'So you are for the King, even though it is a hopeless cause?' sniped Mr Gadd.
'Not hopeless,' returned Lovell. 'More ridiculous than I like. More ill-judged than it need be, longer, more bloody, more expensive, no doubt. But the King must win.'
Mr Gadd pursed his lips very slightly.
'Of course the King will win!' Edmund burst out immaturely.
While Juliana continued to observe in silence, the men reviewed the position. England had had no standing army. On both sides, gentlemen raised regiments, often composed of their own pressurised tenants, ill-equipped and mutinous. The King's call to arms was being only fitfully answered but in contrast, the Earl of Essex, Parliament's commanding general, was in charge of twenty thousand troops. Now, in October, the King was still trying to drum up support in the Midlands, with mixed success, his army still much inferior. At the time of Juliana's courtship, the King had moved to Shrewsbury.
'There he is well positioned for support to reach him from Wales, where several regiments are being raised for him,' said Mr Gadd.
'You speak like a strategist,' Edmund Treves commented.
'We shall all be strategists by winter,' replied Mr Gadd.
Lovell had previously worn a superior smile, but now spoke easily, as if he was enjoying the debate: 'The Earl of Essex prefers a waiting game; he wants the King to sue for peace.'
'You think the King will march on London?' Mr Gadd asked.
'What has your intelligence from London to say?'
'Oh my correspondence with London is all of demesnes and rents,' Gadd told Lovell softly.
'Of course it is.'
There was a small pause, as if contenders in a sparring match were taking breath.
Lovell reached for the wine flagon to refill his glass and that of Treves. Mr Gadd had already declined further liquor, on health grounds. Juliana's glass was empty, but she was a young girl, and Lovell no more considered replenishing her wineglass than he had deemed it proper to include her in the political conversation. She had a flashing vision of Roxanne, on rare occasions when there was wine at the Carlill table, grasping the flagon and pouring for everyone equally.
Edmund Treves caught Juliana's look and misinterpreted: 'Do not be alarmed by all our talk of war, madam. Neither side wishes this conflict to be a trouble for women.'
Juliana remembered what Mr Gadd had told her about Edmund's opposing uncles. 'Any woman connected to men who are fighting must find it a very deep trouble, Master Treves. Besides,' she added wickedly, 'perhaps if Captain Lovell had asked me, am I for King or Parliament, I might not give a lawyer's answer!'
Orlando Lovell looked amused. 'So let me ask you the question.'
For almost the first time in their acquaintance Juliana gazed straight at him. 'Oh I must ally myself with my husband — when I have a husband.' She let them feel smug, then added, 'However, if I did not like his views, that would be very difficult. I hope to have my husband's full confidence, and to share mine with him.'
'And if you could not?'
'Oh I should have to leave him of course, Captain Lovell.'
As they all laughed most merrily at this idea, it seemed that only Juliana Carlill recognised that she had not been joking.
By the time that they had this conversation, King Charles had made his move. He left Shrewsbury, to the relief of the townsfolk, who had been badly used by his bored and ill-provisioned soldiers, even after the royal Mint from Aberystwyth was brought to coin collected plate and pay the men. The Earl of Essex bestirred himself. Leaving Worcester, which had suffered from his billeted troops as badly as Shrewsbury from the King's, he set off to form a blockade between the King and London. So the two field armies moved slowly towards each other, with between fourteen and fifteen thousand men apiece, each strangely unaware of their converging paths. Poor physical communications and the indifference of the people in areas through which they passed combined to astonish them when they suddenly came within a few miles of each other, near Kineton in south Warwickshire. On the 23rd of October, the King decided to join battle, drawing up his troops on Edgehill ridge.
When news of the battle at Edgehill reached Wallingford, which happened quite swiftly despite the sleeting autumn weather, the courtship of Juliana faltered. Though reports were as confusing as the battle seemed to have been, Treves and Lovell were now eager to join the King's army. A polite note informed Mr Gadd they had left Wallingford to volunteer.
'We shall not see them again,' Juliana murmured, uncertain whether to be disappointed.
Six days after the battle, the King and his army marched into Oxford, where Lovell and Treves were waiting. Charles was welcomed by the university with great ceremony and with less warmth by the town. Four days later he set off again determined to capture London. This was his march to Turnham Green.
As the Royalist army travelled south, it passed Wallingford. Juliana and Mr Gadd were surprised to receive a new visit from Orlando Lovell. This time he came alone. He seemed depressed, which appeared to be his reaction to the battle; he had ascertained details which he shared with Mr Gadd, man to man, Juliana being permitted to listen in only because she sat so quiet in a corner the men forgot she was there.
According to Lovell, the fighting took place between three o'clock in the afternoon and darkness. He described sourly how Prince Rupert's cavalry thundered through one Parliamentary wing but then chased off the field in pursuit of their fleeing opponents instead of steadying. Against orders, the King's reserves followed Rupert, another episode that caused Lovell's displeasure. The Parliamentary centre held, he said, then their infantry and cavalry fought valiantly. Night fell upon widespread confusion. The exhausted armies gradually came to rest.
'Both sides claimed victory though neither could sustain the claim.' Lovell was speaking in a grim voice; Juliana saw that he knew about fighting like this. She heard under notes of criticism. 'There was heroism, of course. There was futility. Seasoned soldiers are primed for both, but most men there had no past experience. They must have been terrified and shaken. Then after the guns and drums fell silent, the survivors spent the night on the battlefield. It was freezing cold. Under the gunsmoke, wounded men were moaning and dying. No medical aid came to them, though some were saved by the frost, which staunched their blood. It is said one of our men, stripped and left for dead, kept himself warm by pulling a corpse over him. Among the living, who had neither eaten nor drunk since the previous dawn, men shivered helplessly and tried to come to terms whilst in deep shock. Survivors of battle experience relief and also overwhelming guilt. Even their demoralised commanders sank into lethargy'
'And where does this leave us?' Mr Gadd asked him.
'Hard to say. Parliament had the most dead, though they held the field. When dawn broke, there were arguments on both sides, but neither commander was willing to continue. Both withdrew. It achieved nothing and solved nothing. All it tells me, sir, is that there will be no fast resolution.'
Lovell then asked for a conversation in private with the lawyer, after which he wanted an interview with Juliana. While she waited, she found she was quite frightened by what she had heard. She did not know exactly where Edgehill or Kineton were, but Warwickshire was only the next county to Oxfordshire. If, as Orlando Lovell implied, the battle stalemate indicated that this war was to continue for a substantial period, Juliana felt suddenly more anxious about her own future.
When Lovell emerged, he suggested a walk in the garden. Mr Gadd pleaded age, so she found herself in an unexpected tete-a-tete.
The grounds of the judge's house ran down to the river, with green lawns that must be scythed by some hired labourer even though the judge never came here. The grass was too sodden to be walked on, at least in a young lady's delicate footwear. Lovell's boots might have done it, but he had no intention of sinking in up to his precious spurs. He led Juliana to a raised terrace nearer the house, their feet crunching on wet pea-grain gravel.