ammunition, lacking support from the Scots, and completely overwhelmed. It was thought that Edmund Treves had died below the castle during the last courageous struggle, when cover was being provided for the King's dramatic escape through the one city gate that remained open. True details of Treves's fate would never be known.
His sister railed bitterly in her letter about the waste of his life. He had spent the ten years when he could be called an adult fighting for the royal cause. He never finished university, never married nor had children. His family had barely seen him. When he finally went home in 1649, his mother was so ill she took no pleasure from his presence. She died, two years later, just before Edmund answered the call and went west to join Charles IFs army as it marched down from Scotland to the Midlands. At least his mother never knew he was killed, though Juliana thought Alice Treves may have guessed what would happen.
Juliana herself was seriously depressed by losing him. His honest heart and unchanging affection had always given her comfort. He was her only real link to Lovell.
She had scanned the list of Royalists killed at Worcester, just in case, but found no Colonel Lovell named. A year later, in September 1652, came the hurricane. The following March she read that Prince Rupert had returned to France, depleted in spirit though more glamorous than ever: tall, handsome, honed, dark, weather-beaten, fashionably morose and tragic. He had lost eleven ships, including his brother's Defiance. Now thirty-three, Rupert had an exotic household of richly liveried Negro servants, parrots and monkeys — and exotic debts to match. Juliana would have liked to imagine Lovell in the same state, but she could not do it.
It seemed reasonable to suppose that any of Rupert's men who had families in England would, on returning to France, communicate with them. If no word came, presumably the man was dead. Juliana still heard nothing from Lovell, so had to face this thought. She hardly dared to address a letter to Prince Rupert and she knew no other Royalists from whom she could beg for news. Lovell congenitally managed without friends. Edmund Treves was the only one she ever knew him to have.
She presumed Lovell drowned with Prince Maurice. She became haunted by bad dreams in which the man she had married, and believed she loved, was a lost soul who spun helplessly in surging waves, caught up amidst a tangle of ropes, perhaps wounded by a fallen spar, until his strength failed and he drifted in the merciless cold water.. She did not know if Orlando could even swim. She had heard that drowning was better — quicker and easier — for those who could not.
If this was what had happened, Juliana pitied Orlando and genuinely grieved. The only other alternative was bitter for her: that whatever had befallen him, he had now deliberately chosen to abandon his wife and children.
It happened. It had happened throughout history. However, Juliana knew there was a long tradition in European folklore of soldiers who had been away for decades returning unexpectedly to startled wives who barely recognised them.. Losses like hers were in fact so frequent, the situation was recognised by Parliament in compassionate legislation. Juliana discovered this, during her visit to the lawyer.
Mr Impey inhabited a ramshackle first-storey chamber above Middle Temple Lane. He was of lizard-like appearance, completely bald, with a great nose and deep-cut lines to a receding chin. At first he appeared to have no idea who she was or what she wanted, but Juliana patiently accepted that lawyers were overwhelmed by the volume of business they had to remember (only privately thinking, the man was an idiot; the clerk had written his reminder, but Impey had himself signed it, and only last Wednesday…).
Once he recalled her circumstances, Impey became all kindness. He reminisced of Mr Gadd, so tellingly he caused Juliana to wipe away tears on the lace-edged handkerchief that she carried on formal occasions. To remedy her sadness, a glass of shrub was produced. Its bottle was kept handy on a long shelf, among the unused parchment. An opener hung on a piece of string Mr Impey could reach from his desk chair. Weeping women must be a regular hazard.
Juliana apologised for whimpering, swallowed a good slug of shrub — then belatedly remembered that shrub was composed by putting two quarts of brandy to the juice and peel of five lemons, with nutmeg, a pound and half of sugar and added white wine. It might seem like harmless sweet cordial for distressed ladies, but they needed to be ladies with hard heads. It had a kick like a dyspeptic dray-horse. The good thing was that by the time you realised how strong it was, you didn't care.
Mr Impey knuckled down to business. Mr Gadd had had two extremely elderly sisters to whom he bequeathed legacies, sufficient to see them kept in comfort for their remaining years. He left a large amount to charities, mostly in Somerset. 'You were his ward, I understand. He regarded you with immense affection.' Further touched, Juliana had more recourse to shrub. 'He has bequeathed you a London property.'
Without waiting to see how Juliana took it, Mr Impey poured her more shrub. Dispensing joy brought him so much satisfaction, he prepared a tot for himself too. It went without saying, the drinking vessels used by Middle Temple lawyers were gilded glass, of great beauty and considerable age. They were not small. A gift from a grateful client, Mr Impey hinted flagrantly. Juliana nodded non-committally.
'The house has been empty for a year — because we received no instructions from you as to tenanting — ' He could have apologised for not actually asking her wishes, but did not wish recriminations to spoil the cheerful ambience. 'The shop was let until three weeks ago, when the tenant died — nothing infectious, I believe — and the premises have been cleared. A new tenant can be found as soon as convenient — '
'Let me think about that!' Bolstered by shrub, Juliana hardly needed to think. She had enough haberdashery, collected from Colchester, to start a shop herself.
Mr Impey delved in a drawer of his magnificent desk, managing to conceal an uneaten pie and a pair of holed stockings. After much huffing, he produced a large doorkey. 'There!'
Juliana did not immediately take it but asked him, 'As a married woman, I assume this property will belong to my husband?'
Abdiel Impey never gave an answer until he had ascertained full circumstances. Young wives who visited the Temple without their husbands were usually married to scamps; besides, Mr Gadd had left him private instructions which mentioned certain suspicions of Orlando Lovell. Mr Impey leaned forwards and posed potent questions. He learned from Juliana that Lovell, now a Delinquent colonel, had gone overseas several years ago and had not been heard of since. Apart from one letter I received in late 1649, though it was written earlier… I believed he sailed with Prince Maurice of the Palatine, supposed now to be lost in a tempest at sea.'
Gulping more shrub, Mr Impey made an expansive gesture that knocked law reports and almanacs to the floor. 'Count him dead, ma'am! Call the bounder defunct! Are you hoping to take a lover? You may do it with impunity'
'Oh I cannot countenance adultery!' fluttered Juliana, with the heat of one who had once considered it extremely keenly. She too wished she had gone more slowly with the shrub. In fact, from that or some other cause, she was feeling slightly sick.
'Rush to it, my dear.'
'But the penalty is death!' Juliana knew adultery was a felony; both guilty parties would be condemned to death, death without benefit of clergy.
'Not in your case!'
Mr Impey took down from a shelf the Act of 10 May 1650 for suppressing the detestable sins of Incest, Adultery and Fornication. It showed signs of frequent use. 'There are not one but two provisos, for the preservation of persons in your position: one! 'Provided, That this shall not extend to any man. who, at the time of such Offence committed, is not knowing that such woman with whom such Offence is committed, is then married.' Many of my masculine clients have felt much relieved by that! 'Oh no, sir! I had absolutely no idea!' And two! 'Proviso: Provided, That the said penalty in case of Adultery shall not extend to any woman whose Husband shall be continually remaining beyond the Seas by the space of three years' — the Rumpers discussed five in committee, but they are charitable men — 'or shall by common fame be reputed to be dead; nor to any woman whose husband shall absent himself from his said wife by the space of three years together, so as the said wife shall not know her said husband to be living within that time'!
'No one has informed me that Orlando is dead,' faltered Juliana.
'Pish! He was in Prince Maurice's ship; the common fame says it sank and vanished. Besides, you have not had a line from him for four years. Lamentable lady, this could be written just for you. You can lie gladly with your lover.'
'Oh, I do not have a lover!' Juliana believed Gideon Jukes was just a bothersome complication. She put him out of her mind. Generally.
