Page 51 of Linenfold (The Alice Chronicles #4)
O f course, they found nothing,’ Alice says to Philip as they sit in her chamber.
The rest of the High Stoke search proceeded for a while in similar vein, cupboards and coffers ransacked, chimneys probed, each room coming under their scrutiny.
As Sir Malcolm’s credibility waned, so the search became increasingly perfunctory.
It is no part of the Sheriff’s men to cause wanton destruction that could result in a justified complaint against them.
Alice has had the satisfaction of eavesdropping on Sir Malcolm tearing into Maureen for ill-informed stories and false pretences, before flinging out of the house in a fury of mortification.
He can be in no doubt that Sheriff Bowyer will hear all about this in short order.
Alice has followed up his censure by dismissing Maureen forthwith from High Stoke for her malicious disloyalty.
Now, having checked there are no listeners in the chamber passage, she and Philip stand by a quietened Henrietta’s cradle and look back over the last hour.
‘It was hard to keep a straight face when I realised he had guessed wrongly,’ she tells him.
‘It was close-run thing,’ he agrees. ‘I couldn’t think how the box had moved from where I hid it, but watching him break into it, I thought it was all up with me.
Instead, I had the satisfaction of telling him I shall inform Justice Egerton and the Sheriff of his high-handed ways and demand the price of repairing my box.
I shan’t get it, but it was worth it to see him dumbfounded! ’
Alice adds the tale of her own fright. ‘When the Sheriff’s officer searched me I fully expected him to turn up my skirts.
Wipley would have done, because that’s Wipley’s level, but fortunately not the Sheriff’s man.
I’d have been hard pressed to explain my sooty shift where I wiped my hands after getting your box out of the chimney. ’
Philip laughs with her, then becomes serious once more. ‘Thank goodness I gave you my spare key. In case.’
‘You’re amongst the prophets, Philip.’
Still wary of possible listeners, he lowers his voice. ‘Where are they, anyway?’
Alice lowers hers likewise. ‘Henrietta is lying on them under her mattress. They made her bawl all the more from discomfort. And, bless her, she chose that moment to need a napkin change. You saw how they took fright. My clever daughter!’
‘Like her mother.’
In the kitchen court it is barely dawn. The first hard frost of December has settled overnight on tree and roof, thickening twigs and furring tiles.
A flour-like dusting covers the grass of the fields towards Merrow, the last stalks of autumn poking up here and there, bent and brown.
Alice follows Philip out of the house to see Allan and his sweetheart Grace standing by the two horses, their breath mingling in clouds.
Allan in his new clothes can barely suppress a swagger.
The well-padded russet-red jerkin and breeches are of a quality easily as good as the set of clothes he found.
And this is his opportunity to wear them, including a new pair of boots which Philip has added, for he will be accompanying Philip on his return to London.
He ties the strings of his new cloak of tawny wool, drawing it round his shoulders.
Grace’s hands are shaking as she settles his new brimmed hat at a slight angle on his head.
‘How do your garments feel, Allan,’ Alice asks him as he mounts Athena and settles himself in the saddle.
‘Heavier than my usual.’
‘Good, heavy English wool,’ she says. ‘Warm? Comfortable?’
‘Both,’ flexing his shoulders and stretching out his arms. ‘A very fine servant for the day,’ he jokes. ‘It all fits like a glove.’ His eyes are bright with excitement.
‘Properly fine for a lord’s servant,’ she says.
‘That reminds me,’ Philip says, reaching into his pack. ‘Chilly today, you’d better have these. Regard them as yours,’ and Allan with an appreciative look pulls on the pair of plain leather gauntlets.
Philip’s bag is already strapped onto Allan’s saddle. Alongside stands Alice with the linenfold box, duly repaired by Allan, ready to hand. ‘Put that in your bag,’ Philip tells him. ‘It would stick out like a sore thumb, me carrying it when I have a servant to take care of it.’
Allan leans down to take it from Alice’s hands.
He settles it into his own bag next to his leather bottle of ale, and places on top of it the bread and ham wrapped in a cloth for his breakfast. He tightens the straps and sweeps his cloak over the top, concealing it from view.
Grace comes to his stirrup. ‘I put some of my newest winter cheese in your pack too,’ she whispers, and Allan leans down and kisses her.
She clings to him, anxiety vying with the admiration writ large in her eyes.
Still whispering, ‘Take care, Allan,’ she says.
‘Please take great care. I wish somebody else were carrying it. What you are doing is so dangerous. Come back safe.’
‘I plan to,’ he whispers back and kisses her again. ‘I’ll see you at supper. Save me a place by your side.’
‘Well, we agreed the early start,’ Philip says, springing up to the saddle and throwing his leg over, ‘so let’s get going.’
‘Go across the fields to Freemans before you join the main way,’ Alice advises him quietly. ‘That way you will evade any watchers Sir Malcolm has placed on the road.’
‘Once bitten, twice shy,’ Philip replies. ‘After yesterday he will be licking his wounds, but we’ll go across country, just in case. I’d call in at Freemans but we cannot spare the time. Juliana is going to kill me when she finds out I’ve gone to London without telling her.’
‘She already knows,’ Alice says. ‘What she didn’t tell you is that she returned to London yesterday, to be back at her parents’ house ready for when you arrive.’
Philip grins. ‘That’s my Juliana. She’ll still be furious I didn’t tell her.’
Lightly he touches the spur to the horse’s flank and Allan falls in behind as they make their way between stables and woodshed and settle into an easy canter across the frosted fields towards Merrow.
For long seconds Alice gazes after them until they disappear beyond the rise.
In her hand she feels the hard pebble Philip placed there before they came out of the house.
It is smaller than the first stone she cut out of the crude bed-hanging.
‘Master Corvin the tailor assures me the community at Spitalfields would wish you to have it,’ he told her, ‘in recognition of the recovery of their treasury.’ And when she demurred, ‘You have to accept it,’ Philip countered.
‘We’ve told the duke and the coroner that your husband gave you such a ruby, so you see, you must.’
‘Keep Allan safe,’ she said to him. ‘He accompanies you in the full knowledge of what he carries.’
When they reach the house of Gabriel Boutefoy in Spitalfields, Allan will change into an identical suit of clothes, also fashioned by the tailor.
The treasury which they retrieved from Henrietta’s cradle has been given another hiding place.
The one hundred and forty-four gems, each in its folded linen bag, are now stitched into as many pockets sewn in the lining of the jerkin and breeches Allan wears.
Alice accepted the ruby with gratitude, knowing in that moment how she will use it.
The small fortune it represents will easily buy Allan the completion of his interrupted apprenticeship, so that he and his sweetheart Grace can at last marry.
She will be sad to lose the two of them, both valued members of her household, both she counts as friends.
But right at this moment, she thinks, I have so much to be thankful for. I have my daughter, Sam will return now that the jewels are gone, I am content.