‘Then he will rule more easily than his father,’ Hester pointed out. ‘A man with no principles will not be going to war. A man without principles doesn’t argue.’

‘No,’ John said. ‘I think the heroic days are over.’

There was a little silence as they both thought of the son who could not wait to see this day, and that if he had lived to see it then even he might have thought that it lacked a little glory.

‘And what will happen to John Lambert?’ Hester asked. ‘Will they free him from the Tower before Charles Stuart arrives?’

‘They will execute him for certain,’ John said. ‘I should think General Monck can hardly wait to sign the order. Lambert is too much of a hero to the army and the people. And when the new king comes home they will be looking for scapegoats to offer him.’

‘It cannot be the end for him?’ Hester asked incredulously. ‘He has never done anything but fight for the freedom of Englishmen and women.’

‘I think it must be,’ John said. ‘It’s a bitter, bitter ending to all our hopes. A king such as Charles restored, and a man like Lambert on the scaffold.’

But that very night, John Lambert climbed from his window in the Tower, slid down his knotted sheets, dropped into a waiting barge on the Thames, and disappeared into the April darkness.

‘I have to go to him,’ John said to Hester. He was saddling up Caesar in the stable. Hester stood in the doorway, blocking his path. ‘I have to go. This is the battle that tests everything I have finally come to believe, and I have to be there.’

‘How do you know it is not a story, some ridiculous rumour?’ she demanded. ‘How d’you know he has raised a standard, is summoning an army to fight for freedom? It could be nothing more than someone’s dream.’

‘Because only John Lambert would choose Edgehill to raise his standard. And besides, if I go there, and nothing is happening, I can always ride home again.’

‘And what about me? What about me if something is happening, if a battle is happening and you are in the midst of it and you are killed? Am I to be left here to keep the rarities and the gardens safe forever, with no son and no husband?’