As Grizel’s hands fell away, she squared her shoulders. Įvidently they felt certain they would not leave this place empty-handed. But to come this far into the Lancashire wilderness, with so very many men. Since the riots at Oxford, the government had recalled the old act, passed before the Civil War, that allowed the king’s agents to search any house suspected to harbor traitors. “So many?” Nora cast her mind back to the letter she had received last week. She caught three distinct timbres, and then a fourth. Low voices rose on the cool night breeze, impossible to discern. And leave the window open.”Īs she impatiently submitted to Grizel’s nimble hands, she heard the household stirring back to life. King’s riders, approaching by night with no message sent ahead to announce them: the only conclusion was that they meant to take the household by surprise. “King’s riders, my lady,” she said over her shoulder. The next second, the maid crossed to open the window. Thank God for it: they had worn her to the bone. Her brother had finally returned, and she could surrender his cares to his own keeping. For a moment her heart swelled with relief: David, she thought. Nora was sitting at her dressing table, her maidservant Grizel braiding her hair for bed, when she heard hoofbeats on the road without.
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