Sarum - Edward Rutherfurd [469]
It was not said as a challenge to Edmund, just as a statement, and she shrewdly noticed that Edmund looked almost relieved.
“It is true that the farm is in your care,” he conceded.
Obadiah scowled.
“And which side do you take, sister?” Nathaniel enquired, with a glint of amusement in his eye.
“I am neuter.” This was the term the neutrals used.
“And Samuel?” Again, that faintly mocking tone. “Is he not a good Royalist?”
“I thank God he is too young to understand this folly,” she answered hotly.
Samuel. At the mention of the baby’s name, Edmund and Obadiah had looked at each other. Why did Nathaniel have to remind them of the child? Now the moment she had dreaded had come.
“Samuel.” Edmund looked thoughtful. “We must decide what is to be done with him.”
She knew there had been words spoken behind her back, but she was ready.
“He stays here with me.” She spoke with finality. “You heard our father tell me to care for him, too.”
Nathaniel said nothing. Edmund seemed to be turning the idea over in his mind. But Obadiah was looking at her coldly. She knew he suspected that she was not a true Puritan at heart.
It irked Obadiah that he had never gained any influence in the family while his father was alive. He meant to correct that now.
“Our sister is young.” He smiled at her. His smile, she thought, was always ominous. “It is not right that she should be left to care for the child alone, without some wiser hand to guide her.”
He gave his elder brother a meaningful look, which she understood at once to mean: “We must keep the child away from Nathaniel.”
She must be careful.
“I have you to guide me, Obadiah,” she said submissively, “and Edmund.”
“We may not be here,” Obadiah answered coldly.
“Where else could he go?” Edmund asked him.
“I know a preacher in London whose family will give him a godly home until these troubles are over.”
While this was going on, Nathaniel had calmly lit his pipe. Now he removed it from his mouth and observed quietly.
“The child is but two years old, brother Edmund. It has no need to be preached at yet. Besides,” he added, “if the king advances upon London there might be fighting there.”
Edmund weighed all the arguments. Then he gave his verdict.
“It was our father’s will the child stay here. He shall do so for the present. If the war comes to Sarum, then our sister can move him to a place of safety.”
It was a temporary reprieve but she was glad of it. Obadiah seemed about to protest, but Edmund, having now asserted himself once more, gave him a look that quelled further argument.
“We shall speak of this again,” Obadiah promised.
The family arguments were resolved, for the time being at least. Despite the outcome, she sensed in the brothers a feeling of relief that it was over.
And then – strangest of all, it seemed to her – the brothers calmly sat and discussed the coming war they meant to fight against each other.
“London and the east are for Parliament, of course,” Edmund remarked. These were the great Puritan and merchant strongholds.
“Don’t forget, you’ll have all the ports as well,” Nathaniel reminded him. The trading sailors of England had no love of the Stuarts whose friendship with the Catholic powers who were their trading rivals infuriated them; even now, they had not forgotten how James I had cynically executed the sailor adventurer Sir Walter Raleigh to please the Spanish ambassador. “The sailors will never forgive the Stuarts for Raleigh,” he laughed.
“The north and west will stay Royalist, I think,” Edmund said. The old feudal landlords and tenants in the countryside still believed in the sacredness of the king, whatever crimes he committed.
“And Sarum?” Margaret asked.
Like many parts of England, the situation in Sarum was complex. The town, like other cloth towns, was naturally for Parliament. Most of the local gentry were for Parliament too. Even the Seymours in the north