Rees - Sovay

SOVAY

Also by Celia Rees

Witch Child

Sorceress

Pirates!

Celia Rees

Copyright 2008 by Celia Rees

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

First published in the United States of America in September 2008

by Bloomsbury Books for Young Readers

E-book edition published in September 2010

www.bloomsburyteens.com

For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to Permissions, Bloomsbury BFYR, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010

The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition as follows:

Rees, Celia.

Sovay / by Celia Rees. 1st U.S. ed.

p. cm.

Summary: In 1794 England, the rich and beautiful Sovay, disguised as a highwayman, acquires papers that could lead to her fathers arrest for treason, and soon her newly awakened political consciousness leads her and a compatriot to France during the Revolution.

ISBN-13: 978-1-59990-203-6 ISBN-10: 1-59990-203-6 (hardcover)

[1. Social classesFiction. 2. Sex roleFiction. 3. Robbers and outlawsFiction. 4. Great BritainHistory17891820Fiction. 5. FranceHistoryRevolution, 17891799Fiction.] I. Title.

PZ7.R25465Sov 2008 [Fic]dc22 2008004779

ISBN 978-1-59990-573-0 (e-book)

For Catrin

Sovay, Sovay all on a day

She dressed herself in mans array

With a brace of pistols all by her side

To meet her true love, to meet her true love, away shed ride

As she was riding over the plain

She met her true love and bid him stand

Stand and deliver, young sir, she said

And if you do not, and if you do not, Ill shoot you dead

He delivered up his golden store

And still she craved for one thing more

That diamond ring, that I see you wear

Oh hand it over, oh hand it over, and your life Ill spare

From that diamond ring I would not part

For its a token from my sweetheart

Shoot and be damned, you rogue, said he

And youll be hanged, youll be hanged then, for murdering me

Next morning in the garden green

Young Sophie and her true love were seen

He spied his watch hanging from her clothes

Which made him blush lads, which made him blush lads, likeany rose

Why do you blush, you silly thing

I thought to have that diamond ring

Twas I who robbed you all on the plain

So heres your gold, love, so heres your gold and your watchand chain

I only did it for to know

If you would be a man or no

If you had given me that ring, she said

Id have pulled the trigger, pulled the trigger and shot you dead

Traditional ballad

Contents

May, 1794

S ovay rode out early while the dew was still wet on the grass. The grooms had not risen when she stole from the stables, and thin layers of mist wound themselves round her horses legs like skeins of discarded muslin as she crossed the bridge over the lake. Once she was away from the house, she spurred her horse to a gallop, crouched close to his neck as she took the old green road through the forest and up on to the common. There, she took up station at the crossroads, positioning herself in a grove of young birch, ready for the London coach, certain that he would be on it. Then she would expose him for the lecherous, double-dealing, false-hearted, despicable, craven little villain that she now knew him to be.

They were engaged and he had betrayed her with a chambermaid. Even the thought of him filled her with shaking fury.

Not the first hes ruined, neither, her maid, Lydia, had told her, giving her a look. With no mother, and only an invalid aunt to advise her, Lydia had taken some aspects of Sovays moral guidance upon herself. Well, she neednt worry on that score. Sovay had not been that much of a fool. Not quite.

Her anger was mixed with a restless impatience. Where was the coach? She wanted this over. Her horse May, 1794 sensed something of her agitation and stamped and pawed, his shoes ringing on the stony ground. She patted his neck and whispered in his ear to quieten him. The air was full of the sweet musky scent of broom and gorse. When gorse is out of bloom, love isout of favour. She remembered her mother telling her that. It must have been a long time ago. She plucked a sprig of yellow broom and fixed it to the brim of her brothers hat, her mind going back to the revenge she would have. She would make him beg, she would make him crawl and plead for his life. If he failed the test she was about to set for him, she would shoot him dead.

The crack of a drivers whip, his shouts and curses, the crunch of wheels and the labouring snort of horses broke into her thoughts. She spied through a veil of shifting leaves. There was no other traffic in any direction. She pulled down the black mask that shed worn at last winters masked ball and pulled up a green silk kerchief to hide the lower half of her face. The coach creaked almost to a halt at the crest of the rise, the horses sweating after the steep hill. As the driver drew back his whip to urge them onward, Sovay drew her pistols and walked her horse forward.

Stand and deliver!

Her words were whipped away by the wind, swallowed by the great open space of the common. She repeated her demand, making her voice deeper, more commanding, and the guard raised his hands into the air while the driver reined the horses in and lowered his whip. Her heart beat harder when she saw that they obeyed her. She kept one pistol upon them and used the other to rap on the door of the carriage.

Out. All of you out!

Two passengers alighted: James, looking pale and frightened, and another young man. He was well-set, with a fresh, ruddy complexion, a little above her brothers age, about four and twenty. He was in no hurry to get down from the coach and seemed neither worried nor discomforted by this interruption to his journey, and his self-assurance unnerved her. Sovay trained her pistol on him as she ordered the two to part with their valuables and place them in the saddlebag that she threw down to them.

While James sprang to follow her instructions, the other one showed more reluctance, but soon she had divested both of their watches and their gold.

Still I want one thing more, she said, addressing James. That diamond ring that I see you wear. Hand it over and your life I will spare.

She could feel her hand shaking when before it had been steady. This was the test she had set for him. The ring had been given as an expression of true love in an exchange of tokens. He had sworn to die rather than part with it. If he gave it to her, then all the doubts she harboured, all the stories that she had heard about him, were true. James did not hesitate; he was struggling to free the ring from his finger, spitting on his hand to work the band loose. She changed her aim and her hand shook no more. She didnt need to make James beg and crawl. He was doing that of his own accord. He had fallen to his knees, squeezing tears from eyes shut tight in prayer, his clasped hands shaking in supplication.