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Updated: May 29, 2025
Not only so; but, some of the fugitives having taken refuge in Bletchington House, then commanded by Colonel Thomas Windebank, son of the ex-Secretary, with a garrison of 200 men, Cromwell had summoned the house to surrender, and, though a defence might easily have been made, Windebank had actually surrendered that same night, giving up all his stores.
"I wasn't including you," she remarked. "Eat that ice." "Wild horses wouldn't make me." "You'd eat it if you knew what pleasure it would give me." "You want me to break my word?" she said, with a note of defiance in her voice. "Have your own way." "I mean to," The ices were taken away. Windebank went on talking.
In the mean time, while the surgeons and midwives were busy over these four women, the Robinsons, father and son, had come to London at the summons of the privy council. There the boy was separated from his father. To a Middlesex justice of the peace appointed by Secretary Windebank to take his statements he confessed that his entire story was an invention and had no basis of fact whatever.
At last, she went to Windebank to see if he could help. "What is one to do if one isn't altogether happy?" she asked. "Who isn't happy?" "I'm not altogether." "You! But you've everything to make you." "I know. But I'll try and explain." "You needn't." "Why? You don't know what troubles me." "That's nothing to do with it.
Much to her surprise and considerably to her mind's disquiet, Windebank hotly attempted to dissuade her from this course. He urged a variety of reasons, the chief of which was the risk she ran of the fact of her motherhood being discovered. But he might as well have talked to Jill, who accompanied the party. Mavis's mind was made up.
Mistress Aveline had always treated me with kindness, and I was not vain enough to mistake the way in which she received any little attention I was able to pay her. Sir Thomas Gresham was constantly receiving visitors at his house. Among them came at this time Master Thomas Cecil, the son of the great minister, accompanied by his tutor, Master Windebank.
It flattered her to think how her personality appealed to those of her own social kind. She began to realise what a desirable wife she would have made if it had not been for her meeting and subsequent attachment to Charlie Perigal. Any man, Windebank, but for this experience, would have been proud to have made her his wife.
Left alone, Mavis surrendered herself to the feeling of uneasiness which had been called into being, not only by her employer's strange words, but, also, by the fact of Mr Williams having been addressed by the other man as Windebank.
"Who was he?" asked Mavis. "He wasn't a man at all; he was a god. And his clothes! Oh, my dear, my heart came up in my mouth. And when he gave me his card " "Who was he?" interrupted Mavis. "Can't you guess?" "Give it up." "Captain Sir Archibald Windebank." "Really!" "I wish it hadn't been. I've never forgotten him since." "What did he want?" "You!" "Me?" "You, you lucky girl!
The petition was referred to a committee of the Lords, who concluded that as the peace had never been strictly observed by either nation in the Indies they would not demand any security of the Earl. "Whether the Spaniards will think this reasonable or not," concludes Secretary Windebank in his letter to Sir Arthur Hopton, "is no great matter."
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