tapestries yet prefers sober hues in everything I wear. I still have dresses in my wardrobe that belonged to my mother.’
‘Your mother was always very smart,’ said Beatrix with a nostalgic smile. ‘You are very much like her in that respect.’
Amalia was about to point out that she was developing rather different tastes but she broke off instead. Talking about her mother always brought back unhappy memories of her untimely death. If the conversation had continued, Amalia knew that she and Beatrix would eventually end up in tears. Turning away from the shop, she put aside any thoughts of a new dress and set off for home. Beatrix, a servant, friend and chaperone, fell in beside her.
‘How much longer will this war drag on?’ she asked, wearily.
‘I wish I knew, Beatrix.’
‘What does Captain Rawson say?’
‘He has no more idea than the rest of us.’
‘Yet he’s very close to the Duke of Marlborough. He must know what’s going on.’
‘The fighting will continue until one side gives in,’ said Amalia with a helpless shrug, ‘and that’s an unlikely prospect at the moment. There was talk of peace after the battle of Ramillies but, as usual, it came to nothing.’
Beatrix was morose. ‘I think it could go on for ever.’
‘Oh, don’t say that, Beatrix. We must never give up hope.’
‘It’s the same thing every year – more killing, more misery. I’d hate to be the mother of sons in the army. You’d never know if they’d come back alive. To be married to a soldier would be even worse. You’d spend all your time worrying and…’ Her voice tailed off as she realised what she was saying. She became apologetic. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Amalia. I didn’t mean to upset you. I wasn’t talking about Captain Rawson.’
‘Let’s just change the subject, shall we?’ said Amalia, firmly.
‘He rides beside the Duke of Marlborough so he’s in no danger at all. Captain Rawson is safe. That must be a comfort to you.’
But Amalia was no longer listening. She had drifted off into a private world where there was no comfort at all. As long as the war continued, no British soldier was completelysafe, especially one who took on the hazardous assignments that fell to Daniel Rawson. At any moment, his luck might finally run out. Filled with apprehension, she kept asking herself the same question.
‘Where are you now , Daniel?’
Because Daniel had changed out of his uniform, the farmer didn’t recognise him at first. When it dawned on him who his visitor was, however, he became hostile and ordered Daniel to leave at once. After what had happened at the neighbouring farm, he wanted nothing to do with British soldiers. It took Daniel a long time to calm him down and an even longer one to persuade him to bring the boy down from his room. Only when the farmer was convinced of Daniel’s sincerity did he agree that his visitor could talk to Jules, the young lad who’d witnessed the atrocities at his farm.
The boy came downstairs reluctantly. Since the outrage, he’d been weeping into his pillow, convulsed by a grief that was shot through with a burning desire for revenge. Daniel saw something of himself in Jules and was reminded of a time when his own world had been turned upside down by the arrival of soldiers. Daniel had at least been able to defend his mother. Jules had been utterly powerless and was plagued by guilt as a consequence. In the boy’s face, Daniel saw the same anger, hatred and confusion that he’d felt in the wake of the battle of Sedgemoor. The one consolationwas that Jules had not actually seen his family being murdered. Daniel, by contrast, had watched his father being hanged.
When the farmer explained that their visitor was a British soldier, Jules lost his temper and hurled himself at Daniel, managing to land a few punches. He had to be restrained for a while. Daniel took his time, letting the boy’s rage die down a little.
‘I come as a friend, Jules,’ he said at
‘Your mother was always very smart,’ said Beatrix with a nostalgic smile. ‘You are very much like her in that respect.’
Amalia was about to point out that she was developing rather different tastes but she broke off instead. Talking about her mother always brought back unhappy memories of her untimely death. If the conversation had continued, Amalia knew that she and Beatrix would eventually end up in tears. Turning away from the shop, she put aside any thoughts of a new dress and set off for home. Beatrix, a servant, friend and chaperone, fell in beside her.
‘How much longer will this war drag on?’ she asked, wearily.
‘I wish I knew, Beatrix.’
‘What does Captain Rawson say?’
‘He has no more idea than the rest of us.’
‘Yet he’s very close to the Duke of Marlborough. He must know what’s going on.’
‘The fighting will continue until one side gives in,’ said Amalia with a helpless shrug, ‘and that’s an unlikely prospect at the moment. There was talk of peace after the battle of Ramillies but, as usual, it came to nothing.’
Beatrix was morose. ‘I think it could go on for ever.’
‘Oh, don’t say that, Beatrix. We must never give up hope.’
‘It’s the same thing every year – more killing, more misery. I’d hate to be the mother of sons in the army. You’d never know if they’d come back alive. To be married to a soldier would be even worse. You’d spend all your time worrying and…’ Her voice tailed off as she realised what she was saying. She became apologetic. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Amalia. I didn’t mean to upset you. I wasn’t talking about Captain Rawson.’
‘Let’s just change the subject, shall we?’ said Amalia, firmly.
‘He rides beside the Duke of Marlborough so he’s in no danger at all. Captain Rawson is safe. That must be a comfort to you.’
But Amalia was no longer listening. She had drifted off into a private world where there was no comfort at all. As long as the war continued, no British soldier was completelysafe, especially one who took on the hazardous assignments that fell to Daniel Rawson. At any moment, his luck might finally run out. Filled with apprehension, she kept asking herself the same question.
‘Where are you now , Daniel?’
Because Daniel had changed out of his uniform, the farmer didn’t recognise him at first. When it dawned on him who his visitor was, however, he became hostile and ordered Daniel to leave at once. After what had happened at the neighbouring farm, he wanted nothing to do with British soldiers. It took Daniel a long time to calm him down and an even longer one to persuade him to bring the boy down from his room. Only when the farmer was convinced of Daniel’s sincerity did he agree that his visitor could talk to Jules, the young lad who’d witnessed the atrocities at his farm.
The boy came downstairs reluctantly. Since the outrage, he’d been weeping into his pillow, convulsed by a grief that was shot through with a burning desire for revenge. Daniel saw something of himself in Jules and was reminded of a time when his own world had been turned upside down by the arrival of soldiers. Daniel had at least been able to defend his mother. Jules had been utterly powerless and was plagued by guilt as a consequence. In the boy’s face, Daniel saw the same anger, hatred and confusion that he’d felt in the wake of the battle of Sedgemoor. The one consolationwas that Jules had not actually seen his family being murdered. Daniel, by contrast, had watched his father being hanged.
When the farmer explained that their visitor was a British soldier, Jules lost his temper and hurled himself at Daniel, managing to land a few punches. He had to be restrained for a while. Daniel took his time, letting the boy’s rage die down a little.
‘I come as a friend, Jules,’ he said at
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