down and unbuckled the bridles with fingers that did not seem to want to work properly. The highwayman helped them hobble the horses nearby, then they all sat around the fire, grateful for its warmth.
Luka and Emilia could not help feeling a little scared of the highwayman, even though he had spoken to them kindly. He had taken off his big feathered hat, and in the light of the fire they could see he was a young man, long-limbed and lean, and dressed like a gentleman in a velvet coat with lace cascading over his wrists. His face was olive-skinned and bony, with hollows in the cheeks and deep-set eyes that looked to be as dark as Lukaâs.
âYou look a bit like Lady Anne,â Emilia said shyly. âAre you really her brother?â
He gave her an ironic bow, the fingers of one hand brushing the ground as he bent low. âLord Harry Morrow, at your service.â
âIf youâre a lord, why are you working the bridle lay?â Luka demanded.
âI prefer to call myself a knight of the road,â Lord Harry responded.
âRoad pirate, highwayman, whatever you want to call it, itâs not what you expect a lord to be doing,â Luka said.
âWhat else am I meant to do?â he replied bitterly. âMy estate has been stolen, my house burnt to the ground, my family are all dead . . .â
âLady Anne isnât dead,â Emilia said.
âShe is to me.â Lord Harryâs voice was hard and cold.
âBecause she wouldnât do anything to help when you were fleeing the kingâs last battle?â
âSo youâve heard the story. Which makes me very curious. Who are you, and why do you know so much about my family?â
âItâs a long story,â Luka said.
The gentleman leant back against his saddle. âIâm in no rush.â
So Luka and Emilia told him a short version of their tale, and as he listened he smoked his pipe in silence, his brows drawn close together.
âSo you say this Coldham man has been chasing you across the countryside? It seems a most unlikely tale.â
âBut itâs all true!â Luka exclaimed hotly.
âI donât necessarily disbelieve you, lad. I did, after all, find you in his coach. Iâm just wondering if thereâs not more to this than meets the eye. If my information is correct, heâs a government agent, a pursuivant, whose job it is to hunt down Catholics and Royalists. Old Ironsides has spies everywhere. Iâve heard tell he can greet a man andtell him exactly when and where he raised his glass in a secret toast to the king, when the poor man thought he was among friends.â
Luka thought about the young man at the Angel Inn. He shivered and crept closer to the fire.
Lord Harry regarded him through heavy-lidded eyes. âIâd quite like to know where your loyalties lie. Tell me, are you for the king or Parliament?â
Luka was too tired and dispirited to be tactful. âIâm for myself, my lord,â he said bluntly. âWe gypsies say, when we are dying, âBury me standing, for Iâve been on my knees all my life.â Well, itâs true. We were branded and whipped and hanged when a king sat on the throne, and thereâs no difference now a Lord Protector sits there instead, as far as I can see.â
Lord Harry frowned and examined his shabby boot.
âWell, me, Iâm for the king,â Emilia said. âThe Roundheads killed my father and took our horses, and left us with nothing. I was only a baby when the old king had his head cut off, so I donât remember what life was like back then, but I know things could hardly be worse than they are now. Maybe if the new king came back, he would have learnt some kind of lesson and rule better than his father did.â
âAnd maybe heâd be worse,â Luka pointed out.
âOh, no, heâs a great man,â Lord Harry said eagerly. âI fought with him at