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child, amazed. “You shot a Roundhead trooper?” she said.
    Autumn nodded.
    “God’s blood!” the dowager duchess exclaimed. “I remember a time when my grandmother did a similar deed to save my life, and that of my children. ’Twas a brave act, as was yours. I am proud of you!”
    “Surely, Mama, you do not condone murder,” the Marquis of Westleigh said, shocked at what his sister had done. This fact his brother had omitted when telling him the tragic tale earlier.
    “The man was scum and had murdered both Bess and a trusted servant,” the dowager duchess said. “Autumn was protecting herself, for who knows what this Sir Simon Bates would have done otherwise. The fact that he accepted responsibility for the trooper’s death shows my daughter proved to this villain that she is a strong girl, and not to be taken advantage of by any!”
    “Sir Simon Bates is known to be totally ruthless. What if he holds the death of this man over Autumn, over the family?” Henry said in worried tones.
    “How can he?” Autumn spoke up. “The only people in the hallway of the house were the trooper, Sir Simon, and myself. What proof could he possibly offer for my act? I am but an innocent and unmarried maiden, and certainly incapable of such a terrible deed. If we should ever see Sir Simon again, and he accused me, I should believe he was attempting to extort moneys from us, as we are known to be a wealthy family. Or perhaps the threat of such a tale would be an attempt to force me into marriage with him. A wealthy, well-connected wife could not harm Sir Simon’s future when the king is restored to his kingdom. Particularly a wife whose brother is the king’s first cousin.” Autumn smiled sweetly at her astounded relatives, but her mother laughed.
    “You are quick, my child,” she said with a chuckle. She turned to Henry. “You fret too much, my dear. Autumn is perfectly correct. There is no proof that she killed that trooper, and no other witnesses than herself and this Sir Simon Bates. I expect he is still in a bit of a shock that a slip of a girl could be so brave, and remember, he did give her his weapon and encourage her to dispatch Bess’s murderer. He’ll say nothing, I assure you all. And now, Charlie”—she looked directly at her second son—“what are you about?”
    “I have closed Queen’s Malvern up and I am taking my children to Glenkirk. Then I will declare for the king, Mama.” He stood before the fireplace, legs apart, his hands upon his hips in a gesture of defiance.
    Jasmine sighed deeply. “Of course you will, Charlie. You are Henry Stuart’s son, and but for an accident of birth would have been England’s king. You have attempted to remain neutral in this strife. But you can no longer be undecided, and Cromwell’s ilk has forced your hand. I understand, my son. I am not happy about this turn of events, but I do understand. You can do nothing else now. But why take the children to Scotland?”
    “Because left here, they would endanger Henry and his family. Cromwell’s people have not hesitated to use children as pawns. We cannot forget poor little Princess Elizabeth, imprisoned in Carisbrooke Castle, who has only recently died because these godly Puritans did not properly care for the poor girl. Nay, Charlie’s children will be safer, and more than likely forgotten, at Glenkirk.”
    “And when his in-laws come calling, which they will,” Henry asked, “what the hell are we to say to them?”
    “You will lie, Henry,” his mother instructed him, “and say you do not know where your niece and nephews are. You will admit that Charlie came here, but you will say you know not where he was going, for he refused to tell you, fearing to endanger your family. It is a small lie, and a perfectly plausible explanation. The Earl of Welk has neither power nor the funds to pursue the matter. Common sense will tell him the children are safe in their father’s care. He may bluster and blow, but