The Remarkable Life and Times of Eliza Rose (30 page)

Eliza flung a shawl around her shoulders, ran downstairs and out of the front door, catching up with the bellman at the top of Thames steps.

‘Can you tell me more about the highwayman arrested?’ she asked, panting.

‘Oh, aye, young missy,’ he said. ‘They took him in a tavern. They said he was drunk as a lord, for he’d had a mighty good day’s thieving and was enjoying a celebration.’

‘But who was he?’

‘Why, none other than Claude Duval himself.’ The bellman winked at Eliza. ‘And they say he’s to be hanged good and quick before he can get away again!’

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The next morning Eliza, after rising early, went to the stationers at St Paul’s to buy a special edition of the
London Newes
. Going upstairs to Nell’s room and sitting amid the ruffled silk, lace pillows and beribboned hangings of her sumptuous new bed, she read the details of Claude Duval’s arrest to her.

‘It says they took him at Mother Mabberley’s tavern, the Hole in the Wall in Chandos Street. A member of the watch apprehended him when he was talking about a robbery he’d committed earlier on Turnham Green, where he stole a wooden chest containing precious jewels and gold. He was drunk, they say, and off his guard.’

Nell sighed. ‘How like a man to be boasting of his success! A chest of jewels, though. No wonder he was full of it.’

‘He was taken straight to Newgate and will be tried by Sir William Morton the day after tomorrow.’

‘So quickly! That’s to make sure he’s not sprung.’

Eliza looked further down the paper. ‘There follows a list of some of the robberies he’s accused of and notable people that he’s stolen from over the years.’

Nell waved her hand dismissively. ‘But he never used violence,’ she said, ‘and most of the people he
robbed could well afford it.’

‘What will happen to him?’

Nell shook her head and shivered, though a large fire had already been lit in the room. ‘He’ll be sentenced to be hanged for sure.’

Eliza felt her eyes fill with tears.

‘Unless,’ Nell went on, ‘we can appeal to the king to reprieve him.’

‘
We
appeal?’

‘Well, you and I know that Claude Duval has saved the king’s life, so perhaps some sort of bargain can be struck.’

Eliza read further from the
Newes
, and then gave a sudden little cry. ‘It says here that they’re seeking his accomplices, and that if anyone wants to turn king’s evidence, they’ll be given a Tyburn ticket.’ She looked at Nell. ‘What’s that?’

‘’Tis a token against being hanged. If you give evidence against a highwayman, you’re allowed to go free even though you may have committed the same crime yourself.’

‘They’re also giving rewards for the capture of his partners in crime and those who have assisted him over the years.’ Eliza suddenly put down the newspaper. ‘They are seeking
me!
’ she said in a fright.

‘But no one saw you that night!’

‘’Tis possible that Monmouth did,’ Eliza said shakily. ‘And there are those who saw me with Claude in the coffee house beforehand, too. It could be said that we were in there plotting together.’

‘But
who
would have seen you?’

‘Anyone! Don’t you always say that there are spies everywhere?’

‘I do, but … No, we mustn’t think of this! We must seek out His Majesty and beg for Claude to be treated leniently because he’s saved the king’s life and has never used violence on anyone. And in the meantime I’ll send a messenger to Newgate to see if there’s anything that Claude needs while he’s in there.’ Nell shuddered. ‘’Tis grim there – but at least at this time of the year there’s little prison fever about.’

Much to her relief, for she hated going anywhere near prisons, Nell didn’t ask Eliza to go to Newgate. Instead she was instructed to go to Doctor Deane’s with a slip of paper giving details of Louise de Keroualle.

‘And please ask him about my confinement again, and whether he’s perfectly sure that I’m having a boy,’ Nell had added.

Eliza usually loved walking through the teeming streets of the City, but the news about Duval had unnerved her. Everyone was talking about the arrest; ballad sheets had already been printed with tales of Duval’s exploits and posters engraved with wishes for his safe return to the ‘fine and ancient business of highway robbery’. Eliza also saw some official bills, however, offering a reward for the handing over of anyone who’d helped him, and after reading these couldn’t help but suspect everyone. Was that boy really sweeping the gutters, or was he watching her? Was the street trader selling trinkets from his tray, or had he been placed there to snoop? Why did the green man with his barrow of herbs seem to be following her? She contemplated buying a mask and holding it to her face, but decided that this would make her look
more suspicious. Nevertheless, she pulled the hood of her cloak well over her head before going through the City gates.

She passed St Columbus Church, where she’d last seen the man she’d thought was her father, and wondered if he was still working there. The church building seemed to be complete now, so perhaps he’d gone to Somersetshire, back home to her brothers and sisters. Who were, of course, no longer her brothers and sisters. But telling herself not to ponder on that and become downcast, she walked swiftly on towards London Bridge and the consulting rooms of Doctor Deane.

On stating her business, the maid disappeared for a moment and came back with the doctor close behind her. He bowed to Eliza and she returned a curtsy, then handed over the slip of paper.

‘This is the date and place of birth of a friend of Mistress Gwyn,’ she said. She spoke quickly, for the unpleasant smell in the rooms was making her eyes smart and she wanted to get away as soon as she could. ‘She wants you to cast a chart for this lady.’

‘And are there any questions in particular that she seeks answers for?’ the astrologer asked.

Eliza answered as Nell had instructed. ‘She wishes to know how long she’ll be at court.’

The astrologer glanced at the paper. ‘Ah. Born in Deauville. This is the birth date of Louise de Keroualle, no doubt.’

Eliza marvelled at this rather, but didn’t answer.

‘Mistress Rose,’ Doctor Deane said as she turned to go, ‘you may be interested in a strange incident which happened last week.’

Eliza looked at him and shivered. There was something sinister about him, she thought, and something disturbing about the aspect of his rooms: the gloom, the choking smell, the clammy feel of them. What did this man know? Could he tell that she’d assisted Claude Duval? Was this what he was going to say?

‘And what was that?’ she asked, trying to keep her tone even.

‘Last week I was consulted by someone who happened to have exactly the same natal chart as you.’

Eliza blinked at him, not understanding.

‘I mean someone who was born in the same place as you, at the same time, and with the same planets in the same houses. That is, with a preponderance of planets in the second and the tenth house.’

‘But … but is this so extraordinary?’ Eliza asked. ‘One sometimes finds that one shares a birthday with someone.’

‘This was not just a birthday. This is someone who in every single aspect is your astrological twin.’

‘My astrological twin? Someone at court?’ Eliza asked, knowing that was where he obtained most of his clients. ‘But who?’

Doctor Deane smiled so that his yellow skin crinkled like paper. ‘That, my dear young lady, would be a breach of confidentiality. I didn’t disclose your details, and I won’t disclose theirs. I won’t even say if my client is male or female.’

‘Does it mean that there is someone who’s very like me in character, then?’ Eliza asked, terribly intrigued.

‘It does not, for the circumstances of your upbringing have been so very dissimilar that you are
different in every possible way.’

‘So is there
any
connection between us?’

‘The connection is this: with due consideration to your present position in life, I believe that something very interesting and remarkable happened at your birth. That’s all I will say.’

And before Eliza could ask anything else he bowed and withdrew.

Eliza walked home, deep in thought. She had no idea what it all could mean. The astrologer had bewildered her so completely, she realised, that she’d completely forgotten to ask him about Nell’s forthcoming child.

‘The king,’ Nell said with some impatience that evening, ‘has the Venetian ambassador staying and they’ve gone hunting wild pig together in Windsor.’

‘So you haven’t been able to see him?’

‘Not even for a moment!’ Nell said. ‘And tomorrow he is Touching all day – which, before you ask, Eliza, is when those of the population who are afflicted with a disease called the King’s Evil come to the palace to be cured by him.’

‘I’ve never heard of such a thing.’

‘And pray you never do, for it’s a horrid and nasty disease which they believe only the touch of a king can undo.’ Nell paused only briefly. ‘But how did you fare with Doctor Deane?’

Eliza had already decided not to say anything about the discovery of the person who shared her birth details, for she wanted to ponder on it a while, think what it might possibly mean.

‘Well, ’twas very strange,’ she said, ‘for when I gave
him the paper he knew straight away that it was for Louise de Keroualle.’

Nell smiled. ‘As long as he doesn’t return the chart to
her!
And what more did he say about the sex of my child?’

Eliza had to admit then that she’d forgotten to ask and Nell, rather cross, said that Eliza should remember that she was her
maid
first and foremost, not merely her friend. Eliza, deeply hurt, turned away with her eyes stinging with tears, and Nell immediately said she was sorry.

‘I’m a cross-patch and you must take no notice of me!’ she said. She put her arm through Eliza’s. ‘But when you go back to collect Squintabella’s chart you must remember to ask.’

Eliza nodded. ‘Of course!’ she said, but felt again an anxiety about her situation. Not only might Nell lose her position with the king, but it was possible that she, Eliza, might fall out of favour with Nell. And what would happen then?

The incident now forgotten by her, Nell sighed. ‘But did you notice that everywhere on the street the talk is of nothing but Claude? I heard his name dozens of times even from within my carriage.’

‘As I walked through the market at Leadenhall I heard a ballad sung about him,’ Eliza said. ‘And then heard a different one as I was crossing Fleet river!’

‘At least our friend wants for nothing. The messenger came back from Newgate to say that he’s as well as he can be, has paid for his own cell and is having food sent in from the Fox and Grapes.’

The two girls looked at each other and sighed dismally. Eliza thought that Nell was perhaps a little
in love with the so-handsome Claude – and she herself certainly kept a special place in her heart for him.

‘We
must
try to save him,’ Nell said fervently. ‘I’ll see the king as soon as I can – I’ll send a message to him through Chiffinch.’

The next morning Eliza was leisurely buying ribbons from a peddler outside the front door when the information came down the street from several sources – by whisper, by shouted word, by the forlorn cry of a woman in the street, and lastly from a shout from the bellman – that Claude Duval had been sentenced to hang at Tyburn in two days’ time.

Hurriedly taking this news back to Nell, Eliza found that she was receiving Aphra Behn, who’d come to see her with a new play, so had to wait on the landing for that lady to leave. When Nell discovered that sentence on Duval had already been passed, she immediately sent for her carriage so that she and Eliza could go to the palace together.

‘I haven’t yet heard back from Chiffinch,’ she said, ‘but we’ll go this instant and wait for the king to become free. If necessary, we’ll stay there all day.’

Arriving at Whitehall Palace, Eliza was amazed to see a winding snake of people coming out of one of the doors and extending all around the gravelled square where the carriages usually waited.

‘So many folk waiting to see him!’ she said to Nell.

‘The king touched nigh on four thousand last year,’ Nell said. She nudged Eliza. ‘But don’t go too close to any of them, for fear you may become infected.’

‘Then doesn’t the king catch the disease?’

‘Of course not,’ Nell said, frowning. ‘He
is
the king.’

Eliza was not sure how Nell knew her way, but after entering the palace and travelling some distance through it, they found themselves in a vast presence chamber where scores of afflicted people sat on benches waiting patiently to be seen. Every so often a small line of people would be led off, then the whole audience would shuffle along to sit in these places and more people be let in from outside. It was not just sufferers who were waiting, Eliza saw, for some were accompanied by members of their families and there were also doctors and black-clothed ministers milling about. All of these together contributed to a tremendous bustle and noise.

It was apparent that many of those waiting knew who Nell was – and those who didn’t were quickly informed – so that soon Eliza found they were the focus of attention for several hundred pairs of eyes. Nell attempted to get into the next room, into the actual presence of the king, but as those in charge of proceedings all seemed to be churchmen who knew and disapproved of her reputation, she didn’t get very far.

She went back to sit with Eliza after another attempt. ‘We may have to wait until the whole blooming lot of them have gone in!’ she said crossly – and so loudly that a whole bevy of clerics turned and waggled their heads at her disapprovingly. ‘And you needn’t look so hoity-toity,’ she retorted unabashed, ‘for I’ve seen plenty of you at the theatre taking a sneaky look at my privities!’

They waited there for two more hours, until the High Chamberlain, one of the palace officials with whom Nell was friendly, came in and, noticing her,
gave leave for them to be taken into the next chamber. Nell was escorted through, smiling triumphantly around the room, and Eliza followed in her wake.