Page 184 of Dawnlands

“And whose fault is that?” Alys demanded, goaded into anger. “Who chose to camp a private army on Hounslow Heath? Who chose to attack the church? Who chose to close parliament? Who chose to hang half of the west country for following Monmouth? Fired a cannon into my own uncle’s face? Ruined business?”

“Her husband! Not her! She’s a woman, like you and I are women. We have to go where our husbands command; not where our heart is.” Livia came a little closer. “I have only once lived free and followed my heart.” She pulled off her glove and put her cold hand on Alys’s warm one. “Once,” she said. “With you.”

“You betrayed me, and took the man who loved my mother.”

“I made the worst mistake of my life,” Livia swore. “But I missed you, Alys, every single day. I dreamed of you every night. You’re the one person I ever truly loved. I will kneel at your feet, here in the rain, if you will only forgive me.”

“You can come out of the rain at any rate,” Alys said impatiently. “But they have to stay outside. I’m not having them in the house.”

“Not in the house,” Livia repeated eagerly, following Alys into the kitchen and putting back her hood, her face alight with hope.“Let’s get them get straight on board, and Captain Shore can take them away.”

“You cause nothing but trouble!” Alys exclaimed.

Livia threw back her cloak and stepped very close to Alys, as if to whisper. Their lips were so close that if Alys had turned her head they would have kissed. “Forgive me,” Livia breathed. “Help me. And then I will be free to come to you.”

The kitchen door opened and Captain Shore came in and recoiled when he saw Alys and Livia, as close as lovers. “Mrs. Shore?” he said uncertainly.

Alys turned to him. “You remember the Nobildonna,” she said coldly. “She’s here with the queen and the baby in the yard. They want you to sail them to France.”

“We’ll die if you don’t take us,” Livia said simply, stepping towards him, her beautiful face imploring his help. “If William of Orange’s army, or the mob, gets hold of her, they’ll hang her from a roof beam. We have to get her away.”

“What’s wrong with the royal navy?” Abel Shore demanded.

“Traitors,” she said shortly. “Scuppered their ships rather than sail for her. She has no friends. I don’t speak for the king, but for her, and her innocent child.”

“If it is her innocent child?” Captain Shore said unhappily. “I take no interest in it myself. I don’t rightly know what should be done.” He looked at his wife. “It’s a bad business,” he said. “I don’t see why we should stick our finger in such a pudding.”

There was a scud of icy rain on the window. Livia took hold of Alys’s hand. “There’s something I’ve not told you,” she said urgently.

To Captain Shore she said, “Forgive me,” and drew Alys a little away from him and bent her head to whisper in her ear. Alys could smell the perfume on Livia’s hair, a hint of roses that conjured the memory of nights in Livia’s bed: her desire, her joy.

“It’s Rob,” Livia said simply. “Your brother. I’m so sorry, Alys, but he gave us the baby. I asked him to do it, and he gave us the prince.”

“It really is a changeling?”

Livia nodded. “Yes. It’s Rob’s changeling. If we are captured, everyone will know that Rob gave us the baby. He’ll be tried for treasonif the mob doesn’t get him first. He’ll be hanged and drawn and quartered.”

Alys was white. “Why would he do such a thing?”

“He loved me once,” Livia said. Her gaze on Alys’s face was steady, irresistible. “He did it for me. For love. You loved me once. Just save me, Alys. It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask of you. Let me get to France with the queen and the baby that Rob gave her, and I will never trouble you again.”

She could see Alys was weakening. “You can’t endanger Rob,” Livia pleaded. “It would be a death sentence. And can you tell Matteo that I came to you for help and you let me, his own mother, be torn apart on your doorstep?”

Alys shook her head. Suddenly the tolling bell of St. Olave’s stopped ringing. The silence was more terrifying than the noise had been.

“What does that mean?” Alys turned to her husband.

But it was Livia who answered: “Perhaps they are searching for us.”

“Take her,” Alys said, turning to her husband. “To France, if you can, anywhere. Please, Abel.”

He clapped his hat on his head. “I’ll get the ship readied,” he said. “Tide’s still high. Get them aboard and get rid of that carriage.”

Livia was out of the back door without another word, to command the coachman to back out and go home, to pull the travelers into the kitchen. “We’re not staying,” she said breathlessly to the queen. “We’re boarding at once.”

The queen, white-faced, turned to Alys. “Thank you,” she said simply.

Alys nodded grimly. She took a loaf of bread from the larder and a round of cheese, a stone jug of small ale. “You can take this,” she said to Livia and put it in a basket and pushed it into her hands. She threw a shawl over her head and went out of the room, down the hall, and they heard the front door slammed by the wind as she stepped over the sill to the quay.