Tapestry (29 page)

‘I have every hope they will. Money speaks, Mrs Mills, to even the most conscientious of men.’ She turned to Cecilia as a sedan runner answered her friend’s hail. ‘Go back to Duke
Street with the others and wait for me. It’s midday now and I shall not be long. There are things I must say to my husband.’

Jane clambered inelegantly into the chair, while two burly men waited.

‘The Tower of London, please,’ Jane said, astonished at yet another new experience. The sedan’s enclosed box felt like an upright coffin.

The men gripped the horizontal poles and lifted the chair and she was on the move again. She managed a quick wave to her perplexed companions before urging the chair-men to take ‘the quickest route’.

They did, via back alleys and lanes that no horse carriage could navigate. They skipped over open sewers, and yelled at kids who were no doubt looking to pelt the sedan with rotten fruit or worse! She could hear the men’s grunts as they hit their rhythm, moving fast because she was so light. She had seen that the sedan was ornate on the outside, even sporting a parasol that bobbed high above her to shade everything from wigs to hats with tall feathers. The side windows were blocked so passers-by could not stare in, which she appreciated. The long, springy poles afforded a bouncy ride, although she noticed that, even when her carriers were going up or down a hill, and even once down a small flight of stairs to cross from one narrow lane to another, she remained level.
Amazing
, Jane thought,
and how civilised
. She could easily make this mode of travel a habit.

But then she plumbed the depths of gloom as she remembered why she was racing to the Tower. Time was her foe, and if she were going to put this audacious new plan of hers into action, some preparation was vital, particularly with William.

Jane could sense Winifred’s admiration for her scheme. It had been Winifred’s idea to take the sedan and her suggestion now, as they approached the familiar lanes close to the Tower, for Jane to paste a cheerful expression onto her face. Jane understood. Smart Winifred!

She paid her bearers and stepped from the chair — a lot more elegantly, she thought, than when she had boarded. ‘Wait for me, please,’ she told them. ‘We shall be going to Duke Street hereafter.’

‘Yes, My Lady,’ the eldest said, clearly happy to be paid to rest and do nothing.

She met the yeoman guards with a beaming smile. ‘Good day. I bring happy news for the noble Scottish prisoners: the petition in Parliament has been passed in their favour.’

They let her pass, but Jane was not ready to let out her breath just yet. Again she was stopped at the Lieutenant’s Lodgings. She was so close now to William that she refused to be prevented from seeing him. Again she dazzled them with a cheerful grin and repeated her words, this time embellishing them: ‘I’ve been told to anticipate a reprieve for my lord husband later tonight. I can barely contain my thrill.’

‘Who gave you this news, My Lady?’ It was the older yeoman she’d met on her first visit and she knew he felt sympathy for her and William.

‘Lord Pembroke, who argued so eloquently for the lords.’
Forgive me, Thomas
, she thought silently at Winifred’s prompting.

The name clearly impressed the man, and he nodded. ‘You shall have to be brief, My Lady. We were told no visitors.’

‘I know, I know, but I suspect no one believed a reprieve was possible,’ she continued conversationally, giving a bubbly lilt to her words and hurrying the man forward so that he would not change his mind. ‘Is the Constable in his office?’

‘He is not here at present, My Lady. We expect his return from the palace shortly.’

Time could beat her. She must not create any suspicion. ‘How shortly?’ she asked, hastening up the two flights of stairs and speaking sweetly, as though she desperately wished not to miss the Constable.

‘An hour at most.’

‘A pity not to see him,’ she lied. ‘I shan’t be staying for nearly as long as that.’

He nodded. ‘For the best, mayhap,’ he said over his shoulder.

As they walked past the panelled anteroom set aside for the warders who supervised William’s cell, she pressed money into her yeoman companion’s hand.

‘The news has so cheered me that I wish you all to drink to the health of our wise and benevolent king.’

The man blinked with surprise at the coin in his palm. Winifred had wisely recommended Jane hand over an amount that was magnanimous, but not so much as to be viewed as a bribe. ‘You are a generous soul, Countess.’

She shook her head with feigned humility, glancing at the man in front of her husband’s door, who carried a halberd that stood taller than he did. Its axe with sharp, hanging blades on both sides looked daunting. He had not been there on her first visit. She kept the consternation from her expression, showing only warmth and gratitude as she addressed the yeoman. ‘The warders have been good to my lord husband; he said so himself. I am truly grateful to you.’

The yeoman gave a short bow to her and nodded at the pikeman to step aside. ‘The lads will drink to your health, My Lady.’

She smiled, watching him unlock her husband’s cell. ‘Please do so. Er … is this guard necessary?’ she said, deliberately as an aside, as though making polite chatter, taking in the fearsome halberd he had just moved to his left as he stepped aside.

‘Tower rules for condemned men,’ the man — apparently senior yeoman — admitted, pursing his lips with obvious embarrassment.

‘Well,’ she said, loading even more brightness into her tone, ‘he won’t be necessary past this hour, now that my husband is to be reprieved.’

She didn’t wait for his response, pushing past them both into the familiar room, where she saw a surprised William look up from a letter he was scrawling.

‘Oh, my dear Winnie! I was just writing to you.’

The door closed behind her as she allowed him to pull her into a fierce embrace. Jane retreated, as she’d learned to do, and allowed Winifred to come forth. Her host’s spirit had rallied since they’d arrived in London and was getting stronger by the day. Perhaps it was the close proximity to her husband, but Jane felt that Winifred was beginning to assert herself, finding her way back from wherever she had fled or been banished when Jane arrived. This was a good thing, of course. But what did it mean for Jane? She prayed that Winifred’s reawakening was a sign. Were the stars aligning, the worlds rebalancing? Were the ley lines calling her, beginning to show themselves as she drew closer to her goal? Were they preparing to lead her home to a safe, healthy Will?

‘By all things holy, you looked so cheerful when you burst in here just then. It must be good news you bring. I was … I was writing a farewell to the children.’

Jane thought him handsome in his vulnerability: his shirt half open, unshaven, his hair loose to his shoulders. Indeed, the Fifth Earl of Nithsdale was still in his prime.

His face was lit by eagerness, his eyes even permitting merriment at the thought that she had come with details of a reprieve, perhaps terms that he would be glad to agree to. He searched his wife’s light brown eyes and Jane watched, miserably, as the light died in his expression and his enthusiasm with it. He let his wife go and turned away, looking haunted.

‘So it is bad tidings?’ he groaned, clearly unsure of the signals his wife had given.

She sat down in the window seat. ‘There is a possibility that some of the Jacobite rebels will be granted mercy,’ Jane began, feeling her way, drawing upon Winifred’s instinct of how to tread with him.

‘But not I,’ he cut in.

Jane took a breath. ‘No, my darling, I do not believe the King will offer you a reprieve.’ There was no time for niceties or fragile feelings. It was now or never; they had to be fearless.

He walked away and banged his fist against the unyielding stone of the Tower’s wall. ‘Nor did I expect him to,’ he said, collecting himself and clearing his throat of emotion. ‘Forgive me; I was fooled by your cheery expression when you entered.’

‘I was feigning joy, William.’

‘Why?’ he said, swinging around, his face a mask of confusion.

‘Because I have a plan, and I did not wish anyone to suspect anything other than the lie I have begun promoting.’

He hesitated. ‘Which is?’

‘That a reprieve is imminent.’

William stared at her, baffled.

Jane explained everything that had occurred on her trip to St James’s Palace with her petition, her subsequent vigil outside the Houses of Parliament, and then the debate inside the House of Lords.

‘So they need their scapegoat.’

She nodded. ‘I suspect not only one, but definitely you. I blame myself for this. I enraged the King.’

‘No, Winnie. I have been a thorn in the Protestant Crown’s side for years. Our family seat on the border would be so much easier for the English Crown to parley with if I were not so wholeheartedly for the Church of Rome.’ He turned away and sighed. ‘Nay, my love, this is the excuse London has been searching for to do away with a prickly problem. Do not shoulder any blame, for you have done more than any other wife would dare. You have been more courageous than many men might be. I have today written to my sister Mary to thank her, and of course Charles, for their favours and kindness. I hope they will continue to show you the generosity
they always have. Do you remember my mentioning Father Scott?’

‘The priest?’

He nodded. ‘I have been seeing him daily and have made my peace and prepared myself for death.’ He shrugged. ‘I have even forgiven my enemies. This is a good set of mind I have achieved. Let Willie know his father went to Tower Hill with a clean conscience and pure heart.’ Jane felt Winifred’s fear take flight and she helplessly rose to her feet, but William stayed her, holding her shoulders gently and pushing her back into her seat. He kissed her tenderly and Jane retreated again so that it was Winifred his lips adored as they lingered. Finally, when he pulled away, he spoke so softly it was nearly a whisper. ‘You, my darling, have been the love of my life. I have cherished you since that day in the garden of Saint-Germain-en-Laye, when we first spoke. It is that image I will carry in my mind to the scaffold.’

‘William, stop, I beg you!’ Winifred gasped, tears stinging. Jane took charge and her host’s voice sounded gritty with emotion. ‘Listen to me. You agree our situation is hopeless … your case lost?’

‘No need to rub it in, my love,’ he said, smiling sadly and pulling her to him again, taking her hands and kissing them tenderly before fixing her with a firm gaze. ‘I do not wish you to be present tomorrow. I want you to leave London this evening — this afternoon if you can ready yourself so soon. Go back to Scotland immediately, gather up what you need and sail for France with our daughter. Reunite with Willie and live out your days at the French court. I know you will be welcomed back affectionately.’

‘I am not so sure of that, my dear. But do not be so hasty to bid me farewell.’

He frowned. ‘It will only make it harder for me if you —’

‘Sit down and hear me out,’ Jane said, dragging him to the window seat.

He allowed her to pull him down beside her. She urged Winifred to hold his face. ‘I would rather die than live without you.’ They were the right stirring words to say.

‘Winnie —’

‘Hush,’ Jane said, fixing him with his wife’s gaze. ‘You are helpless. I am not. Now, pay attention. They will be asking me to leave at any moment.’

Jane watched his expression change from bemused to intrigued as she told him of her mad plan in a stream of rushed words, not permitting him to interrupt. Finally she sat back and held her breath.

‘Escape?’ he breathed, as though he did not understand the word.

She nodded, smiling tentatively.

‘Escape?’ he repeated, looking baffled. ‘From the Tower of London? Britain’s proudest fortress, which has humbled far more powerful men than I with her thick walls, stout locks and hundreds of warders?’

Jane narrowed Winifred’s gaze, hearing the unmistakable undertow of sarcasm. ‘William, the alternative is ugly indeed.’

‘I agree, but this is madness!’

‘Mayhap it is, but my love, they can only kill you once. You can die trying to escape, or you can be executed on the morrow having attempted to escape … or you can let them meekly lead you like the tethered scapegoat you spoke of earlier up onto those gallows. Choose!’

He stood and scratched his head. ‘Winifred, this is lunacy!’ he hissed.

‘It is your last chance, I tell you. Take it! I’m prepared to. I’m the one who has to perform the difficult actions. I’m the one who must hold her nerve. All I ask you to do is follow my lead. It will happen tonight.’

He searched her face again, shaking his head slightly, obviously thinking how ridiculous her plan sounded. ‘It is
comical,’ he said, confused. ‘How do you expect to get away with it?’

‘Mayhap it is comical. Mayhap they will write plays and songs about it, William. But it is the childish simplicity of the plan that makes it viable. The mere fact that they will not expect it, would not even countenance such a far-fetched idea, means it may just work. What have you got to lose in trying?’

‘Only my head,’ he admitted dryly, ‘but that is already lost.’

‘No!’ she whispered urgently. ‘Nothing is lost. All is yet to be won if you do exactly as I say.’

There was a knock at the door and her favourite yeoman was back with a plaintive look. ‘Time, My Lord, My Lady,’ he said.

She nodded. ‘Well, my dearest,’ she said in a breathy tone. ‘How excited I am. I shall write to our children today with the brightest of news.’

William played his part. ‘We must wait for formal notification, my love, of the King’s pardon and his terms.’

‘Of course,’ she said, touching his face. ‘Well, my darling,’ she hugged him fiercely, ‘make sure you
shave
and comb your hair. You must look your proudest.’ She cast William a firm look and saw the flash of understanding reflected in his glance.
Good
. ‘Until later, then,’ she said, pecking both of his cheeks.

As she followed the yeoman, she threw one final encouraging look over her shoulder.