Read Online The Sparks Fly Upward by Diana Norman - Free Book Online Page A

those from the front windows of the house.
    Philippa met her mother’s eyes. ‘Block the archway,’ she murmured.
    Makepeace nodded. ‘Stop in the archway, Sanders. Block it.’
    â€˜Right y’are, missus.’
    There was no time to consult, they were turning in, had stopped. ‘Open your door,’ Makepeace said, opening hers until its jamb scraped the gatehouse wall. ‘You two get out your side, Jenny stand, Pippy get ’em in.’ She leaned from the angled window and raised her voice. ‘Safe home now, lads, thank you.’
    â€˜Reckon us’ll see you up to the house,’ the leading constable said.
    Philippa pushed Jenny out. ‘Stay there.’ Jenny’s skirts would cover the gap between the carriage door and the ground should any of the lawmen dismount and be in a position to look through it. She flattened herself, squeezed past and came out onto the drive.
    And there they were; two shapes caught in Sanders’s lamps, crouched and blinking in the center of the lawn like a couple of hideous ornaments. She began gesticulating for them to run towards her but they were confused and she had to go to them. ‘Get in the carriage and lie down. Quickly.’
    She could hear her mother bantering with the men in the roadway, offering them liquid refreshment, which, presumably, was what they’d delayed for in the first place. She teased them. ‘But I suppose you ain’t allowed to drink on duty.’
    By the time the denials occasioned by that remark had died down, Beasley and his companion had wormed their way into the bottom of the carriage. Philippa shut the door on them.
    â€˜How’s that wheel now, Sanders?’ Makepeace called.
    â€˜Stay on a bit longer, I reckon.’
    â€˜Get on then.’
    Philippa took her half sister’s arm and together they walked up the drive as if enjoying the night’s freezing air, slowing down the cavalcade coming politely behind them.
    Hildy had heard their approach and opened the front door on to the steps where Makepeace was already alighting and giving orders. ‘Off to the coach house with you, Sanders, and see to that wheel. Ale for four, Hildy. You lads can come into the hall for your drink, but take your damn boots off.’
    Nobody paid attention to Philippa and Jenny as they followed the carriage around to the side of the house where an arch in the wall led to the coach and stable yard.
    Jenny was patting her heart. ‘I nearly swooned. How did you know what to do?’
    â€˜Practice. Living with Ma you get used to it.’
    â€˜That you do,’ Sanders said.
    Both exaggerated for old-times’ sake—apart from aiding the group of Beasley’s friends who’d wanted to escape to France, Makepeace had spent the last five years in law-abiding grief.
    Beasley and his companion were too tired and too cold to talk. Stumbling, they followed Jenny and Philippa around to the kitchen yard and in through the back door. The large kitchen was empty and lit only by the glow of the fire banked down for the night. Beside it, a kettle stood on a trivet. A cloth covered half a goose and some ham. The women immediately started preparing food.
    The man with Beasley sat down at the table and put his head on it.
    Beasley slouched in a corner. ‘You’ve grown a fine pair of bubbies since I saw you last,’ he said to Jenny. Jenny blushed.
    â€˜Don’t you start that,’ Philippa told him. He was especially graceless when frightened, but if he’d been scared so had she and Jenny.
    Makepeace came in from the hall passage, her fingers entwined through tankard handles. ‘They’ve gone. Hildy’s upstairs preparing the beds in the attic.’ She looked without warmth at Beasley. ‘Well?’
    â€˜Didn’t know where else to go.’
    â€˜To hell would have been a good idea,’ she told him. ‘What is it this time?’
    â€˜Meet Tom