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  Abigail cleared her throat. “We will say nothing more on this topic for the moment. There still remains the question of Alysa’s conduct with Sir Philip Hampton.”

  It was Alysa’s turn to blush. “I did not stay out all night with Sir Philip on purpose, Mama. You must understand that we were trapped! There was nothing—”

  Abigail held up her hand. Her expression was stern now. Prudence’s transgression could not be mended. Alysa’s could. “There was everything you could have done! You could have refused to participate in Sir Philip’s mad scheme in the first place! You could have left the inn through a back door!”

  “We were afraid of being caught by Osborne’s men!” Alysa retorted, defending herself on the one charge that could be defended. “Philip was certain that Osborne was holding Prudence. It would have been madness to allow him to have a second hostage for Thomas! Moreover, if we had been caught, Osborne would have learned that Philip was no longer his ally. I do not know what would have happened to Prudence then.”

  “I would have been fine,” Prudence interjected. “Cedric would not have harmed me.”

  Abigail ignored Prudence’s interruption and concentrated on Alysa’s crimes. “I will not be placated, Alysa. The whole sordid incident could have been avoided if you had not gone to the inn. Now your reputation is in shreds and I despair of ever finding a husband for you.”

  Alysa set her jaw. “You need not worry about that, Mama. Philip will marry me.”

  “He hasn’t asked for your hand yet,” Lord Strathern growled.

  Two weeks had passed since the exchange at the Fenwick Cliffs. Two weeks in which there had been no communication between Strathern Hall and Ainslie Manor. The last Alysa had seen of Philip Hampton was his back, as he rode away at her father’s command.

  Alysa looked at her father through clear eyes. “He will, Papa. I know he will.”

  “I am not certain that I wish my daughter to be allied to a Roundhead,” Strathern said bleakly. “We are Royalists, Alysa. We have been true to our sovereign lord through the worst of times. How can you betray him now?”

  “In marrying Philip I would not be betraying the king, or my own beliefs.” A subtle triumph gleamed in Alysa’s eyes. “I would be gaining a convert for the king’s cause!”

  Abigail’s expression softened, but when she spoke it was with her usual brisk manner. “I do not think it is wise to generalize on men’s behavior, Alysa, but I cannot see you delude yourself unnecessarily. If a man has his way with a woman before marriage he loses respect for the lady in question. Furthermore, he no longer needs to endow his hand on her in marriage.”

  “Philip is not like that!” Alysa said fiercely, although butterflies were busily at work in her stomach. Over the past fortnight she had told herself too many times that Philip loved her and would marry her. She had reassured herself that although her reputation might be in shreds, her future was not in doubt. Each day it had become harder to believe and her protestations sounded weak even to her own ears.

  Once again Abigail’s expression softened. This time she said quite gently, “My dear, I can see that your heart is involved and I am truly sorry. This is a hard lesson for you to learn. Lessons such as these are difficult, all the more so when one wants to believe passionately that they are not true.”

  “Mama, Papa, I beg of you, do not give up on Sir Philip so easily! He will ask for my hand in marriage. I know he will! He has promised me!”

  Abigail shot a look at Lord Strathern, who turned away. Alysa felt her heart give a sudden, painful lurch. What if they were right? What if Philip didn’t love her and wasn’t about to marry her?

  Then she reminded herself of his words of love that night at the inn, of the way he had risked his life and his future for her at the Fenwick Cliffs, and she wondered how she could ever have doubted him. Her head went up proudly and her eyes were defiant.

  Abigail said gently, “As hard as this is for you, Alysa, we must plan what to do in the event that he does not ask you to marry him. First there is the matter of a child—”

  “A child!”

  Abigail nodded, brisk once more. “There is always that possibility. If you are with child we will send you to live with my aunt in Yorkshire. She will take care of you and her house is sufficiently remote that your condition will not be remarked upon. The baby can be given to a local family to raise.”

  Alysa’s eyes kindled. “There will be no need of that, Mama. If I am with child, Philip will marry me.”

  “He will not be given the opportunity.” Strathern’s voice was heavy, but firm. “The man must ask for you of his own free will. I will have no hand in a forced marriage.”

  “Papa! I would rather have him because he must marry me, than not have him at all!”

  “You do not know what you are speaking of, Alysa,” her father said gruffly. “A lifetime tied to a man who does not want you is an eternity of regret.”

  Alysa leapt to her feet. “Better than an eternity spent pining for the man you love and cannot have!”

  “Sir Philip Hampton.” The butler’s deep voice cut into Alysa’s passionate outburst and silenced her. It also silenced everyone else in the room. For a moment all were still. The only movement was the servant standing aside to allow Philip to enter the room.

  At the sight of him, Alysa’s face lit up. She turned to her father, her eyes sparkling with triumph, and not a little relief. “You see?”

  Strathern looked at her from beneath his brows, then went forward to greet their guest. “Good day to you, Sir Philip.”

  Philip bowed. He was dressed in a plain, well-made doublet of dark blue cloth and his black breeches lacked the froth of ribbon loops that would adorn a Royalist’s clothes. “And to you, Lord Strathern. May I have a moment of your time, privately?”

  Strathern nodded. Prudence slid past the two gentlemen, glad to be released from a further, more uncomfortable interview. Abigail followed her. As she passed Philip, she shot him a curious look, but she merely nodded politely and wished him good day.

  Reluctantly, Alysa also prepared to leave, but her father stopped her. “I believe you are the reason Sir Philip has come today. Please stay with us, daughter.”

  Alysa nodded and smiled into Philip’s eyes. He took her hand and kissed it with an elegant flourish. “Indeed, my lord, you are quite correct. I have come to ask for Mistress Alysa’s hand in marriage.”

  Strathern made an indecipherable sound in his throat as he watched his daughter and Philip Hampton together. There could be no doubt that Alysa was deeply in love with Sir Philip, and although Lord Strathern believed Philip Hampton to be a just and honest man, he could not forget that the younger man had fought for Parliament during the war and had given his loyalty to Oliver Cromwell. It was difficult for Lord Strathern to accept that his daughter would choose a Roundhead as her lifemate, but the evidence was there before his eyes.

  Now what he had to do was make sure that the man she had chosen would treat her properly, at this moment and throughout their time together. “I trust, sir, that you are prepared to set aside a part of your estate for my daughter’s use as her marriage portion?”

  Philip looked surprised; then his eyes narrowed. With amusement, Alysa thought. She said hastily, “Papa, should I be a party to this? I mean, after all—”

  “It is always wise for a woman to know her rights,” Strathern said tranquilly. “Please sit down, Sir Philip, and you, Alysa. I do believe this will be a lengthy discussion.”

  Numbly, Alysa sat. Philip was careful to choose a place away from her and opposite Lord Strathern, so that he could look his future father-in-law in the eye while they negotiated.

  The bargaining lasted an hour. During that time the amount of Alysa’s dowry, her widow’s portion, funds to be settled directly on her children, and other financial matters were hammered out by the two men. Alysa listened, a little dazed at the details, but well aware that her father was acting in her best interests. Moreover, Philip was as gen
erous with the amounts he bestowed upon her as his estate would allow, indicating that his feelings toward her could not be anything but warm.

  At the end of the financial discussion Lord Strathern nodded approval before saying, “There remains one matter to be settled.”

  Philip stiffened. “If you are referring to the night Alysa and I spent at the inn—”

  Strathern’s eyebrows rose. “In truth, I was not. Although that is an incident in which I feel your judgment, sir, was seriously impaired.”

  “If Alysa and I had tried to leave the inn she would have been in as much jeopardy as Prudence was.” Philip’s eyes flashed as he made the statement, but his tone was even. “I did not take her there with the express intention of harming her in any way.”

  “Had I believed you did, Sir Philip, I would not allow you to marry my daughter, for any reason.”

  Somewhat mollified, Philip nodded. “The only other topic that might hinder my suit, then, is my affiliation with the Lord Protector.”

  “You are quite correct, sir.” Strathern’s expression was grave. “I fear your actions the other day will not endear you to the authorities in London.”

  Philip’s lips twisted wryly. “You are quite correct, Lord Strathern. Osborne returned to London and did his best to blacken my name. However, I have friends whose influence outweigh his, especially since he was not able to fulfill his mission. Officially, my refusal to participate in a kidnapping and ransom have been lauded as evidence of my high moral fiber. As I have made it known that I do not plan to return to the army, but will live quietly at Ainslie, no one is inclined to punish me. You need have no fear that bestowing Alysa’s hand in mine will place her in any danger.”

  Strathern shot him a hard look from under his brows. “That is satisfactory for the present, but what happens when the king returns?” At Philip’s surprised expression he added softly, “He will return, sir, and we both know it. The Commonwealth is dying of its own weight. Either a new republic of fanatics will be formed or we will return to the old ways, but with a new, young king to lead us. Which would you prefer?”

  Philip did not take his eyes off Lord Strathern. He said slowly, “You place me in a difficult position. If I tell you that I would gladly espouse young Charles as our king, would you believe me?”

  “Yes,” Strathern said simply, “if you gave me your word of honor that that was your true belief.”

  “You have my word that it is,” Philip said steadily. “I joined the parliamentary army full of idealistic fervor to fight a monarch who had lost touch with the needs of the common people of England and the rights of all her citizens. Then the war ended and our new government became, over time, as arbitrary as the old. I owed much to the Lord Protector Cromwell. I gave him my loyalty long ago and I kept my oath to him until he died. But my true allegiance is to England. Richard Cromwell is not the man his father was and he is proving daily that he is not able to govern this nation. If we must have an hereditary ruler, then it should be one born of the rightly anointed line.”

  Fixing Philip with a stare that sought to see into his soul, Lord Strathern said, “Well spoken, Hampton. I am satisfied that you will make a suitable husband for my daughter.” He smiled, almost mischievously, as he stood. “Now all you have to do is persuade Alysa to accept your proposal. I shall leave you alone together to discuss the question.”

  As the door closed quietly behind him, Alysa looked over at Philip and smiled tremulously. “Papa told me earlier that a marriage made because the partners felt duty bound to agree to it was one of eternal regret. I must ask you now, Philip, if you have asked for my hand because you feel you must, or because you wish to be betrothed to me? I pray you, answer me as honestly as you answered my father about your political beliefs.”

  Philip came to sit close beside her. He took her hands and held them in his, his thumbs rubbing the soft skin on the backs. “When I was young I told myself I would never marry a Royalist woman. I had seen them at court, so smooth and sweet on the surface, but full of venom and fury on the inside. Their very polish made them too conniving for any man to believe in. I thought a straightforward, trustworthy woman of the Puritan persuasion would be much more to my taste. A lady who was serious and thoughtful and would never make me wonder whom she was with or what she was planning.”

  He smiled ruefully. “In time, I discovered that a Puritan woman could be as deceitful as a Royalist one. And so I learned that I must look at the individual and see what she was made of before I judged her. When I came here I was not looking for an emotional entanglement. But I found one and I do not regret it. You are a woman of spirit, intelligence, guile and charm, Alysa Leighton. You are the perfect woman for me, the woman I love. I would not change you and I cannot live without you.”

  Alysa smiled and moved closer to him. “Philip, I am a Royalist. I always will be. What happens if the Protectorate continues and you wish to return to the Lord Protector’s court?”

  “I have made my decision, sweet lady. I am finished with the Protectorate. I will not return to London, except to visit now and again.” He smiled tenderly. “Besides, this is not about politics, but about us. I love you, Alysa. Do you love me?”

  A smile trembled on her lips and her eyes filled with tears of emotion. “Oh, yes. I love you with all of my heart, Philip.”

  “Then you will marry me.”

  He made it a statement, but Alysa answered as if it were a question. “Yes. Oh, yes.”

  Chapter 20

  May, 1660

  All over London church bells tolled joyously. The city was festive with new hope for the future, for the king was returning. The long years of the Commonwealth were over.

  Thousands of people came in from the country to join in the celebrations, to greet returning family members or to remind the newly returned monarch of their loyalty through the extended period of adversity. King Charles had been heard to remark wryly that if the Stuarts had had as many friends in England as was claimed, his father would never have lost his throne and he would not have spent ten years in exile. Despite this cynicism, Charles was gracious to all those who came before him. Compromise was the rule of the day for king and subject alike.

  Lord Strathern and his family journeyed to London, more to see Thomas than to join in the festivities. The purpose of their visit was certainly not to petition the monarch for a return of the lands lost as a result of the war. To Strathern’s mind, the family had much to be thankful for. Thomas was safely home once again and Alysa was truly happy in her marriage. His only worry was Prudence, who continued to be infatuated with Cedric Ingram, even though he was being shunned by the people of West Easton.

  The rooms they had rented were on the first floor of a timber frame house that jutted out over the street at a crazy angle. Beneath their windows they could hear the constant noise of traffic and the loud, often drunken voices of revelers. As annoying as these outside sounds were, Strathern was glad to get the rooms, which consisted of three bedchambers and a private parlor, an almost unheard-of luxury in the capital during these festive times. Thus it was that Lord Strathern was able to invite his son to a private dinner several days after the family had first gotten together at a public ordinary.

  During that first meeting there had been some constraint between Thomas and Philip, but Thomas was rapidly learning the art of compromise and Philip had long ago been taught the skill. Once Thomas saw that his sister was happy in her marriage, he was willing to accept Philip as part of the family. Now, with the restraint between his son and son-in-law mended, Strathern was able to preside at a table where his whole family sat in harmony. It was as much a cause for rejoicing as the return of the king. Perhaps more so.

  Conversation flowed freely as the various courses were brought and enjoyed. A dish of pigeons was followed by a plate of carp and a boiled capon. The main dish was a joint of beef, roasted upon the spit. Several bottles of fine claret enhanced the meal, and by the time a sweet fruit tart was brought, any las
t constraint that might have lingered between Roundhead and Royalist was long gone.

  Lord Strathern had ordered a well-aged brandy to end the special meal, and as he poured the glasses, Thomas slid a speculative glance at him. “Papa, were charges ever laid against you for your defiance of Sir Edgar Osborne?”

  “I am told that Osborne attempted to charge me with treason,” Strathern said somberly. “I have no other indication of it, for Sir Edgar was unable to make the accusation stick. It seems that his inability to complete his mission put him at some disadvantage. His word was not enough to convince his masters that my actions were those of a traitor and not a man justly outraged at a crime against him.” He looked over at Philip. “I must thank Philip for using his influence to ensure that few accepted Osborne’s version of events.”

  Thomas said with some relief, “Then I have no need to speak to the king on your behalf.”

  A small, rather tender smile touched Strathern’s mouth and was gone. “None, though I thank you for the offer. I am delighted His Majesty has returned, but I am a free man, I do not want a place at court and I do not expect to have my lands returned to me. My family is together again. That is all I care about.”

  Thomas toyed with the food on his plate, then said cautiously, “There is one other matter I believe we must discuss before we finish with that time.”

  “What could that be?” Alysa asked curiously.

  “Cedric Ingram,” her brother said flatly. “The king received a petition from him today.”

  “From Ingram? What for?” Strathern demanded sharply.

  “He claimed to be a loyal Royalist whose fortunes have been adversely affected by the years of Roundhead rule.”

  “Is he demanding compensation?”

  Thomas nodded, smiling at the indignation on his father’s face. “Of a sort. He wants a place at court.”

  There was a shocked silence; then Prudence asked slowly, “Will he get it?”

  “Probably. Ingram’s brother, the Earl of Easton, went into exile with the king and the family is tied by blood to some of the most powerful magnates in the country. His Majesty knows what Cedric did, but he does not want to antagonize the old nobility so early in his reign. He will find a place for Cedric where he can do no damage.”