I was worried about her because I knew that she was far from well and I feared that everything that had happened would be harmful to her. I even played with the idea of asking my mother to come to us, but I knew that would be impossible in view of the state of the country.

It was mid-January and in a month’s time Angelet’s child was due to be born. There was ice on the ponds and a cold wind was blowing from the north. It was not a day to be out of doors. We burned huge log fires in the main rooms, but there was no comfort in the house. Grace was preparing the lying-in chamber, although the confinement should be a month away, and Mrs Cherry shook her head and said that she dreaded the day.

I did not reprove her; as long as Angelet did not hear, Mrs Cherry’s opinion did not matter.

Jesson went out in the afternoon and came riding back soon after he left with the news that there were Roundhead soldiers in the district. They were pillaging the church some five miles away and destroying the fine ornaments and all evidence of what they called papistry.

I asked them not to tell my sister. I said: ‘It may well be that they won’t come this way, and her time being so near it is not wise to alarm her unduly.’

But I was on the alert. So was Phoebe. I told her not to leave the children and be ready to wrap them in warm things at a moment’s notice.

Then I went to the kitchen and sent for Jesson and Cherry.

I said: ‘It may be they will not come this way, but if they do, it is useless to attempt to defend the place against them. That was what happened at Longridge Farm. There is one thing we can do. We must get everyone down into the tunnel. Begin now to take food and drink there and store it. We shall be safe there until they’ve gone. We’re lucky to have such a hideaway.’

Both the men agreed that this would be our only chance.

‘We’ll be ready then,’ I said.

Darkness had fallen when we heard the shouts of the soldiers and I knew then that what we had feared so long had come to pass.

I quietly commanded Phoebe to tell the children that it was a new game we were playing and bring them down to the kitchen. The house must be in darkness, but we would take a supply of candles into the tunnel. Every one of us must go.

I went to Angelet and said: ‘The Roundheads may be here within five minutes. We are going down to the tunnel.’

‘You are the mistress of the house already,’ she replied.

‘Don’t be foolish,’ I cried. ‘You are coming down with me at once.’

I wrapped a cloak round her and we had reached the kitchen when I heard the shouts not far off.

‘Where are the children?’ cried Angelet.

‘They are here. Everybody is here.’

So we entered the tunnel between the castle and the house.

Through the night and the next day we stayed there. The children slept through the night and when they awakened at first they were excited by the new game, but we knew they would soon tire of it. When Lucas began to cry and said he didn’t want to play hide-away any more, I had to tell him that he must be quiet because it wasn’t a game. The soldiers were in the house and we were hiding from them. I saw I had to silence him even if it meant frightening him a little, for our lives depended on silence at that time.

Arabella kept close to me, more intrigued than fearful; in the candlelight her eyes were luminous with excitement and they reminded me of Richard’s.

‘Soon they’ll go away,’ I whispered, ‘and then we’ll go back to the house.’

I was more worried about Angelet than anyone. She was silent and spoke to me only when necessary. I could not endure this suspicion she had of me, implying that she believed I wanted her to die so that I could marry Richard.

I kept thinking of incidents from our childhood when we had been together and how important one had been to the other. The hardest thing I had to bear was her animosity towards me. I wanted her to lean on me, as she always had. Now she leaned away from me. I had shattered the bond between us when I had taken Richard.

I told myself that if we came through this night and day I would go right away. I would never see him again so that there would not be the temptation to act as I had. I knew that I could not explain to Angelet, for she would never understand that overwhelming passion which had beset me.

We spoke in whispers.

Then Mrs Cherry said suddenly: ‘What of the boy? What of Strawberry John? We must get them in here. The soldiers will get into the castle. They’ll break down the wall. What’ll happen to the boy! We must go through to the castle. We must bring them in here.’

Cherry said: ‘Strawberry John will take care of the boy.’

‘But the Roundheads will get him. He’s in the castle. Roundheads don’t like castles and they’ll know whose castle it is. They’ll take revenge on one of the King’s generals.’

Her fingers were plucking at her skirt and her face looked wild in candlelight. I was afraid that she was going to become so hysterical that she would endanger us all by screaming or shouting or trying to get out to the boy and Strawberry John.

Cherry tried to soothe her. ‘Now, Emmy, don’t take on. He’ll be all right.’

‘You don’t care … You shot your own son, you did. Our Joseph … You just shot him down …’

‘I had to, Emmy. Stop it, I say. I had to shoot him. You know what happened last time.’

‘You shot him in the leg then. You could have shot him in the leg again. Couldn’t you? But you shot him dead … our son … He hadn’t done anything. Perhaps he wouldn’t have. He’d just come back to see his mother. That’s all he wanted before, but he saw her in the chapel … and he was a natural man and she was there … and he just did what others have done before him …’

There was silence. Even Mrs Cherry seemed appalled by what she had said.

Then she started crying. ‘We’ll never get out of here. Those wicked men … they’ll burn down the house … They’ll burn down the castle … What’ll happen to us? The entrance will be locked. We’ll be buried alive. I want to get out of here.’

‘You’re frightening the children, Mrs Cherry,’ I said sternly. And to them: ‘It’s nothing … nothing … Mrs Cherry’s only playing.’

She was silent for a while and we were all straining our ears, but we could only hear muffled sounds.

‘We’re shut right away here,’ said Jesson.

Grace said: ‘Are you feeling all right, my lady?’ and Angelet whispered: ‘What was she saying about seeing someone in the chapel?’

‘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.’