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and outcrops of rock. 'It seems strange to see so few sheep,' Cathie
commented.
John scowled. 'We have the Roundheads to thank for that!'
They rode on in silence. The wind was keen up here on the open
moor, where there was little shelter. The sheep kept to the gullies,
their backs to the wind, moving slowly from one patch of grass to
another. It was the lambing season. Down in the valley pens had
been erected to shelter the ewes, many of whom had already
dropped their lambs; but there were pathetically few of them com-
pared with other years. Cathie tried not to think about it, but it was
difficult not to do so.
A glance at John showed that his expression was forbidding.
'Damned Roundheads!' he exclaimed forcefully. 'I'd like to see
every one of them thrown into that bottomless Pit they are always
preaching about!'
'John! They are not all cast in the same mould! You said yourself
how thoughtful General Fairfax was; and Captain Denham '
It was the wrong thing to say, as she realised at once. He turned a
furious face upon her.
'Captain Denham is as bad as the rest of them! Lying upstairs,
pampered like an honoured guest, while he knows perfectly well his
precious General Fairfax has taken our livelihood away! I tell you,
Cathie, he is laughing up his sleeve at us. And I'll tell you something
else if he knows what is good for him, he'll leave here as soon as he
is able to straddle a horse or take the consequences!'
66 CROMWELL'S CAPTAIN
'What do you mean?'
'Never you mind! Let's go back.'
Before she could question him again, he spurred his horse away
from her, thudding over the ground.
She sat there for a moment as though turned to stone. Then, with
a sudden little shiver of foreboding, she turned her horse and
followed him.
CHAPTER
SIX
MARY had learned from Adam that Captain Denham had left his
bed. While John and Cathie were riding on the moor, she went
upstairs to see him, conscious of a feeling of guilt which stemmed
from the fact that since Adam's arrival she had barely bothered to go
into his room.
Everything was a strain for her now, and she felt both mentally
and physically tired. If her calculations were correct, her baby was
due at the beginning of April, in about five weeks' time. Betsy had
spoken of getting out the wooden cradle and preparing it in readi-
ness with the little blankets and other things, but Mary had put the
matter aside. James was of more importance to her than her unborn
child. She carried his letter inside the bodice of her gown, a talisman
against evil; just as she had once carried his love-letters in the days
before their marriage.
Denham stood up when she entered, moving stiffly and with
obvious effort.
'Sir, you must take care!' she protested.
'I do not think I shall come to any harm,' he replied, smiling; and
taking her hand, led her over to the chair he had just vacated, seating
himself on the padded stool Adam brought over to the fire.
Mary sat down thankfully, albeit with a feeling that he had more
need of a back-rest than she. When she attempted to tell him so,
however, he waved her words aside.
'I shall be quite comfortable here. Would you care for a buffet for
your feet? Adam will fetch you one from downstairs.'
At a nod from him Adam departed, returning shortly with a
footstool for her. She placed her feet upon it and slowly relaxed,
feeling, for the first time for weeks, comforted and protected.
She had never conversed with Denham for more than a few
minutes at a time before; now she discovered how easy he was to talk
to. He had a warm, receptive manner. While conscious of his charm,
she was nevertheless aware of an underlying candour and strength of
purpose in him. Before she knew quite how it had come about, she
68 CROMWELL'S CAPTAIN
found herself confiding some of her troubles to him regarding the
estate, finding him to be a sympathetic listener.
It was hard, he said gently, for a woman to be left as she had been
to cope with everything single-handed.
'I do have John to help me,' she said. 'He does his best, but '
She left the rest of the sentence unspoken, with a rueful smile.
'He is young yet,' he said quietly. .
They both fell silent, looking into the fire. The logs hissed, and
there was a scent of apple-wood.
'Lady Gifford,' he said hesitantly, 'would you consider it amiss of
me to offer my help to you while I am here? I know something of the
running of an estate.' He told her of his home, explaining that he had
taken much of the responsibility of it upon his own shoulders as his
father was not physically strong. 'Fortunately we have a capable
steward, so he is able to cope while I am away. If you would let me
advise you, I should be only too glad. I know very well I owe my life
to you, and to all who have looked after me with such care. This
will in some measure repay that debt.'
'I I don't know ' she said uncertainly.
'Think it over. I could at least take some of the burden from your [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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