Rebels and traitors

'By the skin of my teeth.'

'Your lads look healthy'

'They are thriving. They have never known any different, not that they can remember… They long to see Orlando. Any visitor raises their hopes.' Juliana let her despair show as she relaxed with Edmund at her kitchen hearth. 'I have a little parlour, or we can talk here with the pans bubbling. This is where I often sit once the light goes. The fire gives some comfort on lonely evenings.'

Edmund inclined his head and stayed put. Perhaps he realised that if they moved to the parlour they would have to carry their chairs with them.

Juliana quietly let herself enjoy the luxuries of adult company and old friendship. Edmund Treves must be in his late twenties now. It was seven years since he was a witness at her wedding and over three since Juliana last saw him, in the gloomy months after Naseby, before Lovell took her to Pelham Hall.

Had Edmund aged? After spotting only old scars, Juliana decided he had merely become much quieter. Had she? Edmund would be too polite to say.

She braced herself. 'Have you brought me bad news, Edmund?'

He looked surprised. Juliana now became certain that Edmund Treves had not expected to discover her here — and he was deep in some trouble of his own. In her usual frank way, she tackled her suspicions: 'I suspect you have been in this little house before, my friend. You lived here with my secretive husband, while he was stirring up rebellion in Kent. Tell me the truth, Edmund,' she said sternly. 'Was Lovell here, and were you with him?'

Edmund's brow cleared. He obediently confessed what she had already worked out: Lovell and a group of men had stayed there last year. Edmund was recruited to join them. Lovell had been made a colonel and, using Sir Lysander Pelham's money, raised a troop for the rebellion. 'You must have known!' marvelled Edmund, still something of an innocent. 'Lovell, of course, had the house as your dowry — I believe he found it somewhat smaller than we once supposed!'

'This house', Juliana returned crisply, 'was my father's, property. Still, Papa died at Colchester so Lovell can come back here and lord it as soon as he likes… If he still lives?' she tried out again on Edmund.

He gave her a swift, sweet smile, eager as always to dispel anxiety for her. 'Oh be sure he does. I saw him alive in January'

'Tell me!' Juliana ordered. 'Go back to the beginning.'

In 1648, Lovell and his troop had assembled here. They took part in the Kent fighting, and were driven out of Maidstone by Fairfax. After reconnoitring at Rochester, where many men deserted them, a large group followed Lord Norwich towards London, but Lovell peeled off from the old commander. He had despised Norwich's son, the debauched Lord Goring, though Goring at least could fight when he was sober; the professional Lovell would not take orders from an ancient nobleman who had never engaged in war. He and Treves went with a group that captured the castles at Walmer, Sandwich and Deal, castles which guarded the naval anchorage called the Downs. Fairfax left a Parliamentary force to besiege them. Eventually, while Fairfax was on the other side of the Thames attempting to take Colchester, the Prince of Wales appeared off the coast with a little fleet. Prince Charles tried to relieve the castles, to build a bridgehead through which England could be invaded. His attempt at an amphibious landing with fifteen hundred men was repulsed by stiff enemy opposition. However, Lovell and Treves broke out and managed to get themselves aboard one of the ships.

'So the prince took us off, to our great relief. We drifted north to Yarmouth, which might have been taken but for loss of resolution — then we drifted south back to the Downs, where we might have destroyed the Parliamentary fleet but for a storm. Prince Rupert advised an attack on the Isle of Wight to carry off the King, who was then still there. But Rupert was talked down by doubters, so we ended up in Holland. We were pursued by the Parliamentary navy, which bottled up our ships in port until this January.'

'The exiled court moved to Holland.' Juliana had read it in a news-sheet.

'The Hague. The new King stays there while he assesses who will help him to regain the kingdom.'

'Edmund, do not refer to him as "the new King" while you are in England.'

'Damme — '

Juliana held up her hand firmly. 'Do not.'

Edmund, whose views had always been straightforward to the point of naivete, resisted angrily. 'Are you a Commonwealther?'

'I choose to live a quiet life — in safety! Finish telling me about Orlando.'

'He won't accept this treason.'

'He will if he comes here. He will have to. Go on, I say'

With a snort, Edmund continued. 'Prince Rupert took charge of the fleet. There was no money for fitting out and he had to put down mutinies; he suspended one ringleader over the side of the ship until the man capitulated… He bargained with merchants, raised credit on his mother's jewels, and plucked funds out of nowhere, as energetic and inspired as always. He and Prince Maurice found no attraction in the Prince of Wales's hopes for a Scottish alliance — Rupert is friendly with the Marquis of Montrose; he hates the Presbyterian Kirk.'

'So he found another way to use his energies?' Juliana asked.

'Ireland. The Marquis of Ormond has invited the young King to join him. Rupert and Maurice sailed with six warships and some lesser vessels to Kinsale. They have been raiding Commonwealth ships in the English Channel.'

'Indeed!' Juliana smiled ruefully. 'I read that they are so successful, marine insurance rates in London have increased by four hundred per cent!' Edmund laughed briefly. Juliana caught a nuance: 'Does this affect us?'

'Lovell went to sea with them.'

'He despises Prince Rupert.'

'He attached himself to Prince Maurice. They left in January, before we all knew, or could even believe, that the King would be executed.'

'So what of you, Edmund?'

'My mother is gravely ill; I am needed here.'

'Is your return dangerous?' Juliana was thinking of Parliament's measures against Delinquents.

'I have to take my chance.'

There was a pause, while Juliana thought about her own position. 'So now my heroic husband is a pirate at sea! Aye, and who knows when or where he may make land again.'

'Orlando wrote to you,' Edmund earnestly assured her. 'The letter must have gone astray'

Juliana conceded that Lovell would not have known where she was, once she left Pelham Hall. She did not altogether trust Bessy and Susannah to redirect correspondence. Even if they would co-operate, there were many possible mishaps, from letters being dropped in the mud by careless carriers to Parliamentary spies seizing and opening suspect packets.

By now she felt certain that Edmund was obsessed by some dark trouble. As if satisfied with their discussion, she led him out of doors and walked him around her orchard. Chattering about the age and poor yield of her apple, pear and cherry trees, she enjoyed the long summer evening. The sky was still blue, a few bats flitted over an old pond, the countryside was peaceful, she had recovered an old friend..

They seated themselves on a mouldering wooden bench. Juliana spent all their time there in terror that this decayed rustic seat would collapse beneath them. She kept silent because the subject of their conversation changed abruptly — to one she could never have foreseen.

'You are strangely quiet. Has something gone wrong, Edmund?'

'Have you heard,' Edmund asked her slowly, 'of a man named Isaac Dorislaus?'

Because she read so many news-sheets, Juliana had. Dr Dorislaus was a Dutch lawyer and historian who had lived in England for many years. His academic interest was kingship, his thesis that regal authority had in ancient times been assigned to monarchs by the people, so that kings who abused their position were tyrants, from whom the rulership could be removed. This view had not won the doctor any favours during the early years of King Charles's personal rule, so his university career had foundered. After struggling in legal advocacy, he had supported Parliament, for whom he investigated Royalist plots and conducted diplomatic missions to the Netherlands. At the King's trial, he was one of the prosecuting counsels and although he did not speak, he had intended to do so if Charles had ever acknowledged the court and answered the charges.