Текст книги "The Follies of the King"

Автор книги: Jean Plaidy

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It was never easy for the Queen to go anywhere without taking with her a

large company so it was fortunate that Adam was at this time in London and she could ride out as though merely taking the air.

The Bishop received her warmly. He was in disgrace with the King but the

Queen had never been unfriendly towards him. He was against the Despensers and none could be more so than she was. She believed that she could rely on Adam’s help.

He himself would have been in the Tower if it had not been that he was a

churchman and under the protection of Canterbury and York so she could be

sure of his sympathy.

‘My lord Bishop,’ she said, ‘I have matters of great moment to discuss with you. I need your help.’

‘My lady,’ replied the Bishop, ‘if it is in my power to give it, that help is yours.’

‘I can no longer endure the rule of the Despensers.’

‘My lady, you are not alone in your feelings. If it could be put to the country I’ll warrant there would be few who did not agree with you.’

‘It is time they went. The King should never have recalled them.’

‘Alas, he has done so.’

‘My lord Bishop, it is clear to me that if we rid ourselves of the Despensers before long they would be replaced― even as this young Hugh has replaced

Gaveston.’

The Bishop nodded in agreement.

‘It must not be allowed to happen, my lord Bishop,’ insisted the Queen.

‘My lady, can it be prevented?’

‘In one way. The King’s son and mine is growing fast.’

‘But a boy yet, my lady.’

‘Old enough to be crowned King. There have been others of his age.’

‘A Regency?’ asked the Bishop eagerly.

‘Chosen with care. My lord Bishop, what we talk of is of the utmost secrecy.

It is only because of the dire need that I would speak thus.’

‘I know it well, my lady. But these matters are in men’s minds and it is well that they be spoken of― among those who could have it in their hands to avoid disasters.’

‘Even so. I need your help, Bishop. There is a man in the Tower who has

sworn to stand with me.’

The Bishop raised his eyebrows and waited.

‘Roger de Mortimer.’

Adam nodded. ‘A strong man, indeed. He ruled the Marcher lands with his

uncle and he was as a king there they say.’

‘His uncle has perished in his prison. His nephew still lives.. He is young and vigorous. He would stand with us.’

‘You have tested him?’

The Queen smiled slowly: ‘Aye, my lord Bishop, I have tested him.’

‘Yes,’ said the Bishop, ‘a strong man. He could rouse the Marcher country.’

‘He must first escape.’

‘From the Tower! I’ll swear he is most rigorously guarded.’

‘He has friends.’

‘Who, my lady?’

‘The Sub-lieutenant, Gerard Alspaye.’

‘That is good. He could do much.’

‘My lord Bishop what could you do?’

‘Nothing from inside the Tower. Outside. I could have horses waiting at an agreed spot. I could have a boat waiting to take him across the river to that spot and another at the coast.’

‘And would you do this, my lord?’

‘I would do my best for you, my lady.’

‘I thank you with all my heart.’

‘If we can rid this country of its evil influences the whole of England will thank you with all their hearts.’

‘I can and will with the help of God and my very good friends.’

‘Then the first thing is to get Mortimer from the Tower. What will he do in France?’

‘Go to my brother. Let him know how I am held here. Get help from him. I

shall try to join him― if that is possible. But I must have my son Edward with me.’

‘I see. It would mean civil war.’

‘If the King can find any to stand with him.’

‘There will be some I doubt not. The Despensers will be there and mistake

not behind the pretty face is a wily mind.’

‘I know it well. But first we must free Mortimer. I pin my hopes on him. My lord Bishop I rely on you to provide what we shall need once Mortimer is free of the Tower.’

‘Let the rest be arranged from within and then we must be sure that we work together.’

‘God’s blessings on you, Bishop. You are a good friend to me and to your

country.’

With God’s help, my lady, I will serve you both until He sees fit to take me.’

She was satisfied. Her excitement was intense. All was going as she could

wish.

–――――――

There were whispered conversations in the darkness of the night. They were getting reckless. The need to be together obsessed them; as did the knowledge that soon they must be parted. Alspaye was getting anxious. It was possible to arrange these meetings but they must necessarily become increasingly

dangerous as suspicions must inevitably arise. It might be feasible one night, or even two, to leave a door unlocked, a corridor unguarded, to make guards sleepy with wine. But these occasions were becoming too frequent.

‘We must not jeopardize the plan,’ said Mortimer.

‘Indeed we must not,’ agreed Isabella, ‘but when you are in France we shall no longer be together.’

‘But you must follow me. You must use all your skill to do so.’

‘I shall. I shall. You may rely on me.’

They embraced passionately; they talked earnestly; and they continued to

meet.

Gerard de Alspaye was uneasy. What would happen to him, he wondered,

when such an important prisoner as Roger de Mortimer escaped from the

Tower? He would be blamed. His head would not be worth much he was sure.

There was only one course of action for him to pursue, said Isabella. When Mortimer went, he must go with him.

Alspaye’s spirits were considerably lightened at the prospect.

There were meetings with Adam outside. He had engaged the help of two

rich Londoners, John de Gisors, and Richard de Bettoyne, who would provide the boat which would take Mortimer and Alspaye across the river and the horses which could carry them to the coast. They would see that these were waiting ready at the appointed places. Speed was essential and the fugitives must get to France immediately, for it would be dangerous for them to linger in England for even one day longer than they need. As soon as the disappearance was discovered the hue and cry would follow and even Edward would realize the

danger of letting a man like Mortimer escape from his clutches.

‘Well, let it be soon,’ agreed the Queen, and she added that it was fortunate that summer had come.

Alspaye said: ‘On the night of the first of August the Tower guards always celebrate the feast of St Peter ad Vincula.’

‘On this occasion,’ Mortimer interrupted, ‘it should be a specially merry

feast. We must make sure that the wine flows freely.’

‘I shall put two notorious imbibers in charge of my lord,’ went on Alspaye,

‘and shall see that they are well supplied with liquor. I’ll warrant it will not be long before we have them in a drunken stupor. That will give us an opportunity to make our preparations.’

Many plans had been discussed and discarded and they had come to the

conclusion that the safest way was for Mortimer to escape by means of a rope ladder. He had, of course, to get out of his cell and although most of the guards would be drinking heavily there could be one or two abstainers and it was

logical to suppose that on such an occasion they would be especially alert.

Mortimer’s dungeon was next to the kitchens and from these it was possible to get out onto a roof of an inner ward. This was where the rope ladder would come in. For several weeks Mortimer with the help of Alspaye had managed to loosen a portion of the stones in the wall. It was not difficult for Alspaye to say he wished to speak with the prisoner and dismiss the guards while he did so.

During the time they spent together the two men worked on the wall so that by the first of August it was a simple matter to lift out the stones which they had loosened and make a big enough hole for them to pass through.

They would then be in the kitchens where Alspaye must make sure that the

servants were either carousing with their guards or too drunk to notice what was happening. From the kitchens they could reach one of the inner wards and there it was that they would need the rope ladder to take them into the outer ward and they could from there make their way to that spot on the river where the London merchants, John de Gisors and Richard de Bettoyne, would have a boat waiting.

They had gone over the plan in their minds, looking for possible defects. To be discovered would mean certain death for Mortimer and Alspaye. But they

were determined they would succeed.

The Queen was perhaps the most anxious of the three. She had seen in

Mortimer her great hope. Moreover she was passionately in love with him and to have found a man who was not only her lover but her saviour seemed

miraculous to her.

She was terrified that something would happen to him.

The first of August dawned. She went along to the little church of St Peter ad Avincula on Tower Green and asked the saint’s help in this project.

During the morning Mortimer was allowed to walk in the garden and

Alspaye dismissed the guards with instructions to wait by the palings and while he and Mortimer walked they ran through the details once more.

The Queen joined them.

‘I know I should not have come,’ she said, ‘but I had to. After tonight it will be long ere I see you both.’

‘We must make sure that it is not too long,’ said Mortimer. ‘I shall be unable to endure it. I shall find some way to escape to France.’

‘It would be better if it did not appear to be an escape,’ said Mortimer. ‘If you could come on some pretext and bring young Edward with you.’

‘I will do it. I will do it.’

They clasped hands. It was the nearest to an embrace.

She was amazed and delighted by Mortimer’s calm. He was a man of action

and he could not help but be exhilarated at the prospect of escaping from

imprisonment even though it would mean a temporary separation from the

Queen. He had no doubts of the success of the venture.

Nor, when she was with him, had she.

They did not linger too long in the gardens. Alspaye escorted Mortimer back to his dungeon and in her apartments the Queen told her attendants that she wished to be alone. She was too tense for light conversation and she was afraid that her manner might betray something.

Throughout the Tower the festive spirit was apparent. St Peter ad Vincula

was a very special saint and the warders and guards told each other it was only right that on this day he should be honoured.

Dusk fell. Now was the time. There were sound of revelry throughout the

Tower. The Queen said she was pleased that the servants of the Tower should celebrate the occasion but she would retire early and rest.

She waited. Everything had been timed perfectly. She prayed that there

might be no hitch. Alspaye had seen that those guards in the vicinity of

Mortimer’s dungeon had been given a wine which was particularly potent; it had also been laced with some special herbs reputed to add to the soporific effect.

It would be soon now.

She visualized the scene in the dungeon. The guard at the door slumped on

the floor. Alspaye and Mortimer removing the stone, slipping quietly through to the kitchens. Would there be a hitch there? Suppose one of the cooks was not completely drunk? Oh, but they would be. They, like the guards, had had their wine specially treated.

How much they owed Alspaye! This could never have been arranged

without him. They had been clever. Help from within, help from without. It was certain to succeed.

Wrapping a concealing cloak about her she came out of her palace quarters

and made her way to the inner ward.

There was no sign of them. Her heart seemed as though it would fail her. If anything went wrong she felt she would die, for if Mortimer were caught trying to escape there would be no hope for him.

Oh what a fool Edward was to have imprisoned him in the first place! Oh,

but thank God for Edward’s folly! Anyone but Edward would have recognized

Mortimer’s superb qualities and never have let him live. Oh thank God again and again for Edward’s folly.

A sound behind her. A movement. There they were. Relief flooded over her.

Safe! The most difficult part accomplished.

They saw her and Mortimer ran towards her. He had her in his arms.

‘Oh, gentle Mortimer,’ she cried, ‘if I could but come with you.’

Alspaye said: ‘There is no time to lose. At any moment they could discover we have gone.’

‘Where is the ladder?’ said Mortimer.

It had been her task to bring that to them. She produced it and Alspaye threw it over the wall.

‘Now, my lord Mortimer, you go first.’

‘Let me hold it for you,’ said the Queen. ‘Good-bye, dear gentle Mortimer.’

One last embrace. ‘To France and our meeting,’ he said. ‘Pray God it be

soon.’

He was over. She looked down and saw him standing there safe on the other

side of the wall.

It was Alspaye’s turn. In a few seconds he was standing beside Mortimer.

She threw down the rope and returned to her apartments to await the discovery of the missing captives..

–――――――

It was not difficult to find their way to that spot where the boat was to be ready for them. The merchants had not failed them. It was there.

‘We have done it!’ cried Mortimer.

‘Not yet, my lord,’ replied Alspaye. ‘We have escaped from the Tower― no

mean feat, I agree. But we cannot boast of our success until we are safe in France.’

Indeed they had good friends. The horses were waiting for them– fresh and

ready for the journey, with seven men from Mortimer’s household attending

them.

This was indeed good fortune.

‘My lord,’ said Alspaye, ‘you have friends who love you dearly.’

‘Or mayhap hate the Despensers,’ replied Mortimer. They rode through the

night until they reached the coast of Hampshire.

Out at sea lay a ship. It was the one which would take them to France.

It was not difficult to hire a small boat.

Mortimer bade his men be cautious for by this time it might well be that his escape had been discovered and warning given to look out for anyone leaving for the Continent.

‘Tell them,’ he said, ‘that we want a small boat to go to the Isle of Wight.’

This was done, the boat procured and very soon it was skimming across the

water.

Mortimer boarded the big ship. The Captain who had been waiting for him

gave orders to sail as soon as the tide and winds were favourable.

Later that day Roger de Mortimer and Gerard de Alspaye landed in France.

As they drank wine in a riverside tavern and congratulated themselves on

their good fortune, Mortimer said: ‘We have come so far. Now the real work begins.’

THE QUEEN PLOTS

EDWARD was in Lancashire when a messenger arrived from London with

the news that Roger de Mortimer had escaped from the Tower.

A fury seized him. He realized at once that he should never have allowed

this to happen. Oh what a stupid thing to have done! To have allowed Mortimer to keep his head.

It was because dear Hugh had not been with him at the time of Mortimer’s

capture, and Mortimer had been in the Tower by the time Hugh was back. Hugh was so clever. He foresaw disaster. And now Mortimer was free!

Hugh came in to see him and was clearly perturbed by the news when he

heard it.

‘Never mind, sweet lord, we need not fear him. We shall stand against him

and all his Marcher barons.’

‘I know, Hugh, I know. But to think he was allowed to get away from the

Tower. What could have happened?’

‘The feast of St Peter ad Vincula was it? You know what these people are.

Give them a chance to carouse― and they forget their duty.’

‘Someone should answer for this.’

‘They will, dear lord, they will.’

When they learned something of how the escape had taken place they were

even more disturbed.

‘He could only have done it with help from within,’ declared Hugh.

‘Help from within and without!’ agreed the King. ‘It would appear we have

enemies.’

Hugh smiled sadly. Enemies! They surrounded him and they were the

King’s enemies because of him.

Never mind, the King was his very dear friend; he could not do enough for

his beloved Hugh. They were together through the days and nights and Hugh

and his father were becoming the richest men in England. It was so rewarding to have royal patronage and when that patronage grew out of a doting fondness then indeed a man was fortunate.

‘He will have gone to the Marcher country, I’ll swear,’ said Edward.

‘His home of course. That is where he will rally support.’

‘Let us plan a campaign to the Welsh coast. We’ll get him, Hugh, and this

time it will not be a dungeon in the Tower for him.’

‘He is a handsome man, that Mortimer,’ mused Hugh, ‘but I doubt he will be so handsome without his head.’

Meanwhile Mortimer, having landed safely in Normandy, was on his way to

Paris.

–――――――

By great good fortune Isabella’s involvement in the escape of Mortimer did not occur to her husband. There had been some in the Tower who had seen the meeting between the pair and the Queen’s connection with Alspaye who was

now branded a traitor as it was soon discovered that he had escaped with

Mortimer. Adam of Orlton, too, was suspected as the outside influence who had helped to make the escape possible. No doubt it seemed incredible that Isabella should have taken a hand in the affair, and it was presumed to be merely a coin-cidence that she had happened to be in the Palace of the Tower at the time.

However her attitude towards the King had changed. She made it clear that

she wanted no more intimacy with him. Not that he pressed that. It had only occurred because of the need to give the country heirs. They had stalwart

Edward who was nearly thirteen years old and growing conscious of coming

responsibilities.

They, will come sooner than you think, my son, thought Isabella grimly.

For the rest of the children she had little time to spare. That they were well and happy was all she wanted to know. Young Edward was her concern and she did make a point of being often with him.

Her great desire was to get to France, to join Mortimer, and to begin the plan of action which was to depose her husband.

She could tell herself that she had right on her side. The country was going from bad to worse. The Despensers were an evil influence. Edward and his

hated favourites must go. Isabella visualized an ideal state of affairs with her and Mortimer ruling through young Edward.

She was beginning to build up a little coterie about her– all enemies of

Despenser, all with the same grievances against the King, and since the Queen had suffered more humiliation than any through this unfortunate liaison, it was to her they were beginning to look. They all had one aim in common, to destroy the Despensers who, it was believed, were at the very heart of the King’s

unworthy kingship– just as in the earlier years of his reign Gaveston had been.

Thomas Earl of Lancaster was remembered and it was beginning to be said

that he had been wrongfully treated. He had been humiliated and beheaded in a manner very unseemly for one in his position. Stories about his goodness—

which had little foundation in truth– were circulated about him. Isabella could scarcely believe her ears when she heard that he had been called a saint. It was not long before miracles were being said to be performed at his grave.

His brother Henry, now Earl of Lancaster, came to see the Queen and to tell her how much he understood her dislike of the Despensers.

It was significant. Henry of Lancaster– certainly not the fighter and leader his brother had been– was offering her his support. Even the King’s two half-brothers Thomas Earl of Norfolk and Edmund Earl of Kent came to see her and to pay her very special homage because they too were heartily tired of their brother’s preoccupation with the Despensers.

‘It will not be easy to bring about his banishment,’ she told her brothers-in-law.

‘It should be done,’ replied Kent.

‘The King would fight to the death to save them,’ said Isabella.

‘Still,’ repeated Kent steadily, ‘it should be done.’

It was an indication of the way people were thinking and of great

gratification to Isabella.

She was desperately looking for an opportunity which would take her to

France where she could rejoin Mortimer.

Although the Despensers seemed at times to rush madly down that path of

folly which had led Gaveston to disaster, they were shrewd. They had noticed a change in the Queen’s attitude towards the King. They had been well aware that she previously tolerated them and had received the King for the sole reason of getting children. They understood that now she had four she had decided that was the end.

This was reasonable enough but she was turning more and more against the

King– a fact which would have been no cause for concern but for the

popularity she enjoyed with certain people.

The chief of these were the Londoners who had always favoured her and had

particularly disliked the King’s handsome young men. The Londoners were at this time annoyed with the King because he had removed a plaque from St

Paul’s which had been set up to applaud the good deeds of Thomas Earl of

Lancaster. Since he was dead– and had died so ignobly ― they had decided to make a saint of him. They forgot his indolence and incompetence; they endowed him with virtues he had not possessed; they were constantly telling each other that if he were there life would be different. It was dangerous and particularly so when miracles were said to take place at that spot where the plaque had been as well as at Lancaster’s tomb. It was a sign of the times.

Their chief cause for concern was Isabella.

‘Everywhere the Queen goes the people cheer,’ complained Hugh.

‘They have always thought very highly of her,’ replied Edward.

‘Yes, at your expense! I like that not.’

‘Dear Hugh, you are too mindful of me.’

‘And should I not be of my liege lord?’

‘There, I have made you scarlet with indignation.’

‘Indeed I am indignant at anything which bodes ill for my lord.’

‘What bodes ill now, dear nephew?’

Edward had taken to calling Hugh nephew. He said it was a pleasant

relationship and some people would take it from the name that he regarded

Hugh in that light.

‘The Queen, I think, my lord.’

‘The Queen! In what way?’

‘She is restive. She is jealous of me. She sees too many people.’

‘What should we do? You tell me, Hugh.’

‘Let us consider her.’

‘Do so, Hugh.’

‘Her brother is the King of France and she writes frequently to him. There are complaints in her letters of your treatment of her.’

Edward shrugged his shoulders. ‘I doubt her brother has time for her

gossip.’

‘The King of France would always have time to hear evil spoken of the King of England.’

‘She speaks no evil. She merely complains that I spend more time with you

than with her. Well, I do not intend to spend more time with her if it means missing your company.’

‘I know it and rejoice in it. I wonder whether the Pope would grant an

annulment.’

‘An annulment! And she the sister of the King of France.’

‘No, he would be afraid of France. He would never grant it. But we might

try.’

‘It would have to be in secret.’

‘It would be. But I believe you should take over some of her lands. She is very well endowed.’

Edward nodded. ‘Then let it be done.’

‘It is unwise that she should keep her French servants. How can we know

that these may not be spies for France?’ ‘What would you suggest?’

‘That they be sent away. Her allowance should be cut to twenty shillings a day and that is enough for her. With more she might use it to make mischief. I believe she is in correspondence with someone in France.’

‘She writes now and then to her brother I know.’

‘Yes― and maybe others.’

‘What mean you, Hugh?’

‘I am not sure, but for your sake, I should like to put a watch on her.’

‘A watch, dear boy?’

‘I thought my wife might be her― what shall we call it― keeper of the

household. She will be able to report to us what is going on there.’

‘Would she undertake such a task?’

‘She would if she were told to.’

Hugh’s wife was the daughter of the Earl of Gloucester and the Princess

Joanna, daughter of Edward the First and therefore Edward’s niece. Hugh had already come into his share of the Gloucester estate through her, so he was pleased with his marriage. Whether Eleanor le Despenser was as gratified with it was another matter.

However she could be made to act as keeper of the household for Isabella

and report where her correspondence went.

So it was arranged.

The indignation of the Queen when she realized what was happening was

great; but much to the surprise of those about her she made little complaint. She was biding her time. Soon she would be the one to call the tune.

–――――――

How maddening it was that she should be submitted to such indignity. The

King’s niece to be her guardian– that foolish little creature who was afraid of her mincing husband! How dared she! And yet of course the poor little thing was afraid to do otherwise. She had an idea that the silly girl tried to take her letters and give them to her spying husband. Did she think Isabella would be such a fool as to allow her to do that? Did she think she had not friends who would take what she wrote in secret and deliver it unopened to its destination?

Charles, the last of her three brothers, was now the King of France. He was known as Charles the Fair having inherited the good looks of his father Philip IV. It was said that he was doomed as were all the descendants of the direct line of the Capets and really it seemed that the curse was working. First her father, then Louis le Hutin, then Philip the Tall and the only one who was left was Charles.

He still lived but like the people of France she was ready to hear that some catastrophe had overtaken him.

She wrote fiercely to him, letters which were for his eyes alone. Could he stand by and see his sister– a Princess of France– treated thus? He already knew– the whole world knew that her husband preferred the couch of his

chamberlain to hers. Her husband was a miser. He had robbed her of lands and possessions; he had ordered that she should receive a pittance. He was depriving her not only of her status as a Queen but of everything she possessed. The greatest indignity of all had been to set a keeper of the household over her. A woman who– poor creature― had been married as a child to Despenser on

account of her fortune. This woman’s task was to spy on her, to steal her letters, to treat her as a prisoner. Could he, her brother and King of France stand by and see this happen to a member of the great royal family of France?

Charles le Bel decided that he could pacify his sister by reminding Edward that he owed him personal homage for the provinces he held in France and he considered it the duty of the King of England to come to France and do his duty.

‘Depend upon it,’ said Hugh le Despenser, ‘the Queen has stirred up trouble.

Letters from her have got through to the King of France and this is the result.

Let your young half-brother Edmund go to France. It will keep him out of

mischief. He can explain to Charles le Bel that you are too engrossed in matters of state here to make the journey just yet.’

Edward always made a point of taking Hugh’s advice and Edmund Earl of

Kent was sent to France.

Charles received the Earl with a show of hospitality and gave some

magnificent entertainments in his honour.

The young Earl was no match for the King of France. Moreover, while Kent

was on a visit to Aquitaine, Charles de Valois, younger brother of Philip the Fair and uncle of the King, invaded the Duchy and so successful was he that the earl was forced to agree to a peace which was greatly to his disadvantage and gave the French possession of almost the whole of Aquitaine.

Isabella watched these events very closely and believed that she saw through them the chance she had been waiting for.

Humbly, she sent word to Edward asking if she might see him. He could

scarcely refuse such a request and he was surprised to see how meekly she

came.

Hugh was wise as usual, he thought. They were treating her in the right

manner.

She made no reference to his neglect of her. She came straight to the point and said how grieved she was to see the conflict between him and her brother.

She could not understand what her uncle was thinking of to attack Aquitaine so villainously.

‘The French have always been after it,’ said Edward. ‘I’m afraid my brother Kent was not experienced enough to handle the situation.’

‘Poor Edmund, he did his best.’

‘His best was poor statecraft,’ said Edward.

She wanted to laugh. And you, my fine man, she thought, what of your

statecraft? Edmund’s ineptitude is nothing when compared with yours!

‘My brothers were always fond of me,’ she went on. ‘Edward, I believe that if I went to Charles I could put your case to him. I believe I could make him see reason. Perhaps I could bring my uncle to reconsider the treaty. It would please me to try.’

‘ You go? That would be useless. They would never listen to you.’

‘I was always treated with great respect in my father’s court,’ she said with pointed dignity. ‘I doubt I should receive anything less in my brother’s.’

Edward looked at her thoughtfully. She had managed to win the approval of

the Londoners. Hugh had been talking about that the other day. He had said she had always been careful never to do anything which might lose that respect.

‘It is a matter I should have to consider,’ he said.

Oh yes, she thought, ask Master Hugh whether he will allow your Queen tovisit her brother.

Her spirits dropped. She might have been able to delude Edward. Hugh le

Despenser was another matter. In spite of the fact that he allowed his acquisitive nature to bring him more and more unpopularity every week, he was shrewd. He could surely not have connected her with Mortimer’s escape. She had been very careful about Mortimer. She had not written to him at all. That would have been too dangerous even though she had her faithful friends whom she could trust to deliver important letters. She had been afraid of putting him in danger. No, Hugh le Despenser could not know of the relationship between her and

Mortimer.

There was nothing to be done but let Edward consult with his dear Hugh.

Meanwhile she must pray that she could get that permission to leave. It would be so much more satisfactory than attempting to escape, for they were not quite ready yet to come out into the open.

–――――――

Hugh considered the matter.

‘So she wishes to go to her brother?’