The Forest - Edward Rutherfurd [243]
Jim returned just after he awoke and told him about the message from Dame Alice. Stephen had no more idea than his son what this might be about, but agreed that if Dame Alice wanted him, he should certainly go.
At their insistence, he remained with Jim and his wife until early evening.
The lengthening shadows were providing a pleasant coolness under the blue August sky by the time Stephen Pride made his way slowly along the edge of Beaulieu Heath towards Oakley; and he had just passed the path that led across to Boldre church when he caught sight of a figure a little way ahead. It was a lone, mounted woman, quite motionless, gazing out across the heath, apparently unaware of his approach. Only as he drew close, and she turned to look at him, did he realize it was Betty Lisle.
She greeted him affectionately. ‘I’m waiting for my cousin Peter Albion,’ she explained.
She had been at Albion House since early afternoon. Rather than risk a confrontation, she had finally decided to tell her mother she was going for a ride in this direction; that way she could meet Peter without interference and return with him to Moyles Court in the evening.
Her mother had raised no objection to her ride and she had arrived at Albion House in good time; but there had been no sign of Peter. All afternoon she had waited at the house but at last, unable to bear it any longer, she had told the servants to keep her cousin there if he turned up from the Lyndhurst road and had gone out to the edge of the heath to watch, in case he decided to cut across that way. She was glad to see Stephen; at least she could talk to him and take her mind off her vigil.
Stephen was interested to hear about this cousin. He knew the Albions well enough to understand at once who Peter was. He told Betty that he could even remember seeing the young man’s grandfather, Francis, once when he had been a boy.
‘I meant to return with him to Moyles Court this evening,’ she told him. ‘If he doesn’t come soon, I don’t know what I should do. Go back without him, I suppose.’
Pride told her next about the message Dame Alice had sent to Jim.
This puzzled her. ‘As my mother knew I was coming this way, I’d have thought she’d have asked me to carry the message,’ she remarked. ‘I didn’t see any groom go off. Still,’ she added, ‘I suppose it’s something to do with the men who are coming to the house this evening.’ And she told Pride briefly of the stranger who’d been brought to Moyles Court three days before.
Soon after this, Pride went upon his way.
William Furzey waited quietly. The shadows cast by the departing sun had merged into a general orange glow and then into brownness. The mist was spreading in ghostly patches all over the meadows. The Avon valley had entered a slow summer gloaming as the first stars appeared over the Forest in a pale turquoise sky.
He saw them now: three horsemen, coming quietly through the mists towards him.
George Furzey couldn’t help it. It was more than he could bear. He put his two hands between his knees and rocked back and forth for joy, murmuring: ‘Oh my. Oh my.’
In the east, the first faint stars were just appearing. Had the horsemen come to William by now? Possibly. Had Jim Pride left on his fool’s errand? Any time now. Furzey had been so excited he couldn’t stay in his cottage. He’d come out into the warm evening, found a fallen birch tree by the edge of the heath and sat there, gazing with rapture at the beauty of the sky. He rocked himself again. ‘Oh my.’
And this was how Stephen Pride found him as he arrived, rather weary after his long day, back at Oakley. ‘Well,’ he remarked, ‘you’re looking cheerful