s in a forthright stare. ‘Perhaps I should tell you clearly, Sir William. My own sympathies lie with Parliament. I cannot in all conscience support a man such as Charles Stuart who would bleed his country dry, ignore the advice of Parliament—or even its very existence—and would have used the Catholic Irish to invade and subjugate his own people. I am not a Royalist—and nor would I be content to keep my mouth shut and my head down, as you put it. I will speak up for my beliefs, and act on them if necessary.’
Silence. As sharp as the honed blade at Sir William’s side.
Sir William took another gulp of ale. ‘Well, my boy.’ He eyed Mansell quizzically, perhaps a hint of respect in his fierce eyes under their grizzled brows. ‘That will put the hunting cat amongst the local pigeons. I like a man who knows his own mind and is not afraid to state it. But are you sure? I had never expected your father’s son to speak such treason. And neither would he! He will be turning in his grave to hear you!’
Mansell laughed, but harshly, and the bitterness did not escape Sir William. ‘Oh, yes. I am sure. Will this situation—your family connection with a traitor—make matters uncomfortable for you?’
‘Yes. It will. No point in beating about the bush. My wife will expect me to welcome you for the sake of your father and mother. My political associates will damn you as spawn of the Devil. So what am I expected to do?’ Sir William finished the ale and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he contemplated the future. The lines of authority and experience around his eyes deepened as he weighed the situation. Mansell simply waited for him to come to a most personal decision, hoping that he had not totally alienated this proud but honest man. He was not disappointed.
‘I will try not to forget what I owe to family. Or the strength of historical connection. I owe that to your family and mine. But I never dreamed … Did your father know of your … your political inclination before he died?’
‘Yes, he did. And although he could not support me—he remained true to the Stuart cause until the end—he did not try to dissuade me. But our relationship was not easy in the months before he died.’ Mansell’s eyes were bleak as he remembered the pain and disillusion which had marked his father’s last days.
‘Well, then. It has indeed been a day of revelation.’ Sir William hesitated a moment. ‘It could put you in a dangerous position, you realise.’
‘How so? I am hardly a threat to my neighbours, outnumbered as I am.’
‘So it would seem. But a Parliamentarian stronghold such as this in a Royalist enclave? A severe weakness, many would say, particularly as some of your neighbours might believe that your potential influence is now too great, given your fortunate increase in wealth and property. Some might decide that it would be best policy to divest you of some of that influence. Permanently!’ He showed his teeth without humour. ‘Some such as Fitzwilliam Coningsby!’
‘You are surely not thinking of a physical assault, are you?’ Mansell did not know whether to laugh at the prospect or to be horrified.
‘I hope not. But put your mind to your other properties. It would do well for you to see to their security before word of this gets out. As it most assuredly will.’
‘And you would give me that time, Sir William?’
‘I could. For the sake of family, you understand. But don’t expect too much of me. I am not enamoured of the work of Mr Pym and his rabble of supporters who would oust the rightful monarch—and replace him with what? God only knows. It would put all our lives and property in danger if we allowed such a thing to happen. Yours too, my lord.’
‘Now is not the time for such a discussion. But I am grateful for your advice and tolerance, Sir William. I hope that I can repay it.’ His features were softened a little by a genuine smile. ‘And not put you into too great a difficulty with Lady Croft.’
Sir William grunted, turning to collect his cloak and hat from the chest against the wall. ‘I must be going. What will Lady Mansell do now?’
‘I have no idea. Although I expect that she is more than well provided for. I presume, given the wardship, that she has no family to return to.’
Sir William shook his head. ‘These are not good times for young women, particularly wealthy ones, to exert their independence.’
‘I am aware. That, Sir William, is the next problem for me to consider.’
‘I wish you good fortune. And if you will take my advice, you will mention your allegiance towards Parliament to no one, at least not until you are certain that you can hold your property. I would hate you to lose it before you have taken possession!’ He laced his cloak and pulled his hat low on his brow. ‘Take care, my boy. Take care.’ Sir William clapped Mansell