again.
Lost in his thoughts, he did not see the shadow lurking behind a huge oak tree at the edge of the graveyard, nor did he see the expression of hatred on the man’s face.
‘You killed her, James Colby,’ the man said out loud as he watched him walk away. ‘You were responsible for her death—and because of that I shall kill you one day soon...’
Chapter One
Babette was in the orchard, pulling ripe plums, when she caught sight of a small party of horsemen riding towards her uncle’s house. Calling to her cousin, Angelina, and their servant, Jonas, to follow, she picked up her basket and walked hastily through the orchard to the kitchen gardens of the modest manor house. She’d seen the figures outlined against the ridge of the hill some distance away and was not sure whether the soldiers were Royalist or Parliament men.
‘Aunt Minnie,’ she cried, ‘there is a party of horsemen riding fast towards us. I do not know whether they be Cavaliers or rebels. Where is my uncle?’
‘Sir Matthew has gone down to the long field. They are cutting the wheat today. Had you forgot?’
In her haste to return and warn her family, Babette had completely forgotten that her uncle had decided to set the men to cutting his wheat. Because Sir Matthew Graham had not chosen to fight when King Charles set up his standard, some of his neighbours suspected him of being for Parliament and the Royalists amongst them eyed the family suspiciously when they attended church.
It was everywhere the same in a country torn by civil war. The quarrel betwixt King Charles and his Parliament had blown up suddenly the previous year, seemingly out of nowhere, except that Aunt Minnie’s second cousin, Henry Crawford—who was close to his Majesty—said that the trouble had been brewing beneath the surface for a long time. When the King tried to arrest five members of Parliament only to discover the men he considered traitors had been warned and fled, he decided that only a war could bring these unruly men to heel.
‘Whatever shall we do?’ Babette’s aunt asked, looking flustered. She wiped her hands on her apron. ‘Should we lock the doors against them or welcome them as friends?’
‘It depends who they are and what they want,’ Babette said, though in truth she was not sure which side her uncle would choose if forced to take sides. Babette knew her own heart, but for the moment she kept her silence. ‘I think Jonas should go to my uncle with all speed and tell him that visitors are on their way.’
Aunt Minnie agreed and Jonas was told to saddle the old grey cob, which was the only horse not already in use in the fields, and ride to alert his master.
‘Will they kill us all, Mama?’ Angelina asked, looking frightened.
‘God have mercy, child! I hope not,’ Lady Graham replied, but her face was pale, and she looked at her only daughter anxiously. ‘We must lock all the doors, Babette. Maria! Alert the other servants. Close all the doors and windows. We shall not open them until Sir Matthew comes home to tell us what to do.’
Babette hurriedly locked and barred the kitchen door. Three ladies alone in the house, apart from a few female servants, could not be too careful and all the men were in the fields.
Her heart was beating rapidly as she went through the house, checking windows and doors. For herself Babette hoped that the visitors would be Cavaliers and be able to give them news of how the war went for King Charles. She had no doubts where her loyalty lay. Her beloved father would have offered his sword to the King had he not died of a virulent fever the previous winter.
Lord Harvey had been failing since his beloved wife’s death three years previously, followed a year later by the disappearance of his son, John. John, who was now Lord Harvey—unless already dead—had left the house in a rage, having quarrelled with his father over a young woman.
Since the young woman in question had also disappeared that same night it was presumed that they had run off together. John did not know of his father’s death because no one had any idea of his whereabouts to let him know the sad news.
Babette had cried herself to sleep on many nights, wondering if the brother she’d adored still lived. Alone in the castle, she’d written tearfully to her mother’s sister and been invited to come and stay with her aunt and uncle for as long as she wished.
They were a kindly couple, though Babette thought her uncle rather sombre at times. Aunt Minnie seemed a little in awe of him, always reluctant to speak on any subject unless Sir Matthew had made his feelings known. They had one son, Robert, who was presently away at college.
Robert was studying with a view to entering the church. His father had a living in his gift and would bestow it on his son when the present incumbent retired in a year or so, once Robert had taken his vows. Angelina was but fourteen, three years and some months younger than Babette.
The castle of Haverston was currently being held for the King by the Earl of Carlton, a distant cousin of Babette’s father. His Majesty had appointed him custodian of Lord Harvey’s estate and Babette’s own fortune, until she came of age and it was established whether John was alive or dead.
Babette had come to her aunt because she was lonely, but glancing down into the courtyard as a party of some fifteen or twenty men rode in, her heart caught. In that moment she almost wished she was safe in the castle, but then scolded herself for being a coward. They were but men after all, even though she thought, from their dress, they were too sober to be Cavaliers. A man in a dark coat and grey breeches seemed to be at their head, but he was wearing a hat with a wide brim and she was unable to see his face.
Having ensured that all the windows and doors were shut, Babette ran quickly down the stairs as someone knocked at the door. The knocking was loud and insistent, reverberating through the house. The servants had huddled together looking scared, and Aunt Minnie was holding Angelina’s hand. Babette saw that her cousin was crying and went to her, putting an arm about her shoulder.
‘They will not harm you,’ she whispered. ‘I dare say they have come for food and supplies.’
‘Open this door in the name of Parliament,’ a stern voice said. ‘I had not expected this from Sir Matthew Graham. We come to ask for help, not as an enemy.’
Aunt Minnie’s brow creased, a puzzled look in her eyes. ‘I think I know that voice,’ she said doubtfully. ‘It may be your uncle’s second cousin on his mother’s side...Sir James Colby...’
‘Should I ask him what he wants of us?’
Babette’s aunt hesitated, but Babette did not wait. Going to the door, she called out in a loud voice, asking their visitor to give his name and state his business.
‘We barred our doors, for we did not know who you were, sir,’ she said. ‘We are a house of women and dare not admit strangers in such fearful times.’
‘Is that Lady Graham?’
‘No, her niece, Mistress Harvey.’
‘I am second cousin to Sir Matthew—and I come in friendship. My name is James Colby.’
‘Open the door,’ Aunt Minnie said, looking relieved. ‘Sir James may enter, but his men must remain outside until my husband returns.’
Babette lifted the bar cautiously, peeping round the door. Her first glimpse was of a tall, commanding figure. The stranger had removed his hat, and she could see that he was dark-haired with eyes of grey, a firm hard chin and a mouth that at this moment looked stern and angry.
‘My aunt says she will admit you, sir, but your men must remain outside until my uncle returns.’
‘They are tired and weary from the road, lady,’ Sir James said with a sigh, his eyes narrowed and his manner harsh. ‘It seems that this is Royalist territory, but I thought we would receive a better welcome from my cousin’s house.’
Babette pushed a lock of pale hair back beneath the modest cap she was wearing. Despite his expression, she