‘I wish you had fought him, right there and then,’ whispered Philadelphia, screwing up her fists on her apron and causing it to crumple.
‘Philly...’ Carey saw she meant it and changed what he had to say. ‘It might have been a little messy. Have you ever seen a real sword fight?’
‘No, but I’ve nursed enough sword cuts. I’d nurse Lowther too, I would, nurse him good and proper.’
Carey looked away from her vehemence. ‘What was it you couldn’t tell me in your letter?’
‘Only that he has this March closed up tight in his fist. He has most of the lucrative offices and he takes the tenths of recovered cattle, not the Warden.’
Carey’s lips moved in a soundless whistle.
‘What’s left? Just the thirds from fines.’
‘What there are of them, we’ve had no justice out of Liddesdale for fourteen years. Sir John Carmichael...’
‘He’s still the Scots West March Warden?’
‘For the moment, but the rumours are he wants to resign.’
‘Wise man.’
‘He’s well enough, he’s an honest decent gentleman, too good for this country. Did you ever meet him?’
‘I think I did. Last time I was at King James’s Court he was there, I remember.’
‘He does his best, but the Maxwells and the Johnstones ignore him and the Armstrongs and Grahams...’
‘Who will bind the wind?’
‘Exactly. Old Lord Scrope held it together because towards the end he simply did what Lowther told him and let the rest go hang and Lowther kept the peace as far as it suited him.’
‘Not far?’
‘Well, it’s remarkable how often people who offend him get raided and their houses burned.’
‘Who by?’
‘Grahams or Elliots mostly, but Nixons and Crosers too.’
Carey rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb. ‘This is no restful sinecure I think,’ he said.
‘Did you think it would be?’
Carey laughed. ‘Christ, no, or I’d never have come.’
‘Don’t swear, Robin, you’re getting worse than Father.’
‘He warned me that things were rotten here, but he didn’t know the details.’
‘How would he, staying warm in London with the Queen and messing about with players.’
‘Why Philly, you sound bitter.’
She put her face in her hands.
‘John does his best in the East March but...’
‘He makes an ass of himself from time to time and the Berwick townsmen can’t stand him, I know.’
‘We need Father to run a good strong Warden’s Raid,’ said his sister ferociously, ‘burn all their towers down for them. Then they’d behave.’
Carey put his arm round her shoulders and held her tight.
‘You don’t need Father, you’ve got me, Philly my dear,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry.’
‘You won’t let him make you leave?’ She was blinking up at him with a frown.
Carey sucked wind through his teeth. ‘If the Queen orders me back to Westminster, you know I have to go.’
‘She won’t, will she?’
‘Not if we can forestall whatever Lowther writes to Burghley.’
‘You could send a letter with the Berwick men and have John put it in his usual package to London.’
‘Yes,’ said Carey, thoughtfully, ‘I’ll do that.’ He yawned. ‘I’ll do it in the morning before I go out with Dodd. There’ll be no time later, I want to inspect my men before I call a paymuster for them. And I must go to bed, Philly, or I’ll fall asleep here and you’ll have to turf Nurse out of her trundle bed and put me in it.’
Philly grinned at him. ‘Nonsense, she’d carry you down the stairs on her back and dump you with the other servants in the hall and then she’d give you a thick ear in the morning.’
