“What happened then?” asked a boy. “How did he escape?”
Colin glanced toward Kendra, but she was smiling back down at her handiwork. “Yes, Colin,” she said to a misshapen embroidered flower. “What happened then?”
“Hmmph,” he said, wishing she were close enough to kick her. “The brothers were afraid the Roundheads would return when they couldn’t find Charles elsewhere, so they moved him to another house, a few miles away. They had to find him a horse to ride there, because he couldn’t walk that far on his aching feet. The boots, remember?”
Nine little heads nodded.
“He hid in a priest-hole in that house, and he was very cramped and uncomfortable in there.”
“Because he’s so tall,” said little Mary.
“Exactly. Charles needed to get to Bristol to catch a ship and escape England,” he continued, “but he couldn’t travel in the farmer’s clothes, since farmers don’t often take to the roads. So they dressed him as a manservant and found a loyal woman named Lady Jane to ride behind him on a horse, posing as his employer. He decided to call himself William Jackson, and they made up a story that they were on their way to a wedding.”
“Whose wedding?” Mary asked.
A smothered laugh came from Kendra.
Colin’s mind raced. His gaze swept the chamber. “Lord Cornice and Lady Chimneypiece.”
He would swear Kendra was choking. Not that she didn’t deserve to.
He cleared his throat. “Charles and Lady Jane playacted all the way to Bristol. One day Charles’s horse cast a shoe, and as he held the mare’s foot for the blacksmith, he asked the man if there was any news since the battle.”
Mary’s blue eyes were round as saucers. “What did the man say?”
“He told Charles that some of the Royalists had been found and arrested, but not yet Charles Stuart. The Roundheads called the king by the name of Stuart.”
“Then the blacksmith was a Roundhead,” Davis surmised. “Wasn’t Charles afraid to talk to him?”
“Not Charles. But Lady Jane, she was having a fright. And what do you suppose our good king said then?”
“What?” the children chorused.
“He told the smith, ‘If that rogue Charles Stuart is taken, he deserves to be hanged, more than all the rest.’”
“He didn’t,” Davis breathed.
“He surely did. Charles enjoyed his jest, but Lady Jane nearly expired on the spot.”
“I don’t blame her,” said the dark-haired girl. “Not at all.”
“Me, neither,” Kendra put in with a raised brow. “That prank brings to mind one of my brothers.”
“Let me finish,” Colin scolded. “Lady Jane breathed more easily when the shoeing was done and they could be on their way. But at Bristol they were disappointed. For a whole month, there was no ship sailing to France or Spain. So Charles had to hide about the countryside again until they finally found a ship that could take him to France. The ship was named the Surprise, but it’s now called the Royal Escape.”
He stood. “And that is the end of the story. Time for bed, children. We’ve a long trip back to London in the morning.” He flexed his shoulders and stretched.
Applause came from the doorway behind him. He turned to see his brothers, faces and clothing black with the soot of London’s fire.
“Welcome back!” Kendra sprang up to greet them, her embroidery landing unceremoniously on the floor. She hugged them each in turn. “How did you like our storyteller?”
“Watch your gown; we’re both sorely in need of a bath,” Jason admonished. He aimed an exaggerated nod toward Colin. “I would have liked to attend the Cornice–Chimneypiece wedding. Pity that we were too young.”
“Colin certainly rose to the occasion,” Kendra said. “I all but forced him into it—in a sisterly way, of course.” When Colin snorted at that, she flashed him an innocent smile. “Whatever made you think of that particular story?”
“Do you not remember? We must have heard Charles tell it a hundred times on the Continent. It was all but our nightly entertainment.” He looked to Jason. “You brought Ebony with you, I’m hoping?”
“We’re both fine,” Jason drawled. “Thank you so much for asking.” He turned to Ford. “So nice of him to inquire after us before thinking of his horse.”
Ford shrugged. “It’s not as though we’ve spent three days battling flames, exposing ourselves to the dangers of falling walls and debris—”
“No, nothing like that,” Jason agreed. “Nothing that would compare to the hazards of telling a bedtime story.”
“Oh, that’s not all he’s been doing. You don’t know the half of it.” Kendra rolled her eyes toward where Amy slept upstairs, and Colin moved closer, intending to elbow her in the ribs.
With a laugh, she dodged out of his way. “We’ll see the children to bed. You two go clean up, and we’ll meet you back here with some supper.”
SIXTEEN
AMY WOKE to the sound of low voices nearby. She kept her eyes shut tight—she had no intention of letting anyone know she was conscious just yet—but even so, she could tell from the color inside her lids that morning had arrived.
Finally.
Several times during the interminable night, she’d awakened and floated to the surface of awareness, first hearing the soft crackling from the fireplace, then feeling the persistent burning in her right palm. And then she’d remember—and immediately force herself back into the depths of slumber. Back to where it was last week, and she wasn’t alone in the world, and her only worry was her upcoming nuptials.
Once, she’d sensed a presence in the chamber and slitted her eyes open, peeking through her lids to see Colin watching her, his profile dark against the light of the flickering fire. She’d shut her eyes and lain perfectly still, feigning sleep until he left. He’d sighed heavily before closing the door behind him.
What kind of sigh had it been? she’d wondered vaguely as she lapsed back to her troubled dreams. A sigh of concern, or a sigh of exasperation?
He certainly seemed to be exasperated now.
“I need this deuced
