chosen by her, tired of living in a noisy, crowded house, tired of never having anything to call her own. Besides — ' Juliana took the baked pie out of the oven and allowed herself a moment to admire its golden, turned-back pastry. She kept the man in suspense deliberately. 'Besides, his faults are neither here nor there for Anne: she misses him.'
She gazed across the fidget pie at Gideon Jukes. He looked straight back — though had a visible temptation to scrutinise the gorgeous pie. He had a way of looking at Juliana as if they had been best friends for thirty years. There was approval in it, and certainty that they agreed with one another on all that was important. It gave Juliana a disconcerting tightness in her chest.
He was just an overgrown City of London apprentice, all cheeky eyes and an unwarranted opinion of his own worth. If she left him alone in the kitchen, he would cut the pie open and steal a slice, then pocket another and walk off whistling…
He was smiling very slightly. He knew everything she thought.
When Anne and Lambert walked in, they both saw it: Gideon was enjoying himself.
Chapter Sixty-Three — Lewisham: 1650
Anne and Lambert were reconciled. They drove off back to London together in Ben Lucock's cart, after a parting between Anne and Juliana which was tearful on both sides.
Before that, however, they had all enjoyed a luncheon where the mood was as happy as the food was resplendent. Lambert overcame self-consciousness by joshing Gideon; Juliana watched how Gideon accepted it. Lambert now needed to have a strong place in the family. Gideon relaxed from being his brother's stern organiser and good-humouredly allowed himself to be subordinate.
He watched her too. Gideon's instincts were entirely masculine.
He sensed it was a long time since she had entertained company. The boys, Tom seated on a barrel and Val on his mother's lap, due to the lack of chairs, were clearly unused to gatherings. Gideon thought that although Mistress Juliana Lovell enjoyed this little party, she was feeling a tug of melancholy. No doubt she was missing absent friends; that would be her husband in particular.
Lambert went out to the cart and returned with a wine bottle; even his brother had not known it was hidden there. French wines were illegal. But a master grocer could always obtain them, of course.
Juliana went into her parlour for decorated beakers she had brought away from Colchester; she did not own wineglasses. Gideon followed to help carry them. He saw her work table and her needlework everywhere. He noticed too, a long shelf full of her father's books. 'May I look at what you have?' She stood watching as he examined them eagerly; she noticed that he always checked in the frontispiece for the printer's name, though he was interested in the subjects — and knowledgeable. 'A First Folio Shakespeare!'
'When I am next in want of money, it will have to be sold,' Juliana admitted quietly. She was on her knees, counting out the beakers from the back of a cupboard. Anne Jukes had paid for the feast today. The folio would already have been given up, but Lewisham to London was probably five miles in a straight line; Royalists were not supposed to go so far from home and Juliana would not risk visiting the booksellers at St Paul's Churchyard until a trip to London was absolutely necessary.
'Offer it to me first! — Do you read these books?'
'I can read!' Juliana exclaimed haughtily. 'Yes, I read them, when I have time.' To prove it, she hauled herself to her feet, took the Shakespeare in her arms, found a place and read to him. It was from The Tempest, a speech of the courtier Gonzalo:
'Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,
And were the king on't, what would I do?
In the Commonwealth I would by contraries
Execute all things. For no kind of traffic
Would I admit; no name of magistrate;
Letters should not be known; riches, poverty,
And use of service, none; contract, succession,
Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none;
No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil;
No occupation; all men idle, all;
And women too, but innocent and pure;
No sovereignty…
All things in common nature should produce
Without sweat or endeavour; treason, felony,
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,
Would I not have; But nature should bring forth,
Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.
Well, sir. You have fought for ideal government. What think you?'
'A Utopia!' Gideon had noticed her father's Thomas More, his Plato, his Cicero, St Augustine, Bacon and Rabelais. (He had also seen a seventy-years-old Nuremburg almanac, in German, and shared a wince with her over it; Juliana prayed he did not guess it was plunder her husband had brought her.) 'I could listen to you reading it for many hours,' said the tall man, smiling and acting like a suitor. Juliana chose to think the lechery was a pose — though she was not entirely sure. Neither was Gideon.
'Beware, sir! It is from a play'
For two pins Gideon would have admitted to this woman that he had acted in a masque once. 'Aye, the theatre is the devil's cockpit.'
Juliana laughed. 'Yes, I am aware of that. Such an attraction, is it not?'
From the other room, Lambert was bellowing for them to hurry with the cups. As Gideon came to take the heavy book from her and replace it, Juliana felt suddenly convinced he would trap her against the cupboard and kiss her. Indeed, the only reason Gideon did not, was that he felt so startled at how much he wanted to.
'Still, you are one of the New Model Army Saints, Captain Jukes, and if you ever saw a play you would forfeit your safe position in the new Millennium,' Juliana burbled, ushering him back to the kitchen.
'Madam,' Gideon rebuked her lazily, 'you are thinking of the Fifth Monarchists. Crazily deluded fellows. These people say the King's execution heralds a thousand years of Christ's personal rule upon the earth. One of the rascals told me that greed and power will be replaced by brotherly love! This, of course, is impossible heresy.. '
Lambert had uncorked the wine. He shared it out, even giving small amounts to the excited children, while Anne filled up their cups with cold water. It was Gideon who asked Juliana quietly, 'Do you object?'
'My grandmother was French, Captain Jukes! I should object only if my boys were given wine from Italy or Portugal.'
So they batted humour lightly between them, as if they were laying on an entertainment formally for Anne and Lambert.
'Gideon and I do know a Ranter,' Lambert boasted.
'Do we?' asked Gideon, in some surprise.
'Major William Rainborough,' Lambert answered, lowering his voice, 'the brother of our poor murdered colonel. He paid for the pamphlet by one Laurence Clarkson, the Ranters' creed. It is all filthiness,' he informed Juliana furtively. 'They believe God is in every man, therefore all scripture is false and even the Bible cannot be the Word of God. They say there is no sin; sin was invented by the rulers of the earth to keep the poor in order. Therefore, anything is permitted!'
'Anything?' chuckled Juliana, raising her eyebrows. 'I have a good idea what that entails — and it is more than fidget pie!'
'Anything a man wants!' muttered Anne. 'With second helpings on the plate… To facilitate their freedoms, they throw off their clothes and run about the streets surprising people.'
