Free Gideon's Angel by Clifford Beal Page A

again.
    Arabella had crossed her arms, still watching me as I picked my way down the rutted gulley of a path. “Good bye!” she mouthed.
    It was time to visit my brother William. Perhaps from him I could find answers for the hurt done here, if not solace. I rode back to Plympton and stopped at the first tavern I spied in St. Maurice. From there, I sent by the taverner’s son a brief scribbled message to Sir William Treadwell, who I hoped was at home at the old house a mile north of town. I asked him to meet me with all haste on important business concerning an old shared acquaintance. I signed it “Andreas Falkenhayn, recently arrived of France”. And then I waited. I waited in the tap room watching the pale sun sink lower as the afternoon wore on.
    At last, I saw the taverner’s son return and close behind, there was William. He pulled off his hat and swept back his long grey hair, his eyes searching about the room. I saw the lad point me out, sitting where I was, back to the wall. Still, William had not recognised me. He walked across the room, winding his way around the benches and stools until he stood before me.
    “You have business with me, sir?” I looked up and watched as it dawned on him who I was. His mouth fell open and for an instant he was frozen in his place. “Sweet Jesus! My sweet Jesus!”
    I pulled him down next to me on the bench. “Hush, brother!” I hissed. “Do not give the game away.”
    He exhaled loudly and tossed his hat upon the table. “Have you gone quite mad? Why have you come? No, please... my heart sings to see you alive. I’m sorry.”
    “I will tell all, William, but not here.”
    We left and crossed the road, cutting through the churchyard and walking past the old barbican to the ruins of the ancient castle of Plympton Erle, following the foot path up the old motte. William had aged since we had last met, years ago. I knew that he had lost his seat in Parliament shortly after I had been exiled. I thought of all the fights we had had over the years, he for the Parliament while I stayed with the king. Now, he too was out of favour in this new world.
    “I cannot believe it still,” he huffed as we walked uphill, his stick stabbing into the soft pungent earth. “Why have you risked your life to come back here? Have you forgotten your sentence?”
    I had not forgotten. Nor had I forgotten how William had loyally given me counsel during my trial. I would have been executed—suffering a traitor’s death—had he abandoned me to the wolves. Yet I could not reveal all to him, not yet. “I had to see Arabella and the children again. That’s the truth of it. And to see England again.”
    He stopped and looked at me. “Do I look like some calf-headed sot? You’ve shown precious little concern until this moment. You can’t cozen me. You’re rampant in some intrigue; I would stake a wager on it... You pitiful goddamn fool.”
    “Very well, then. I’ve been here but two days and seen more than enough. The country is gone to ruin. No work, no money, and men not free to speak their minds without fear of having their tongues bored through. And I’ve seen my home—and Arabella.”
    My brother shook his head in disbelief. “You’re indeed a fool. That was a selfish prank, Richard. How could you have acted so rashly? If you’ve been seen, it is she who will bear the consequences.”
    “She has already borne the consequences! I have seen she is with child! Tell me you did not know she had been violated, brother.”
    He looked at his shoes, wordless.
    “Tell me why you couldn’t stop that? Or stop the house from being sold. Tell me!”
    William started walking forward again, his head down. “She concealed the pregnancy from me until but a fortnight ago. I swear to you I’ve watched out for her. But she refused to leave the property she yet held. Your house and land was sequestered and sold before I could raise a hand. It was arranged quickly. You do not know how sorry I am for