‘It was nothing, my lady,’ began Cherry.

Mrs Cherry said: ‘Don’t try to hold me back, Cherry. We’re not getting out of here. There’s that on my mind that I’ve got to talk of.’

‘Don’t say anything, Emmy,’ said Cherry. ‘Please don’t say anything.’

‘It’s so long … and it’s too big a weight on my mind. I want to own him for my own. That boy is mine … Why should I disown him? I always believed one day he’d get better. He wasn’t bad all the time. He was kind and gentle except when the turns took him. Joey was never that. He was always cruel and wanting to hurt. The boy wasn’t. He was gentle. I wanted to see him well and living like a gentleman in the house. It was to have been his … You see how wicked I was.’

I was beginning to understand—piecing events and facts together—but I did not want Mrs Cherry to go on in front of the children. I was afraid she might frighten them.

The boy in the castle was not the General’s son. How could he be if he were Mrs Cherry’s grandson? The madman had come to the house before. He had found Richard’s first wife in the chapel, had raped her and given her a child … the boy.

Then why had she not denounced him? Why had they not known? But then I realized. That young girl—Magdalen was her name—was frightened of him as Angelet had been. She had been afraid to tell him. But Mrs Cherry knew and Cherry knew. They had shot him in the leg, but too late for Magdalen.

Poor girl. What must her months of pregnancy have been like, knowing who was the father of the child she was to bear … a madman.

I was watching Angelet. Was she taking it in? She was just staring at Mrs Cherry as though she were seeing her for the first time and was startled by what she saw.

‘I only wanted it for him,’ sobbed Mrs Cherry. ‘I only wanted it for the boy.’

‘Hush,’ said her husband.

‘It could have been his, couldn’t it? I was going to fight for it … When he was eighteen I was going to fight. The son he was … or so they thought … and who was to say nay to that? … Oh my God, and what’s happening to him out there? He’s out there and the soldiers are there and they hate castles … and they know this is a general’s castle … and my boy’s there … the General’s son … or so they think.’

Then she began to laugh hysterically. ‘I was going to make it come right for him. I wasn’t going to have any trouble …’ She was laughing, beginning to shriek.

I went to her and slapped her face.

She was quiet at once. Then she whispered: ‘We’re going to die … like rats in a trap we’re going to die. And that’s war … that’s what we’ve been waiting for all these months. Nobody’ll have anything and the sin lies heavy on me. I would have killed her. I got rid of it the first time, but that was easy, and I was going to get rid of it again and make the way easy for my boy. I wasn’t going to have anybody standing in his way.’

Angelet said quietly: ‘It’s all right, Mrs Cherry. I understand everything now. I’m still here, you know. I’ve as much chance as anyone. I know why you did it all. I know what happened to Magdalen … but it doesn’t matter any more.’

There was silence broken by Arabella. ‘Are you angry with Mrs Cherry?’ she asked me.

‘No, no,’ I replied.

‘She thinks you are. She’s crying.’

The silence of the tunnel was broken by the stifled sound of Mrs Cherry’s sobs.

‘It’ll soon be over,’ I said to Arabella.

‘Is it still a game?’ she asked.

‘Yes, it’s still a game.’

‘I want to play something else now.’

‘You’ll have to wait until this is finished—then we’ll see.’

She snuggled close to me and, seeing that she was satisfied, Lucas and Phoebe’s little Thomas were too.

Jesson crept silently out of the tunnel to investigate. He was soon back.

‘They’ve gone,’ he said. ‘The place is deserted, but they’ve left their mark.’

We went back into the house. The tapestries had been torn from the walls and the brass and pewter ornaments were missing. The chapel had been completely desecrated. I went up the stairs to our bedrooms. The rich hangings had been pulled down and in some cases torn into shreds, and those embroidered counterpanes which they had left were ruined.

The winery was flooded—with wine. I supposed wryly they had thought that was sinful, and though they had not drunk it themselves they had made sure that we never should. Our stores of food had been taken away. Most of the windows had been broken. I sat down on a remaining chair and cursed the stupid war.

Then I thought of Angelet and her approaching confinement. Everything we had prepared would be broken or removed. I was trying to think what we were going to do when I heard loud cries, and, hurrying down, was confronted by Grace in the kitchen.

‘It’s Mrs Cherry. She’s going fair mad. The devils have been in the castle. They’ve smashed everything to bits.’

‘And the boy and his keeper?’

‘They’re dead … both of them. It looks as though they jumped from the turret. Strawberry John would never have done that. It was certain death. I reckon the boy was trying it and John was stopping him. They’ve both lying out there. Don’t go out, mistress, and keep my lady away. ’Tis not a pretty sight.’

For a moment I felt limp, unable to plan, unable to think beyond the fact that the secret of the castle was over now and we had moved another step forward.

It was inevitable that all that had happened should have had its effect, and I wasn’t completely surprised—nor was Grace—when Angelet’s pains began and we knew that the birth was imminent.

The lying-in chamber which had been carefully prepared was reduced to a shambles, and we set about making something suitable to fit the occasion. It was not easy and Grace was disturbed. The baby was coming before its time and that was always somewhat dangerous.

It was good for us in a way to have something so important to do. I kept saying to myself: We have lost so much but we are all here …

We made Angelet lie on one of the few beds which it was possible to use and then we went in search of what we would need. We found a little bedlinen which had been overlooked and Jesson made a fire and we heated hot bricks which we wrapped in flannel to warm the beds. Everyone was pressed into service. The children were slightly bewildered, but I gave them into the charge of Phoebe and made her impress on them that we were still playing some extraordinary game which was sometimes frightening but sometimes exciting and they must do as they were told.

Fortunately the soldiers had not harmed the cows, and they had failed to penetrate some of the outbuildings like the malting house where grain and flour were stored, so we were able to get some food. Mrs Cherry had been too distraught to do anything, so Meg took her place in the kitchen and the men tried to board up the windows to prevent the cold coming in and repair the damage as much as possible.

But our great concern was Angelet, for she looked very ill indeed. The birth was not difficult, though, and within a few hours her son was born. He was puny, being almost a month premature, but he was sound in every way. Grace said we were going to find the first months difficult in rearing him, but once he’d got through them, established himself as it were, there should be nothing wrong with him.

It was Angelet who gave us cause for alarm. She was very weak and we lacked so much that we needed.

I left the baby to Grace and made my sister my concern. I would sit by her through the day and night. Now and then I would doze out of very exhaustion, but I wanted her to know that I was close. This seemed to give her some comfort and it gave me a great deal. My sins weighed heavily on me and they were none the less heavy because I knew that if I had been in the same position again I should have acted in exactly the same way.

I wished I could have explained to Angelet.

She lay still, exhausted by her ordeal, but sometimes she would smile at me, and if I moved away I would see the anxious look in her face.

Four days passed.

The baby was making some progress, and Grace said: ‘He ought to be baptized and christened. I could send Cherry or my father for a priest.’

I said she should do that.

I asked Angelet if she would like to call the baby Richard and she nodded, well pleased. So the child was christened and I called him by the endearing diminutive of Dickon.

Grace talked to me seriously: ‘Our Dickon will live. He’s gaining weight … he’s getting interested in life. But my lady … It’s been hard times for her. I don’t know if we can pull her through. There’s so much we lack. The house don’t have what it should. I knew it was going to be difficult … but if we could have got it over before them Roundheads came …’

I said firmly: ‘We’re going to get her well again. She’ll live, Grace.’

Grace looked at me as Angelet herself had so many times, suggesting that I was pitting my strength against that of God.

But it did seem as though Angelet was getting stronger. She was talking more.

She said: ‘I like to have you here, Bersaba.’

‘Of course,’ I answered. ‘My place is here.’

‘It all went wrong, didn’t it? You should have been the one who came to London. You should have met him. That would have made him happy, wouldn’t it?’

I said: ‘He is happy.’

‘You used to pride yourself on telling the truth. You always used to say “What’s the good of pretending?” You must remember that now, Bersaba. I’m glad it wasn’t you who was trying to kill me. I thought it was.’

‘You couldn’t have thought that.’

‘Yes, I did. Because I knew someone was. I ought to have remembered that first time. But I thought that was due to the shock. They convinced me that it was. But I remember now: Mrs Cherry gave me some posset. There must have been something in that to bring on my miscarriage. She knew a great deal about herbs. She loved that boy. She wanted everything for him. She was afraid if I had a healthy child it would be his father’s heir and she was going to fight with everything she had for that boy.’

‘Don’t think about it now. It’s past and done with. You have your baby. He’s doing well, Angel. He’s going to be a bonny boy. Grace says so, and Grace knows.’

‘I want to think about it. I want there to be complete understanding between us. I can see it all so clearly. Poor Magdalen! What a terrible experience for her, and it happened in the chapel and for nine months she kept that secret from him.’

‘She should have told him.’

‘She couldn’t, Bersaba. I understand. She was afraid of him, afraid it would turn him from her. I understand. I might have been the same. You are strong and so sure of yourself … You would have known what to do. But I understand … and then she died having that … creature … and he was Mrs Cherry’s grandson and she wanted everything for him. We mustn’t be hard on Mrs Cherry. It was all for love, Bersaba. We have to remember that.’

‘She was endangering your life for that …’

‘For her grandson, and I don’t think she wanted to kill me. She just wanted my child not to be born. Try to understand her, Bersaba. Let’s try to understand everything.’

‘Angel,’ I said, ‘do you remember we used to say the qualities—good and bad—were divided among us. You took all the good ones and left the bad to me.’

‘That’s not true. You’re so much more worthwhile than I am. Richard thought so … so did Luke … so will the children. Let’s be truthful. I want you to marry Richard … if he comes out of this …’

‘Richard’s wife is going to be well, and when he comes back she is going to show him their beautiful child, young Dickon, and he will then be different. Don’t forget this grim secret has been hanging over him all these years. Secrets like that warp people’s natures.’

‘Will he ever come back?’

‘This foolish war is not going to last forever.’

‘And if the Roundheads win?’

‘There’ll be some way out of it.’

‘If he comes back …’

‘When he comes back,’ I said firmly, ‘you will be here waiting for him.’

‘In his house which is little more than a ruin.’

‘You’ll stay here somehow. It can’t be long now and Richard will know what to do.’

‘And you, Bersaba?’

‘I have made up my mind. I am going home. I shall take the children with me—Arabella and Lucas, and Phoebe will bring her Thomas. We shall ride down to Cornwall to our mother. Do you doubt she will be glad to see us?’