Doctor Who_ The Roundheads - Mark Gatiss [104]
‘With a foreign army?’ interrupted Whyte. ‘A Catholic army?’
Rupert stepped forward to reprimand him but Charles held up his hand. ‘What ails you, sir?’
Whyte sighed and began to tug at his gloves. ‘I mean no offence, Your Majesty. But surely we have fought these wars to preserve the lifeblood of the Church of England, not to taint it with Popish mercenaries.’
Charles gazed levelly at him. It was a fair point, of course, and one put to him many times these past few, bitter years. He had lost many loyalists because of it and his intractable defence of his beloved wife’s religion.
‘Mr Whyte,’ he said at last, in a low, grave whisper,
‘rather than lose my throne to these r-rebels I would come to terms with the devil himself!’
Polly ran at full pelt across the room and Ben caught her in his arms. She tried to swing him round but was too exhausted.
‘Duchess!’ he cried joyfully. ‘Oh, love. Are you OK?
What’s been happening?’
Polly practically crushed the young sailor in her embrace.
‘Too much to tell you,’ she said happily.
The Doctor and Jamie greeted Ben too and then the Doctor turned to face Scrope, Thurloe, and Cromwell.
‘I appear to have done you an injustice, Doctor,’ said the general with a smile.
‘Not half the injustice I have done Master Scrope,’ said the Doctor, reaching out to shake the saltpetre man’s hand. ‘It seems you really are engaged on state business.’
‘Of the highest order,’ said Thurloe. ‘Even if his... er modus operandi is a little eccentric.’
Scrope patted his filthy hair. ‘No one bothers a man who reeks like me!’ he said merrily. ‘But let us to the matter at hand. We know that Prince Rupert is in London and has brought a Dutchman here.’
‘For what purpose?’ asked the Doctor.
Thurloe shrugged. ‘That is what we must ascertain and you, Mistress Polly, must furnish us with an answer.’
Polly freed herself from Ben’s embrace. ‘Me?’
‘Aye,’ said Cromwell. ‘Were not you in the thick of these conspirators, albeit against your will?’
Polly shook her head. ‘But I don’t know anything about their plans or their organisation, only...’
She trailed away. Thurloe leaned forward eagerly. ‘Only?’
‘Only that they met at the inn where Ben and I went that first morning. They may only have hired the room but it’s the one place of theirs I know.’
Thurloe clapped his hands. ‘Excellent! We must not lose a moment.’
The Doctor nodded. ‘I’ll come with you, Polly.’
She smiled and squeezed his hand. ‘Thank you.’
‘And I,’ said Scrope. ‘If you’ll give me a few moments.’
The strange old man dashed from the room, leaving them all somewhat bewildered.
The night had turned bitterly cold, an arctic wind blasting the old city like some primal force let loose on the world.
There was no new snow yet, but everyone could sense it in the air, ready to cover the frosty cobbles, making them even more treacherous to the few souls who dared to venture out.
Those who did huddled themselves up, clutching their tall hats tightly to their heads and swathing themselves in layers of extra clothing.
The wind picked up and whistled down the alley where stood Kemp’s inn, the place seeming like the only house occupied and merry, its patrons determined to forget their troubles and the weather in a pint of foaming ale.
The sign above the World Turn’d Upside Down swung wildly as the Doctor, Polly, and Scrope stole inside.
All three stood on the threshold for a moment, shivering and stamping as they became used to the blaze from the fire and the sudden tug of human warmth. The Doctor blew into his hands and turned to Scrope.
To everyone’s astonishment, the old man had returned transformed. Quick ablutions had taken away the cake of dirt that had covered his skin, revealing a face that now seemed far more wise and noble. His hair was brushed back from his high forehead and he was dressed in neat black livery from head to toe. Altogether he