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When I left Cowdray, I severed all ties with my family. I thought it best to put that part of my life behind me.’
    Tom looked down at the inscription again. ‘But why? I don’t understand.’
    She furrowed her brow. ‘It’s complicated. Now is not the time for explanations.’
    â€˜But if you haven’t seen him for all these years, how do you know he’ll want to help us?’
    â€˜I don’t. But’ – her eyes took on a faraway look – ‘I was always his favourite sister. He used to call me his own dearNan. I pray God that in spite of the trouble that has passed between us, he will take pity on us now.’
    â€˜But even if he agrees, what can he do? Father’s broken the law. If they catch him with the priest, they’ll hang him for sure.’ Tom chewed on his lip, trying desperately to stifle more tears.
    His mother sat up straight and jutted out her chin. ‘Listen to me, Tom.’ Her eyes shone back at him. ‘My brother Montague is a rich and powerful man. In spite of the fact he is a Catholic, the King still counts him a friend.’
    Tom gasped. ‘The King?’
    She nodded. ‘Your uncle is a nobleman. He moves in the highest circles. If anyone can save your father, he can.’
    â€˜But—’
    Footsteps echoed down the passageway outside. His mother looked quickly over her shoulder. ‘We’re running out of time.’
    Tom bit his lip. There was so much he wanted to ask her. But she was relying on him. He couldn’t let her down. ‘What do you want me to do?’
    â€˜Go to the Fosters. Jem Foster knows where Cowdray lies and his wife will look after Edward. They are good people and I’m sure when they hear what has befallen us, they will help. You know their house, down near the harbour?’
    He nodded.
    â€˜Good. Now, quickly.’ She jerked her head at the prayer book. ‘Hide the book. Only bring it out again when you reach Cowdray and have found your uncle. If he doubtsyour story, it will help prove to him that what you say is true.’
    He slammed it shut and stuffed it inside his jerkin. A few moments later, Weasel Face burst into the room.
    â€˜You’ve had yer chance for sweet farewells.’ He grabbed Tom by the arm and pulled him towards the door.
    â€˜Wait!’ He yanked free and ran over to where Edward lay whimpering in his blanket on the floor. He gathered him up and glanced at his mother. ‘What if they hurt you?’
    â€˜They won’t. Not now that you’ve told them what they wanted to know . . .’ A look of anguish flashed across her face.
    Tom hung his head. She didn’t need to say any more. In betraying Father, he had betrayed her too.
    â€˜I’m sorry.’ His mother’s voice was gentle. ‘Do not blame yourself, Tom.’ She fixed him with a burning blue gaze. ‘And remember, never give up hope. The path before you will be filled with many tests. But you are your father’s son. Put courage in your heart and, with the good Lord’s help, you will overcome them.’ Her eyes glittered with tears. ‘Now’ – she nodded at Edward – ‘take your brother and go.’

Chapter Six
    W hen Tom reached the Fosters’ house and told them his story, they were shocked. Jem offered to take him to Cowdray the next day, but he couldn’t afford to wait. Father was in danger now . There was only one thing to do: he would have to make the journey on his own.
    While Jem went to fetch some ale and Mistress Foster fussed over Edward, he took his chance. Slipping out quickly through the back yard, he set off for home.
    As he turned into their street, he stopped in his tracks. He’d only been gone an hour, two at most, and already someone had scrawled a grinning death’s head and the words ‘papist traiturs’ in chalk across their front door.
    A shadow in the window of the house