Cave of Secrets Read Online Free PDF Page B

grandson of Mary, Queen of Scots, and King of Great Britain and Ireland, was a slightly built man. He had a Scottish accent and a stammer that his portraits did not reveal.
    In her sanctuary Elizabeth often sat in a window embrasure like a princess in a tower, watching for a prince to come riding to her rescue. Her prince never came. But one morning she did notice her brother riding away from Roaringwater House. Tom was cantering along on the rubbishy stick horse their father had given him. And he was singing. Thewords drifted back to the watcher in the window. ‘ Come and take a ride with me upon my magic pony …’
    Dreams and fancies, Elizabeth thought bitterly. No good can come of that.
    As far back as she could remember, her father had chased one dream after another. Very few of them came true. Only Roaringwater House. And soon, this awful marriage. Elizabeth envied Tom. Boys had it all, they could do anything they liked. No one cared about women’s dreams.
    ‘I’m being traded like a carriage horse, and I hate it,’ Elizabeth complained to Virginia later that day.
    ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Lizzie. What’s so bad about marrying a man who has money? If I had money I could go to Paris to paint and no one would stop me. Everyone needs money, even the king. He imposes more and more taxes because he has to pay the debts left from his wars with France and Spain. And the uprising in Scotland is costing him another fortune.’
    ‘How do you know about all that, Ginny?’
    Her sister was exasperated. ‘Sugar and cream! Am I the only person in this house who ever listens ?’
    ‘Listens to what? Father never talks about anything but politics.’ Elizabeth made a face. ‘And politics is so boring.’
    Virginia put her fists on her hips and shook her head at her sister. ‘If you had the wit to pay attention to Father, you would realise that politics affect everything, Caro. And that includes you.’

    * * *
    Politics had no place in Tom’s mind that summer of 1639. On any day when the weather was fair he went riding on his hobby-horse. He no longer sneaked away but marched boldly out the door, carrying his stick mount under his arm. After circling the house a time or two to make certain he was seen playing with his silly toy, he would gallop off. He abandoned the hobby-horse as soon as he was out of sight. It would remain hidden under a furze bush until he returned home. It had proved a good enough decoy, after all. The servants made jokes about his latest game. As soon as he was out of sight they forgot about him.
    When Tom reached the cliff he would take off his shoes and stockings and roll up his breeches. Going barefoot was painful at first, but after a few days he could walk – even climb over rocks – without wincing.
    Donal was often waiting for him at the cove with Maura. Although they never said so, Tom suspected they were as lonely for the company of other children as he was. If they did not appear he could spend hours watching the ever changing spectacle of the bay. Sometimes the water was cobalt blue. Or emerald green. Or even a clear, brilliant turquoise colour, streaked with royal purple.
    He threw pebbles at seagulls. Searched for interestingshells to collect for Maura. Lay on his back on the beach, gazing into the bottomless sky. Watching white-sailed galleons race before the wind. The ceaseless wind that blew over Roaringwater Bay.
    One warm, muggy day Tom waded into the surf. The cold water swirling around his legs was wonderfully refreshing. He went farther out. Water to his hips. To his waist. Delicious .
    Until a breaker swept him off his feet and into a roil of sand and stones and shells and seawater. As soon as he could stand up again he headed thankfully for the shore. Halfway there he stopped. Looked back at the water. He was wet anyway. Why not try?
    Cautiously, Tom waded deeper. How do animals swim? Head above the water. Paddle with the front legs, kick with the back legs.
    He took a deep