Yesterdays

YESTERDAYS

JIM CARR

COPYRIGHT: JamesWCarr 2020

ISBN: 9781978425213

Chapter One

“Youmust have had a lot of kidding when you were young,” said Beth Westwood.

“More than you’ll ever know,” said Guy Fawkes, her art dealer. “My father was different, shall we say. When I would come home from school crying, he told me no one would ever forget my name. He was right.”

Beth wiped her hands on her smock, streaked with reds, blues, yellows and even a touch of grey here and there. She liked Guy. He was starting to show his age, not just in his hair that had turned white but in a way he seemed to search for words when he began talking. But his voice was strong and commanding still.

“You took a chance on me when everyone else turned me down and told me there was something about my paintings that made them uneasy. When I asked them what exactly made them feel uneasy, none of them could tell me.”

Guy smiled. “After I met you and saw your paintings, I knew they would make both of us very rich. Your paintings are now being bid up to a million dollars apiece. What are you working on now?”

“A beach scene. The place where Josh and I went for our honeymoon. I’m painting it as I remembered it.”

“Interesting. You know that many people tell me they can feel your presence in your paintings.” His faded blue eyes still had a way of smiling that made her feel comfortable in his presence.

Beth laughed. “So I’ve been told.”

He had a mole on his chin that was half-hidden by his goatee. He smiled again as he rose from his chair and kissed her on the cheek. “I’d best be heading back. The next train will be leaving at four o’clock.”

She walked him this waiting taxi, grabbing the cream-coloured hat she bought in Paris while she and Josh attended an art show. It was the only time she had ever travelled to Paris, and memories of her visit still danced in her head.

Guy always made her feel special, even about the paintings she had misgivings. She looked around her studio, located in the attic of their two-

storey home, at the dressmaker form and the old settee, almost hidden in the darkness. The only light came from a window on her right. The pane had cracked, and Josh had taped it until he had time to replace it.

Beth sat on her stool in front of her easel as she mixed the colour of white sand and dabbed it on her painting. She smiled about what people said about her paintings, and then, on a whim, she found herself painting herself sitting on the sand beside a handsome young man. The only difference was that she made her face look 15 years younger.

She sat back and looked at it. The room darkened, as though a cloud appeared suddenly, and she suddenly found herself on the beach sitting beside a handsome young man. He had a golden tan all over his body, and his dark, curly hair made his face look even more attractive. His voice was soft and compelling, with an air of authority.

His square jaw and light blue eyes reminded her of Josh. She uncorked a bottle of suntan lotion. He smiled at her and reached out and took the bottle.

“Allow me.”

Before she could say No, he grabbed the bottle from her hand as quick as a bird spotting a shiny trinket. “Where would you like it first?”

“I don’t know you, and I don’t feel comfortable about any of this.”

He moved a bit closer, still holding the suntan oil in his left hand. She had to admit he was certainly handsome. He smiled and held his hand out for her suntan oil.

”Let me introduce myself.” He held out his hand. “Jake Arlington. Call me Jake.”

She shook his hand. She had seen his type many times: Handsome in every way and knew it. His eyes oozed confidence, along with a soothing, unhurried voice that made people trust him with their confidences.

He ordered drinks for them and began applying the santan oil to her back. She had to admit, he had a touch that relaxed her shoulder muscles far better than the therapist at her spa.

“They have a unique place to have supper here. A private table for two 60 feet up in the branches of a 200-year-old tree. You need to reserve it in advance, of course, but if you agree, just nod. I’ll see what I can do.”

“It’s very tempting.”

“Go for it. It’ll be an experience you’ll remember forever. Our waiters reach us by an aerial wire directly from the kitchen. So what do you say?” His eyes were pleased with what he saw. He took her hand and kissed it.

“I’ll see you in the lobby at seven,” he added, disappearing into the resort.

Beth wasn’t sure what to do. She knew she was treading on dangerous

ground, and the last thing she wanted to do was to betray Josh. He deserved only her best. She took a bath and got ready for dinner in the resort’s dining room at the table, where she and Josh had sat during their honeymoon. It looked out over the beach and the bay and its light blue water.

She looked up at someone standing over her. It was Jake, dressed in a white tuxedo, looking even more handsome. “I’m sorry. I meant to say we would meet in the lobby. But if you prefer to eat here, that would not be a problem. But the treetop dining experience still stands.”

She rose slowly. Jake took her arm, and they headed outside. “Now, for a night to remember.”

A member of the resort’s staff was waiting and led them into the forest that fringed the resort area. It was starting to get dark, and their guide stopped to light a torch, which revealed a chair dangling by chains close to the base of the tree. The scent of flowers growing around the trees was intoxicating.

Jake pointed to the chair. “I yield to beauty. At the top, you will be greeted by a serving lady, who will help you off the chair and seat you.”

She looked down from the tree-top table. The torch below seemed so small. She could barely see Jake, who had locked himself into the swing. A warm breeze had picked up from the beach behind the trees. In the growing darkness, the moon had come out and cast a magic spell as Jake poured her a glass of Champagne. They toasted each other and laughed. They talked about opera and art, surprising him with her intimate knowledge of artists and their styles.

Dinner ended with coffee and Cognac. He held her hand and looked into her eyes for almost a minute without a word.

An hour later, she descended first and waited for him to come down. Their torch bearer was there to lead them back to the resort. A few couples were dancing outside in the courtyard to the swaying music of four string instruments. He looked at her and nodded at the dancers.

“It’s getting late, Jake. It’s been a busy day for me, and I need a good night’s sleep.”

He nodded and suddenly kissed her.

Thirty minutes later, after she had bathed and got ready for bed, there was a knock at her door. She looked through the peephole in the door. It was Jake. She opened the door.

***

He was gone when she woke. There was a short note from him beside the phone. “Have to catch at 6 a.m. flight. Let us meet again. Soon.”

Beth started to cry. How could she possibly explain this to Josh?

She also knew what she had to do. She picked up the phone. “It’s Beth Greenwood in Room 361. Could someone bring me up a painter’s canvass, some brushes and oil paints?”

“It’s not something we normally stock at the resort. But there is an artist’s store in town, about 20 minutes from here. Would you like breakfast in your room?”

“The dining room would be fine. At breakfast, Beth tore a page from the menu and stuffed it in her pocket.

Her art supplies arrived an hour later. She set up a make-shift easel on the balcony and started painting her attic, chair, easel, old settee, palette, and even the cracked window plane Josh had taped. Next, she added herself, sitting on her chair, examining which paints to use in a new painting.

Nothing happened. No dark clouds, nothing. Just a vista of the beach and the blue waves breaking on the sand. Beth sat back to examine the painting to see if she had left something out when he suddenly found herself on the old chair she loved to sit on while painting. She started to cry uncontrollably until someone passed her a handkerchief. It was Josh. She put her arms around him and started crying again.

“I didn’t hear you come in.” He hadn’t shaved since she had left, and it felt comfortable against her cheek.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you back. Faith called. Many times. I told her you were on one of your sketching jaunts.” He sat down on the chair opposite her. “Where did you go?”

“To some place, I always wanted to go back to. The resort where we went on our honeymoon.”

He shook his head and smiled. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand you.”

“Of all people I know, you understand me most. You have a sixth sense about me. I never experienced that before I met you.”

“Do you plan to take other trips like this?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure. If I tell you something if you promise not to tell another living soul?” She paused to see how he was taking it. “The day I disappeared, something extraordinary happened. I was painting a picture of the resort we stayed at during our honeymoon. On a whim, I painted myself sitting on the beach at the resort and suddenly found myself there.”

“What are you trying to hide?” The tone of his voice suddenly changed. “No, Josh. It’s true. I swear it. Please do not tell anyone else about it. They’ll think I’m crazy.”

Chapter Two

“Iwasworried about you. Everyone was, including Josh, although he wouldn’t admit it.” Faith’s deep brown eyes searched her face. ”Where did you disappear to?”

“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me. Josh doesn’t. But it’s the Gospel truth.”

“Try me.” Faith reached out for her hand and held it tight.

Faith had a pretty face that Beth envied and loved to paint. It was thin, with high cheekbones that made her look as though she were on an eternal diet. She was always eating and had a passion for cooking cakes, which she gobbled down with her morning coffee.

“I don’t know how you do it,” said Beth. “If I ate the way you do, I’d gain 10 pounds overnight.”

Faith smiled and leaned closer. “You were about to tell me about your adventure.”

“You know that many people say they can feel my presence in my paintings. I decided to test it out. I painted myself in a painting I was working on, and suddenly I found myself there. In the scene I had just painted. I spent the afternoon with a handsome young man and even had supper with him at a table set in an old tree, 60 feet in the air.” Faith pushed back her light brown hair from her forehead. “You’re sure this isn’t something you dreamed? Or suffered from some kind of hallucination?”

Beth shook her head. “No. No. And No. I am not sure what happened. But something did happen. “Here,” she said, reaching into her pocket and withdrawing the page she had torn from the resort’s dining room menu. “I tore that out of the menu on the day I came back.”

“I’d like to believe you, Beth. But I’d feel a lot better if you went to see my psychiatrist. The torn page could have come from the time you were there before.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me, Faith. I’ve never felt better in my life. Physically and mentally.”

“It’s not a big deal, Beth. I see a therapist whenever things get a bit out of control. You’d like him, and he may be able to provide the answers you’re looking for.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“I never said that. I’m just looking for an explanation for you. Dr. Stilwell has been a miracle in my life, and I think he’d make a difference in yours. You’re my best friend, Beth.”

Beth smiled and nodded. “I think it’s a huge waste of time. You’re my best friend, too, Faith.”

***

Beth liked him at first sight, despite her misgivings. Dr. Ed Stilwell was not the image she had of psychiatrists. He wore a black T-shirt and faded jeans, with sunglasses perched on his forehead, and a voice that was soothing and comforting.

“Faith tells me you’re a famous artist. I know because I can’t afford one of your paintings. I’d like to see them one day. According to Faith, paintings appear to be at the root of your concerns,” he said as he led her into his office. A large window opened to his garden, filled with ferns and thickets that reminded her of the home she grew up in. He sat on the edge of his desk and chatted about painting for a bit before asking her to join him for a coffee.

“Sit on the lounge. It’s quite soft, and you’ll feel more relaxed on it.”

Beth looked at him before carefully choosing her words. “I’m not lying down on this any couch if that’s what you expect.”

“I don’t. I think it would be simpler if I described what happened to me this week.”

He turned on his recorder. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Beth shook her head. “I was painting a scene from memory of the resort my husband and I stayed on our honeymoon. On a whim, I painted myself sitting beside a handsome young man. The room seemed to darken, as though a cloud passed over the sun, and I suddenly found myself on the beach, wearing a bikini and flirting with the handsome young man next to me.”

She stopped to see how he was reacting to her story. His face didn’t show anything. “I suppose you think I’m crazy or just dreamed it all.”

“It may have been a dream, except,” he paused to drive the point home, “for the fact that, according to your friend, you disappeared for a couple of days and that your husband suggested you were on a sketching tour and had left without telling him where or when you’d be coming back.”

“Which means?”

“Let me ask you first. What do you know about other dimensions?

“Not much. I paint in two but I know there are three.”

“Do you think there are other dimensions in which we may be living?”

“Never gave it much thought.”

“Do you know much about Stephen Hawking?”

“Just that he’s a famous physicist and a great thinker.”

“He entertained that idea. He thought there would come a time when we will be able to travel back in time.”

“So what are you telling me?”

“Two things. You’re not insane, and you do not imagine things. And that you did have some experience none of us can quite explain, even entertaining the idea of other dimensions.”

“I understand you brought back the page of a menu in the restaurant you were in. I’d like to see it.”

She reached into her purse and unfolded it for him.

He scanned it for some time. “If you study it carefully, you will note that the pictures in it are a bit blurry and that typeface was quite popular 20 years ago. Cameras have come a long way since then. These pictures were probably taken long before then – from the black-and-white film days.”

He reached into his pocket and tossed her a silver coin with strange markings on it. “If you ever go larking about again, carry this with you. It brought me good luck over the years and will bring you good luck, too. It will also remind you of our talk, no matter where you happen to be.”

He thinks I’m nutty, she thought. And that coin. Just a trick and a stupid one. If he thinks I’m going to swallow his story about good luck, he’s in for an awakening. But maybe, there are other dimensions. If there are, it would explain everything. No. I’m not going to fall for that either.

“That’s it?”

He smiled and caught her eyes for a second. “If you ever need to talk, I’ll always be here.”

Josh was waiting for her when she returned. “Well, what did he say?” he asked, pouring her a cup of coffee.

“He thinks I’ve stumbled into another dimension somehow. He made a point of telling me I was sane and noted the page from the menu I brought back had to be at least 20 years old.”

“He’s as crazy as you are,” said Josh.

She ignored his comment. “For the record, Josh, I will do another painting, paint myself in it as before, and see what happens. We’ll all know then, won’t we?”

She couldn’t wait to start. She had always been fascinated by the Restoration period in England and decided to paint herself in a four-poster bed with white cotton drapes – the kind well-off people slept in during

the 17th Century. She needed a guide. She had to get the clothes right and everything else and started looking at all the pictures she could gather of Charles II’s court. She found it just before she went down to breakfast.

Josh was in the kitchen when she went down from the attic. “Let me make breakfast,” she smiled, taking the frying pan from his hands. She looked out her large kitchen window that overlooked their back yard and the dark, brooding trees at the end of their garden.

They sat at the kitchen table. “I’ve found a picture of where I want to visit next.”

He looked at her over the rim of his coffee mug. “Don’t leave me hanging.”

“You still don’t believe me, do you?”

“How long will you be gone?”

“I’m not sure. It’s unchartered territory. I plan to go back into the 17th Century to the Restoration period in English history.”

“When are you taking off?”

“As soon as I finish my painting. And don’t ask me when that will be. I’ll let you know before I finish it.” Beth flipped two eggs on his plate and passed it to him.

She loved her kitchen. They had it remodelled two years earlier to include a centre island, a large window with Venetian blinds and a grey steel-clad refrigerator and stove.

“I think you’re using this as a way to get away from me. If you’re tired of being with me, just say so.”

Beth’s face fell. “Anything but, Josh. If you’d like to come with me, I’d love it. All I have to do is paint you in the picture.”

“With my mug? Don’t be crazy.”

She didn’t respond immediately. “You know, Josh, it may work this time. If it doesn’t, you’ll never hear anything about it ever again.”

Faith visited her with a fresh batch of tea biscuits and strawberry jam. “You didn’t tell me what passed between you and Dr. Stilwell. Isn’t he marvellous?”

Beth smiled and put the coffee pot on. “You’re right. He is very special, as you say. But your memory is slipping. I told you all about it yesterday, and he doesn’t think I’m nutty in any way.”

“No one ever thought that, Beth. I was hoping it was a bad dream or something like that.”

“He’s not sure what it is.”

“What do you plan to do then?”

“I’m going to paint another picture and see what happens. If nothing, I’ll move on and forget about it. But I need to know for sure.”

Faith stirred her coffee and thought about what to say next. “Where to, this time?”

“The Restoration Period in London. I’ve always been interested in that period. If it works, I’ll not only have a ring-side seat but be part of it.”

“Have you already started on the painting?”

“About an hour before you came.”

“If it does happen again, is there anything you would like me to do in your absence? And how long do you expect to be away?”

“Josh asked me that, and my answer to him was I don’t know. It depends on the life I find there. But I will be coming back.” She reached for Faith’s hand and rubbed it. “I don’t know what I’ll find.” ***

Copying the picture was more demanding than she expected. Then there was the problem of placing herself at a critical point in the painting. She decided to paint herself in the four-poster bed. She left specific details unfinished until she showed it to Josh.

“I plan to finish it tomorrow.”

His face looked strained. “I’m scared.”

“Promise me you’ll come into the studio and look at me when I’m gone. It’s one way we can stay connected.”

On the following day, Josh went to her studio and withdrew the grey cloth Beth used to cover her paintings. He removed it slowly.

Beth was no longer in the painting.

Chapter Three

Beth blinked twice. She looked up at the white canopy that covered her four-poster. Her bed clothes were roughly woven, and her nightdress extended down to her toes.

A light rap at her door, and a young woman entered. “You’re awake, Mistress Bethenny. Your father would like to see you immediately. He’s at breakfast.”

The young woman pulled down the bed covers and helped Bethenny to her feet. The painted coverings on the floor felt warm to her feet. There was one on top of another. The top one showed a painting of a castle on a hill framed in a wreath of leaves losing their colour.

“What dress would you like to wear today?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You don’t look right, mistress. Is anything wrong?”

Bethenny didn’t quite know what to say.

“It’s me, Hannah. Your serving maid. You’re acting as though you don’t know me. And you speak with a strange accent.”

“Nothing wrong, Hannah. I didn’t sleep well last night. You choose for me.” Beth tried to imitate her accent. “I dreamed I was in the Americas on a large plantation.”

Hannah undressed her and poured water from a white ewer into a basin on her makeup table to wash her before helping Bethenny into a light blue dress. She sat before the mirror at her dressing table as Hannah brushed her brown hair. Bethenny was startled. She looked 20 years old and smiled at the thought of never looking old.

“It’s best you go down to your father, Mistress Bethenny. He’s in a testy mood today.”

Bethenny looked out her small window, seeing a man staggering and leaning against the brick wall for support on the other side of the street. She turned away quickly. She had never seen death that close before. The window was narrow and allowed only a small amount of light to come into her room.

Her father looked up as he heard her step on the stair. He had finished his breakfast and was sipping his second tea.

“You’re late.” His voice was more annoyed than usual. “I’ve been up most of the night, wondering if you, your mother and I should leave London for a few months, long enough to avoid coming down with the plague. The court has already left. I intend that we follow them to Oxford.

Bethenny’s mother joined them a few minutes later. She was in her early 50s but looked ten years younger. Mercy smiled, showing the loss of a tooth on the upper right side of her mouth. She picked at her breakfast, conscious of her diet at every meal.

The dining room was the largest in the house. It had two large windows to let as much light as possible into the room. It was painted green and had a large stone fireplace where her father smoked before going to bed. There were two paintings on each of the walls. The largest painting, a Dutch scene with boats at the dock, hung just over the large dark brown oak sideboard, where Hannah had laid out the breakfast trays.

“I’ve been telling Bethenny that I’ve decided to leave London for a while because of the plague. The court has already moved to Oxford, and I think it wise we should do likewise.”

“You always know best, Nathaniel.” She offered him one of her smiles and went back to her porridge. Mercy Greenwood was a small, almost elfin figure and an even smaller face considered beautiful at one time. She coughed repeatedly as Hannah filled Mercy’s plate.

“The Bill of Mortality is getting longer by the week. If we don’t move, we are most certainly to be stricken by it.” He turned to Hannah. “Could you ask old Tom to see me?”

In his early 70s, Tom Airey had been a household member for as long as Bethenny could remember. He walked with a slight bend. His eyebrows and hair were completely white now. Nathaniel invited him to take tea with them. He sat beside Bethenny and thanked her for the tea she poured for him.

Bethenny had second thoughts about leaving her home, despite the plague. She loved their dining room, with its chandelier that offered light from 60 candles, the long sideboard, and the bright red carpet from Italy that gave the room a touch of elegance.

“I wanted to tell you, Tom, that we’ll be moving to Oxford until the plague dies down. I would like you to look after everything in our absence. I would advise you to buy enough food to last you at least three or four months. This way, you’ll avoid the plague. Stay inside as much as you can. We can’t afford to lose you.”

“When do you intend to leave, Mr. Hadley?”

“Tomorrow morning. The ladies and I will be packed and ready for

the eight o’clock coach to Oxford. We will need transportation to the coach station at seven. I’ll leave the arrangements in your capable hands.”

“You can depend on me.”

Nathaniel Hadley put his arm around him. “You have been more like a father to all of us.”

“Do you think it’s safe to leave Tom in charge while we’re away?” said Mercy after Tom left to make their travel arrangements. She had a quiet voice that somehow upset her husband.

“Do not concern yourself with that, Mercy. Both you and Bethenny would help me most by packing the least amount of clothes you need for our trip and being ready to leave here when we go to the coach station at seven.”

Hannah finished cleaning the table. “Will I be going with you, Mr. Hadley?”

“Of course,” said Mercy Hadley.

Hannah had a pretty face, dark, mysterious eyes, and unruly black hair that somehow fell over one of over eyes no matter what she did. She was two years older than Bethenny, who thought they would lose her one day to some man. Bethenny dreaded the day. Hannah had become like a sister she never had.

Bethenny finished packing with Hannah’s help after the evening meal. She was never sure of candlelight colours, and Hannah, whose eyes could see in the dark, always knew what to choose.

“Are you packed yet?”

“No, mistress. I don’t have much to pack.”

“Then take a couple of my dresses.”

Bethenny snuffed out the candle on the table next to her bed and covered herself with a light blanket. It was late June and unusually warm. The darkness seemed blacker than usual as she closed her eyes. ***

It was still dark when Hannah rapped on her door. “It’s half-five, mistress. Time to wash and dress.”

Her father knocked on her door when Hannah was brushing her hair. He entered with a smile. “I see you’re dressed and almost ready. More than I can say for your mother.” He turned to Hannah. “Bethenny can help her mother get ready, and you can make breakfast.”

His voice trailed off as he saw the size of Bethenny’s travel bag. “Get rid of half your things and use a smaller bag. We’re not going away for a year.” He left, shaking his head. He issued the same orders to his wife when

he saw the size of her bag. He then looked for his blunderbuss, powder and shot to protect them on the road.

We’ll see about that, Bethenny thought.

“You can put some of your things in my bag, mistress,” said Hannah, unpacking Bethenny’s bag and filling another smaller bag. She folded four of Bethenny’s dresses over her arm and headed out the door. “I’ll bring my bag down and then start breakfast.”

Tom appeared before seven. “I’ve hired and paid for a couch to take you to the station. It’s waiting for you outside.” He picked up their travel bags and placed them inside the coach beside them.

Nathaniel picked up his blunderbuss and set it on his lap. He leaned forward, clutching the handhold on the inner side of the carriage. “Take care of yourself, Tom. I want to see you here and in good health when we get back.”

Tom bowed. “Don’t worry about anything. I will guard this house with my life and will be here to welcome you back.”

It took almost an hour to reach the coach station. The ride was bumpy, and Mercy lost her balance and grabbed Bethenny’s arm as they ran over a hole in the cobblestone street. Nathaniel lit his pipe and folded a blanket over his wife’s legs. They reached the coach station almost 40 minutes later. Her father alit first and reached inside for his wife, who appeared shaky when she stood. He helped her down carefully and held her arm when she stood beside him. The coachman, a young man, jumped down from the driver’s seat and helped her down from the coach.

“While you’re down,” said Nathaniel in an authoritative voice, “take our bags into the station for us.”He flipped the young man a sixpence and led the way inside.

It was a small room, cold and uninviting, with no floor coverings or a stove to take the chill out of the early morning air. Four others had taken up most of the space on a long bench against the wall. The station master, an older man with a stoop and a grey mustache, took her bags and had one of the young men in his office put them on the coach. The station exuded a musty smell, and Mercy dabbed her nose with her handkerchief.

“I’ll carry the blunderbuss myself,” said Nathaniel.

A few minutes later, they entered the coach. Nathaniel had reserved the entire interior for him and his family. Even so, there was barely legroom for the four of them.

Hannah had thought to bring blankets to cover their legs. “I’ve never been to Oxford,” she whispered to Bethenny.

“Neither have I. It’s going to be wonderful, Hannah.”

Four hours out, her mother and father had fallen asleep. Hannah looked at them and smiled. The coach hit a bump in the road from time to time, and with each bump, her father would suddenly open his eyes and ask what was wrong.

“It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”

The coach stopped, and Bethenny could hear voices outside. Angry voices shouting commands. And just as suddenly, one of the highwaymen, wearing a mask, poked a pistol at her father, who had been dozing off, suddenly came to life and grabbed his blunderbuss. He aimed it at the highwayman, who had grabbed Bethenny to use her as a shield.

“All of you. And you, too, grandpa. I want you all to leave the coach and stand in front of it. Then I want everyone one of you to deposit all your valuables in the sacks carried by my associates.”

He had a smooth baritone voice that belonged to a young man. “If you do exactly as I tell you, no one will get hurt.”

Bethenny’s mother gave him her gold rings and necklace, and Bethenny dropped her necklace into his bag. He stopped at Hannah, who extended empty palms. “Then I’ll take a kiss.” He bent down and kissed her for almost a minute.

“What about you,” he said to Nathaniel.

“You’ve already taken everything I had, except this,” holding up his blunderbuss. “Lucky for you, it’s not loaded.”

The highwayman, who had spoken to them first, checked the driver and the other passengers, who travelled on top of the coach. He reached down into the sack and found Bethenny’s necklace and gave it to her. He was wearing a black patch over his left eye, doffed his blue hat with a red feather in it and bowed to her before jumping on his horse and riding away. The other two followed.

Nathaniel aimed his blunderbuss at them. The last highwayman, who was carrying the sack, fell off his horse. The other two galloped back to help him but scattered in a hurry when they saw the blunderbuss pointed at them.

“Bind him up,” said Nathaniel. “We have his loot. Come and take what is yours.”

The young man, now unmasked, was crying in pain and begging for a doctor. “We did this as a lark. We meant no harm.”

They stopped longer than usual at the next station stop, where the village doctor was summoned to help him. Nathaniel ordered a large Brandy and put it to the young man’s lips. “You’re going to need this when

the doctor removes the pellets from your body.”

The doctor, an older man with white hair and an ear horn, opened his medical case and withdrew an instrument that looked like a pair of pliers with rounded ends in the shape of a ball. He smoothed the young man’s back and legs with a green salve made from herbs and began using his instruments to remove each piece of shot. The young man tightened his grip on the chair every the doctor dug into his skin and twisted it so that the shot came out with it.

An hour later, he finished his glass of Brandy. Nathaniel filled his glass again. “Go easy on that stuff. You need to be awake until he finishes.”

“How much longer, doctor?”

The doctor looked at his legs. Another 20 minutes or so. You’ve been a great patient.”

When he was done, the doctor applied another salve over his wounds. “You were lucky you were shot from behind and that your clothes prevented them from digging deeper into your skin. This salve will help you heal.”

Then, turning to Nathaniel: “I could use a shot of that stuff, too.” The doctor downed it in a gulp, made a face and gathered his instruments together to get ready to go.

“Thank you for coming, doctor,” said Nathaniel, slipping him a shilling.

He turned to the highwayman. “I want you to lie face down. I will tie your hands and then your feet together to your bed. This way, you won’t rub your back against the bedclothes.”

Nathaniel stood to go to the rest in the next room. “Just in case you think you can escape,” he said, patting his blunderbuss. It never misses.”

They left the inn about an hour later. Nathaniel untied his feet and hands before taking him to the coach, where he sat between Hannah and Bethenny.

He was a handsome-looking young man with blue eyes and blonde hair, tied in a knot behind his head and dressed in an open light blue coat, a white shirt, a cravat tied with a red bow. Nathaniel took it all in and shook his head.

Their coach stopped for the night at the Oyster Inn. It was half-way between London and Oxford. It was a relatively new building, a large dining room, a winding staircase to the second floor, and the rooms.

“But first,” said Nathaniel, “we eat. Landlord, you bill of fare, “as they made their way into the dining room.

The landlord patted his belly. “My wife. She’s the best cook in all of England. On the spit right now are two plump ducks and fresh green peas

in the pot. And for dessert, fresh strawberries hidden in thick cream. What say you to that?”

Nathaniel nodded. “Be quick about it. We’re dying of hunger. In the meantime, a pint of your best beer for each of us.”

***

They finished supper an hour later. Their prisoner ate with them and tried to thank Nathaniel for his hospitality but Nathaniel would have none of it. “Don’t get any ideas in your head. It’s Christian charity.”

He waved to the landlord. “I need a place where I can lock up this rascal who tried to rob us.”

The landlord’s cheeks widened. “Our storehouse. It’s a perfect place for what you have in mind. If we’re finished, we can take him there now. My wife will escort your good wife and daughters to their rooms while we lock the rascal up. Follow me.”

The storehouse was on the second floor. Nathaniel was breathing hard when he reached the second floor and had to pause to catch his breath, holding on to the railing for support. The storehouse was at the end of the corridor. The landlord took out a fist full of keys and led them to the end of the passage.

“The storeroom has a good strong lock that will keep him there forever if you wish.” He opened the door and led the way inside with the highwayman. The room contained baskets of vegetables and meat hanging from the ceiling. “There are also candles and a lamp on the sideboard.”

He turned and looked at Nathaniel. “Satisfied?”

Nathaniel nodded and led the way out, stopping at the door. “We will come for you in the morning.”

The landlord locked the door and wished Nathaniel good night as they parted at the head of the stairs.

Nathaniel fell asleep immediately but was awakened in the middle of the night by the two other highwaymen. They knew from experience the inn’s back door was rarely locked, even where guests kept their valuables. It was in the storehouse.

They rapped on the door softly and called their friend’s name. There was an immediate response from inside. “For the love of Heaven, get me out of here. I’ve been praying that you’d come for me.”

One of them had a hammer and tried to smash the lock. No results. Another swing at the lock, this time harder. Still no results.

“We can’t keep on going like this without waking someone.”

“We’ll have to risk it. Let me try.” He grabbed the hammer and swung it hard against the lock. After several repeated blows, it suddenly gave

way. The young highwayman inside pushed the door open, breathing hard and almost shouting Eureka.

“Now, let’s get out of here before someone hears us.”

They started to go downstairs, walking gingerly with each step.

Nathaniel, who awoke when they broke the lock, gathered his blunderbuss and came into the hall just in time to see them descend the stairs.

He aimed his blunderbuss at them.” Stop. One step more, and I will shoot.”

They laughed and started down the stairs. Standing at the edge of the stairs, Nathaniel took another step to get a better aim but instead started tumbling down the stairs headfirst, breaking his left leg.

The highwaymen disappeared into the shadows. Nathaniel could hear them gallop off and tried to get to his feet but fell from the sharp, piercing pain.

Most of the inn was awake now, looking at him sitting on the stairs. Hannah and Bethenny rushed down to help him as the others gathered around him. Hannah brought down a couple of pillows and a bed cover and made him as comfortable as possible.

“We can’t do much more until morning.”

Bethenny and Hannah shared the same bed. “If you don’t mind, mistress, I’d like to take the sheets and covers outside and beat all the fleas off them.

“Fleas.” Bethenny shivered. “If you need help, just ask me,” she added, helping Hannah turn down the bed and remove the blankets and sheets. They took them to the balcony, using the poker from the fireplace to beat them.

“That doesn’t mean we got them all,” said Hannah.

They lit a candle beside their bed, spread the sheet and covers, and slipped inside.

Chapter Four

Oxford was like a series of small palaces to Bethenny and Hannah as they passed by the university buildings.

“What is this place, mistress?”

“A place of learning, where men carry books instead of swords.”

They disembarked at the coach station. Bethenny and Hannah left to find a local coach to take them to an inn. Her father was in great pain and had to lean on both of them to reach the other coach.

They stopped at a nearby inn. Bethenny and Hannah left the coach to arrange for rooms for them. The lobby was sheathed in emblems of the various universities and considerably larger than the Oyster Inn.

The owner, a slim, handsome young man with a demure look in his eyes, met them halfway. “If you’re looking for rooms, I’m sorry. We haven’t even floor space left.”

“Are you sure? We can pay extra. My father has broken his leg and has a hard time even sitting.”

“Try The Tankard. It’s a bit down the road. They may have a few rooms left.”

Their coachman knew how to get to The Tankard without instruction. ‘It’s not as nice as the place we just left and it’s not as convenient they may have room for you.” He climbed to his seat and shook his reins, and headed for The Tankard.

It took almost two hours to get there. Nathaniel made them stop at four other places on their way. The answer was the same.

The Tankard was set off the road – a large building built on a large green lot with trees. Bethenny and Hannah left the carriage and walked quickly to the front door. They stopped at the bar, where a middle-aged man with grey hair and a broad smile was serving ale.

“We don’t serve ladies,” he said, turning to pour another ale.

“We’re looking for two rooms.”

“Sold out.”

“We can pay a premium. My father is sick and in great pain, and if

we don’t find a place to help him find a night’s rest, I’m not sure what will happen to him.”

“Sorry. I even had to put a couple of beds in the cellar for people. I would like to help you but I don’t have any room. And I’m not sure you’ll fare any better, no matter where you go.”

Nathaniel knew by the way they walked to the coach what the answer was.

“We can’t live in a barn,” said her mother, who started crying.

Bethenny put her arms around her. “Perhaps, not.”

“What ‘s that supposed to mean,” said her father, who had hope in his eyes.

“I met someone from Oxford at one of Ashley Richmond’s soirees. Her name is Thomasine Archer. We met four or five times at other soirees and liked each other’s company. She left London when the plague broke out, and I invited her to stay with us the next time she comes to London.”

She went out and talked to the coachman. He didn’t know the family but told them he would take them around all the better homes. It was dark by the time they found the Archers.

“Bethenny knocked at the door. “Miss Hadley to see Miss Archer.”

“Sorry, Miss, but the family has just sat down for dinner and do not wish to be disturbed.”

“Can you at least tell Thomasine that I am at the door?”

Thomasine suddenly appeared. “I thought I heard your voice. What are you doing in Oxford? Come in.”

Thomasine led them into their dining room. There was a “Turkey” carpet, an imitation Asian carpet made in England in front of a long dark dinner table lit up by three large candelabra. Their faces gleamed in the halo of the light. “Mother and father, let me introduce my friend, Bethenny Hadley and her parents.”

Harry Archer, a tall man with a round face, a reddish complexion and a resonant voice, rose at once. “You’re just in time for dinner. Here,” he said to Nathaniel, “sit next to me.”

Bethenny helped him hobble to the chair beside Archer. Hannah sat next to Bethenny and Thomasine and their conversation while Nathaniel talked about the plague and why he left London to be with the Court. “We’ve been very fortunate to escape it so far.”

“You’re in good company,” said Harry Archer. “You’ll see a lot of your friends here as well. There’s a soirée at Court two nights hence.”

“We will have to skip it. Unfortunately, we went to several inns seeking rooms and have not been able to find accommodation anywhere.”

“Then stay with us.”

“We would not want to put you out.”

“Nonsense. The Court will probably be moving back to London in the next two or three months but in the meantime, we will have the pleasure of your company. I miss male company in a household of chattering women.”

Harry Archer delighted in flowery language. Thomasine took after him, reciting whole acts from Romeo and Juliet when prevailed upon.

“Thomasine is much taken with your Bethenny. She talked about nothing else when she returned from London. Our south wing has not seen guests in years. It’s yours for the time being.”

“That is most charitable, Mr. Archer,” said Mercy.

Nathaniel turned to Bethenny. “Dismiss our coach and bring me two small yellow sacks next to our travel bags.”

“We don’t know how to repay your kindness,” said Mercy to Archer’s wife, Alice.

“I do,” said Nathaniel as Bethenny placed the two yellow sacks beside her father, who reached down to hold them in front of their hosts. “We come bearing gifts. In this hand, a sack of pepper and, in this, a bag of nutmeg.”

“A princely gift,” said Archer, smiling at his wife. She opened both sacks and shook her head with pleasure as she inhaled the smell of nutmeg and pepper.

“I’m a spice merchant, and spices are part of my life.”

“Let us enjoy a pipe beside the fire,” said Harry Archer, helping Nathaniel to a chair beside the fireplace before sitting next to him. Archer called out for his manservant, Simon, who appeared a few minutes later.

“Take Mr. Hadley’s travel bags to the three rooms in the south wing. Thomasine will show you which ones.”

”I’ll go with you,” said Bethenny rising from the table.

Archer poured a glass of sherry for Nathaniel and prepared a pipe of new Virginia tobacco for him. They settled back and talked about Archer’s extensive land holdings and the wool trade.

At nine o’clock, Archer rose. “It’s getting late — time for bed. Let me lead you all to your rooms. “

Bethenny and Hannah held their hands together to make a seat for Bethenny’s father. Harry Archer led the way, holding a three-candle candelabrum, stopping every three or four minutes to give Bethenny and Hannah a rest. The corridor in the south wing smelled musty, and Mercy began to cough. The walls were lined with paintings – all of past generations of Archer men. Hannah shivered. It was a place of ghosts, and

the darkness made her uneasy.

Ten minutes later, they turned a corner to the right, stopping in front of three doors.

“These rooms will suit your needs best.” Thomasine took her father’s candelabrum, opened the first door and showed them inside. She lit a candle on the dresser and another next to the bed. “It’s probably best if your father sleeps by himself until his leg is better.”

They helped him to the next room. The pain made him feel queasy, and he was breathing hard. “We’ll leave you now,” said Bethenny. “If you need us, just rap on the wall with this,” she added, passing him the cane next to his bed.

Thomasine pointed to the last door. “I love this room. I know you will, too. Let your mother sleep in the middle room, next to your father.”

“How was your trip from London,” said Alice Archer at breakfast. The Archer’s dining room reminded their dining room, the imitation Oriental carpet on the floor, the long sideboard with breakfast foods on large plates beside their table, and the window at the end of the room that looked out on their garden.

“More eventful than you could imagine,” said Mercy. “Our coach was stopped by three highwaymen. They made us get out and stand in front of them while one of them with a sack made us drop all our valuables in it.”

“Including my necklace,” said Bethenny.

“But she got it back,” added Mercy. “One of the highwaymen reached into the sack and gave Bethenny her necklace back.”

Bethenny’s face flushed. “They got on their horses and were galloping away when my father aimed his blunderbuss and injured one, who was holding the sack. He fell off his horse. We got all our valuables back.

“They bound him, and when we stopped at the Oyster Inn for the night, the other two came back to rescue him. My father fell down the stairs trying to stop them and broke his left leg.”

Harry Archer, who had joined the breakfast table, lost his smile when he heard what happened. “I was wondering what happened to you. Your leg needs immediate attention. With your permission, I’ll send Simon for our doctor.”

Later, when Thomasine could get Bethenny by herself: “What about the highwayman, pray?”

“It was nothing. My mother likes to dramatize things.”

“Then why are you blushing?” Thomasine was smiling broadly. They were sitting in an alcove on the south wing with a narrow window from where they could see the town.

“I can’t tell you what he looked like. He wore a patch over one of his eyes, and before he left, he doffed his hat and bowed before taking off. That’s it in total.”

“I think you like him more than you let on.”

“I will never see him again.”

They started walking past the East wing, where the others were having tea. The doctor arrived with Simon. Bethenny escorted him to her father’s room, where he examined her father’s leg. Dr. Foster was in his 50s and talked with a lisp. His breath smelled of ale, but his hand movements and the way he examined her father’s leg were deft and sure. His grey periwig sat askew from rubbing his temple.

“Good morning, Mr. Hadley. I’ve just had a look at your leg. Another day, and it would have been a problem. With your permission, I would like to do something about it.”

He turned to Bethenny. “Unless you have no objection seeing your father undressed and in terrible pain, I suggest you leave immediately and ask Simon to help me. Whatever the case, ask him to bring a couple of large glasses of Brandy while you’re at it.”

Bethenny ignored him.

“Then make yourself useful. I need to take his pants off. Lift the left part of his trunk for a few seconds as I get his breeches off.”

Dr. Foster had pulled Nathaniel’s pants off slowly with one pull laying bare the broken bone in his lower leg. Bethenny found a decanter of Brandy on the sideboard in the dining room and poured a big glass for her father. ”One other thing,” he added, “find Simon and tell him I need another glass of Brandy.”

He grunted and continued to examine her father’s leg. “Now is the time for the Brandy. “I need it now. Be off with you. Before I forget, ask him to make about 12 short sticks about 18 inches long for me.”

Seeing him take a long swallow of Brandy, she left and then pouring the rest over her father’s leg. She could see the pain flare-up in her father’s eyes.

“Are you going to stand there all day?”

She returned 10 minutes later with the sticks he requested.

“Now,” said Dr. Foster, “we can start.” He turned to her father. “This is going to hurt like hell, Mr. Hadley, but only for a minute or two. Once this is done, I will bind these wood braces around his leg to hold the bone

stay in place. Do not remove the braces for any reason. Now, take a couple of big mouthfuls of Brandy before we start.”

Dr. Foster righted his periwig and nodded to her to sit beside her father. “Now, sit on the right side of his thigh area and don’t let him move.”

He stepped back, suddenly grabbed Nathaniel’s leg and pulled on it until she heard the bones snap in place. Her father let out a cry that could be heard in the next town.

“He deserves another drink,” said Dr. Foster, passing the glass of Brandy to her.

She put the glass to her father’s lips. He took two large mouthfuls and pushed the glass away. He then closed his eyes and went to sleep. The pain in his face had disappeared.

“I need another mouthful, too,” said Dr. Foster, reaching for the glass. “For the next week or two, he should stay in bed and let nature do its work. If it oozes, send for me immediately.”

Bethenny escorted him to the front door and thanked him.

Thomasine was waiting for her when she returned. “It’s all set. I’ll be going to Court with my parents tomorrow evening. I’m counting on you to come with us. If you don’t, they will leave me with some nice old people who don’t know what to say to me.”

“I can’t say right now but we’ll see how my father is tomorrow.”

Once Thomasine started talking, she couldn’t stop. “In the meantime, Rosamund Livingstone has invited us for tea this afternoon. She has a very handsome eligible brother.”

Rosamund, who lived on a large estate on the outskirts of Oxford, met them at their front door. She had heard that Thomasine was entertaining a friend from London, a beautiful young woman, who had charmed a highwayman into giving back her necklace. Rosamund was very conscious of her beauty. She already had six suitors and had not pledged herself to anyone.

Rosamund reserved the afternoon just for the three of them. They sat close together at a small table with a lace cloth, where she poured them tea.

“I want to hear all about your dreadful encounter with that highwayman.”

Bethenny obliged her, even adding that she thought him well-born and educated by his accent.

“Do you think you’ll ever run into him again?”

“I hope not.” Then a pause. “I can see why everyone thinks you are the most beautiful woman in England. Tell us whom you think we should meet at Court tomorrow.”

“Just about everyone. The place will be crawling with some very charming, handsome young men looking for a bride.”

More talk about men until the conversation started to ebb. They were exhausted by the time four o’clock chimed in the hall.

Roger Livingstone suddenly appeared. He was undoubtedly handsome, as Thomasine had described him. They got up, thanked Rosamund for her hospitality, and headed for the door.

Roger followed them. “I took the liberty of having our coach take you home.” He bent and kissed their hands. “Perhaps we will see you tomorrow night at Court.”

“What did you think?” Thomasine asked after he had left.

“A very handsome young man, who is very sure of himself.”

Thomasine hugged her. “I would jump at the chance to marry him. What should I do? Please be nice to him on my account.”

“With someone like him, I would flatter him endlessly and hang on every word he utters.”

“Is there anyone you’re interested in?” For some strange reason, she suddenly thought of the highwayman. She had to admit there was something romantic about him.

“Not really. I fear I will die an old maid.”

“You’re too beautiful to remain unmarried for very long. Who knows, you may find the love of your life at Court tomorrow night.”

Chapter Five

Astring orchestra was playing behind a screen to their left. The floor quickly filled with dancers, twirling around and around in a dance she had never seen before. Her heart beat faster, and she grabbed Thomasine’s arm without thinking.

“The King. He’s so handsome,” said Thomasine. “And look at how Queen Catherine is dressed, and the diamonds sewn into her sleeves.” They sparkled every time she moved. The Queen touched the cross she wore on a chain around her neck and looked at the King.

Charles II and Queen Catherine Braganza sat at the far end of the room. Charles was dressed in white hose and a bright blue coat. His wig of dark curls bounced off his shoulders every time he acknowledged the bow of one of the nobles.

“I feel so out of place,” said Bethenny. “Everyone is attired so splendidly and so sure of themselves.”

Thomasine touched her hand. “Nonsense. You stand out in any gathering.”

“What’s this?” said the voice behind them. “Two beautiful young ladies not dancing.” Sir Edward Hyde, the king’s Chancellor, took each of them by the arm and led them onto the floor. “I see they’re playing one of those French dances the King is so fond of.”

At least 200 candles lit the room and gave it a feeling of warmth. Pictures of other Stuart kings and tapestries of glorious battles hung on the walls. Thomasine nudged her and looked at a dazzling young woman, who was holding the King’s attention.

“It’s Nell Gwyn. She a stage actor and rumoured to be the King’s mistress,” said Thomasine with a sly smile.

The dancers clapped as the dance ended and scattered into groups around the room. They all made her feel below their station.

Sir Edward stopped in front of a group of young men, standing to the King’s right. Sir Edward had the devil in his eyes. “And this young man,” he said to Bethenny, “will die if he does not meet you. I can see it in his eyes. His name is Jeremy Middleton. He comes from Kent but don’t hold

that against him.” He paused. “I never did get your names.”

“Thomasine Archer,” she said behind her fan. “And this is – “

“Bethenny Hadley,” said Middleton, who bowed in a way that reminded her of the highwayman that had stopped their coach. She shook her head. It couldn’t be.

He took her hand and kissed it. “You are a lovely lady, and I am filled with words I cannot utter, for you have taken my heart away.” His eyes locked unto hers. “Is anything wrong?”

Bethenny’s voice was hesitant. “No.”

“Don’t pay any attention to him. He’s just trying to keep you to himself,” said the young man beside Jeremy. “He always does this. He thinks that just because he is the best swordsman in our class that he can get away with it.”

A few minutes later, Sir Edward guided them in the direction of the King. On the way, Bethenny whispered to Thomasine: “I think Mr. Middleton was the highwayman who robbed our coach.”

Thomasine’s eyes widened. “I don’t believe it. If it is, you can be sure he will make another attempt to see you before we leave.”

“I’m scared.”

“I’m not. And you shouldn’t be either. You’ve made a conquest.” Sir Edward stopped in front of the King and Queen. “I would like to present two lovely ladies to you and your Gracious Queen.”

They bowed and curtseyed. The King lifted Thomasine’s chin and smiled. “Your name?”

“Thomasine Archer, Your Majesty.”

“You are a stunning young woman, Thomasine Archer. We must see you more often at Court. And you?” he said, looking at Bethenny.

“Bethenny Hadley.”

Charles stroked his mustache and held out his hand for them to kiss.

The music started again, and the dancers returned to the floor. Two couples led the group in a dance that had the others clapping as they marched up the floor and back again, changing partners along the way. Bethenny couldn’t help herself. She looked to see if Jeremy were one of the dancers. He was nowhere she could see. Thomasine elbowed her and nodded in the direction of the door. It was Jeremy. She moved to a spot where they would be easily seen.

Jeremy spotted them first. “I saw you being presented to the King, and then I lost you. I hope not forever.”

“You are a very bold young man, Mr. Middleton, and I am not so sure about you.”

Thomasine elbowed her again. Roger Livingstone had arrived and walked in their direction. Thomasine felt as though she were going to faint. Roger bowed as the music started again and held out his hand for Thomasine to dance with him.

“Are you going to dance with me or not?” said Jeremy Middleton, holding out his hand. They twirled around the room that left her head spinning, and she had to stop before it ended. Jeremy led her to a chair near the hall entrance, where her mother and Mrs. Archer were sitting. She sat back, catching a glimpse of Thomasine among the dancers.

Thomasine brought him to where they were seated. She introduced him to her mother and Bethenny’s mother. Thomasine smiled at her. “It worked,” she said in a whisper.

Roger Livingstone bowed and looked a bit uncomfortable.

“Roger is Rosamund Livingstone’s brother.”

“Where is Rosamund? I thought she would be here tonight. She is such a beautiful child,” said Alice Archer.

“She was looking forward to it but came down with something, unfortunately. The doctor is not sure what it is. “

He bowed his head. Thomasine touched his arm. “We will all pray for her, Roger.”

Later that night, Alice Archer made an announcement. “I have made arrangements for the ladies to take the waters at Mallory Court in Warwickshire for three days. You gentlemen,” she said, looking at her husband, “will have to fend for yourselves.”

“Bravo,” said Harry Archer.

Hannah, who stood at the edge of the room behind Bethenny’s mother, looked worried. “Your father has been asking for you. He complains that his leg feels worse and is worried he may lose it.”

Bethenny was about to excuse herself when Thomasine grabbed her arm. “Roger wants to call on me. I owe it all to you.”

Bethenny hugged her. “Right now, I need to see my father. He is in great pain and worried about losing his leg. He’s been asking for me.”

“It’s time to leave anyway. I’ll ask my father to send Simon for the doctor.”

Thirty minutes later, Bethenny and Hannah made their way to her father’s bedroom. Each carried a candelabrum. “I told him you would be back soon and that I would bring you back to him. I also gave him a small

glass of Brandy to help him sleep.”

Bethenny opened the door to see her father sitting up, his back against a large pillow and puffing his pipe. “I understand that you’ve been in a lot of pain. I want to see your leg.” She pulled back the cover and motioned to Hannah to hold both candelabra over her as she examined his leg. “ The flesh on the lower part of his leg had turned purple and was getting worse. “Simon has been dispatched to bring the doctor. Hannah and I will stay with you until the doctor arrives.” She bent and kissed his forehead.

Dr. Foster arrived, mumbling about being called in the middle of the night. Bethenny ignored his mumblings and offered him a shot of Brandy.

“You have a very understanding daughter, Mr. Hadley.”

“You asked us to notify you if his wound showed any signs of festering.” She motioned to Hannah to hold both candelabra over Dr. Foster’s head to help him see clearly. He stood up and looked at Nathaniel.

“What about the festering and the black spots?”

“In most cases, it‘s a good sign. It should start to itch soon. But under no circumstances should your father scratch it or do anything other than pour some wine over it. That may help.”

Later, when Dr. Fletcher left, Bethenny started to tell her mother about her father.

“Yes, I know, dear.” She turned and started talking to Alice Archer about Mallory Court.

“You will love it, Hannah,” said Thomasine.

Hannah looked at Bethenny, who nodded and smiled. “We will need you to make sure we come back with all our belongings.”

Harry Archer sat beside the fireplace, smoking his last pipe of the day. “Damme, if this weed isn’t addictive. It seems I cannot go to sleep unless I have a good pipe.”

There was a faint knock at the door. Simon opened the door. It was Roger Livingstone. “I don’t have good news, ladies. It seems my dear sister, Rosamund, has been stricken with fever. It’s something the doctor has never seen before and is not sure how to treat her. He wants to bleed her.

“I’m not sure about that,” said Roger. He looked at Thomasine.” Do you have a doctor you have faith in?”

Thomasine blushed. “We do, Mr. Livingstone. “He has some strange ideas, but he’s kept us alive, no matter what. He happens to be here at the moment, attending to Bethenny’s father. Would you like us to send him to you?”

Chapter Six

The coach to Mallory Court was new. Its black doors had a green crest that hinted at nobility. Even more important, it incorporated the latest springs into its construction that made their trip more agreeable.

Alice Archer wore a white satin bodice and a light blue petticoat that flowed over the floor. Her dark brown hair was a mass of curls and touched her shoulders. It framed her face in a way that showed off her best features. She had a fan and used it to cool herself as they left the outskirts and headed for Oxford. She breathed in the country air and felt like a girl again.

Bethenny and Thomasine sat opposite her, sharing whispers and knowing grins. Alice smiled, knowing their whispers had something to do with Rogers Livingstone. Hannah’s eyes never left the window. The trip to Oxford was the first time she had ever travelled outside London. And now, to her amazement, Warwickshire. Thomasine had told them she hoped they would be able to see where Shakespeare had lived. And now, to an upscale spa that catered to the rich and nobility.

Here she was, sitting inside the coach, while those who could not afford it sat atop the coach with mufflers around their necks and coats buttoned to the neck. She looked out the window just in time to see a hat blow off the head of one unlucky rider as they turned a sharp corner. The excitement was building inside her, and for the first time in her life, she felt light-headed.

They reached Mallory Court in mid-afternoon, where they were greeted by their old London friend, Rebecca Wagstaffe. “Just got back from London a week ago and heard you were coming. I’m glad to be out of there.” She hugged Bethenny and Thomasine and walked with them armin-arm to the entrance, where Rebecca sent two servants to escort Alice and Hannah and bring their travel bags inside.

“Together again,” she kept repeating as she put her arms around Bethenny and Thomasine and entered the receiving room. It was grand in every way with large tall windows with painted curtains, the latest chairs and a black and white marble floor. And overall, the scent of a strange,

intoxicating scent made them want to breathe it in. “I’ve missed you both in every way. How long will you be staying?”

“Three days,” said Alice Archer.

“This is my mother, Rebecca. We were thinking about making a morning tour of Stratford. Will you join us?”

“I’ll be your guide. We have a marvellous ribbon store in town. They stock ribbons you won’t find anywhere else.

“My parents were hounding me to come back for weeks. I met someone but that’s another story,” said Rebecca as she escorted them to their rooms. Lamps lined the corridors, and the bedrooms were the roomiest Bethenny had ever seen, each with Turkey carpets with beautiful scenes lit with bright daylight from wide windows, where they could see the church spires of Stratford in the distance.

Thomasine and her mother slept in the room next to the dark-painted winding staircase, and Bethenny and Hannah, a couple of rooms down the corridor.

Bethenny looked at Hannah. She took her to the window to see better. “You look pale. Is anything wrong?”

”No mistress. Just the excitement. I never dreamed of sleeping in so great a place. I owe it all to you. I will never forget it. Or you.”

Later, as darkness fell, they made their way to bed, a large bed that could accommodate six or seven people.

Hannah slept next to the candle and snuffed it out. Moonlight flooded the room. “Thank you, mistress,” she whispered and covered herself before closing her eyes to dream about princes and knights in armour. ***

Rebecca, bubbly as ever, was their host at breakfast and kept pumping Thomasine and Bethenny about the latest gossip.

“We were at Court on Tuesday. Nothing new. The same people. The same gossip,” said Thomasine, reaching for a piece of toast. The spa’s dining room was about the same size as their bedroom and just off the kitchen, where they could see the cook preparing a large plate of six eggs and ham.

“Not quite. Thomasine failed to mention that we were taken around and introduced to everyone by Sir Edward Hyde, the King’s Chancellor.”

“You make me jealous. What is the King like?”

“So handsome. I almost swooned,” said Bethenny. “All the ladies are in love with him. And he dresses so elegantly. He seemed to be quite taken

by Thomasine.”

Alice Archer looked sharply at Thomasine. Bethenny caught the look and quickly added: “But that’s not where her heart is.”

“Anyone, I know?” Rebecca smiled knowingly.

“Rosamund’s brother, Roger.”

“She can talk,” said Thomasine. “She’s infatuated with a highwayman, who robbed her of her necklace. And then returned it to her with a doff of his cap. I had to drag it out of her. She thinks she saw him again. At the Court of all places. He’s a student at Oxford, so it appears.”

“And a cavalier at Court, as well, as it would also seem.”

Hannah watched it all with a smile. It was better than she had ever imagined.

Rebecca, wearing a yellow petticoat with a bright blue bow, led them to a waiting coach, with wide windows meant for sight-seeing. The first stop was Anne Hathaway’s cottage, where they saw the plates used by Shakespeare sitting against a cupboard, just off a small kitchen.

“It always amazes me. With all the plays Shakespeare wrote, you would have thought he could have afforded something grander and more elegant,” said Rebecca.

Later they toured some of the shops. Hannah admired one of the hats and kept feeling its brim.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” said Bethenny. The memory of a hat she had bought elsewhere flashed in her head. “I think I’ll buy it.”

Outside as they prepared to board the coach, Bethenny offered it to Hannah. “You need something to keep the sun out of your eyes.”

Hannah didn’t move. Bethenny fitted it on Hannah’s head and took a step back with a smile. “It was meant for you.”

Hannah wiped her eyes and looked away.

The ribbon shop was already busy. Ribbons hung from hooks in the wood ceiling, and three young women were examining a new petticoat created that used red and yellow ribbons in the sleeves. They had never seen anything like it. “People come here from all over to buy their ribbons,” said Rebecca, helping Thomasine’s mother navigate the stalls. A wonderful perfume floated in the air. “Shall we join them?”

They moved from one stall after another, feeling ribbons they had never seen before. Hannah held her hat in her hands and nudged Bethenny in their direction.

He seemed to come from nowhere, a young cavalier, who almost bumped into them. Bethenny blushed. Rebecca watched with a smile while Thomasine, who had caught the encounter, edged closer.

“We keep bumping into each other.”

“Bad luck.” Bethenny didn’t know why she said it and didn’t quite know what to say next.

Rebecca held out her hand. “ Rebecca Wagstaffe. I’m Bethenny’s friend. She tells me you’re a highwayman.”

Jeremy Middleton didn’t blink. “You must be mistaken. I am a lowly student at Oxford and come from Kent. I’m here looking for something special for my mother. I’ll be going to Kent before the end of the week.” He doffed his hat and departed without looking back. His coat had the looser new fit she had seen in London, with its sleeves cut short above the elbow.

They all looked at Bethenny, who seemed dazed.

“I agree with Thomasine. I think you’re more interested than you pretend.”

Bethenny kept shaking her head.

Rebecca and Thomasine kept repeating like a chorus: “Admit it. Admit it.”

Bethenny withdrew into herself and turned away as the coach started back for Mallory Court. ***

“Do you like him, mistress?”

“I don’t know. There is something about Jeremy, the way he looks at me, his square jaw. It’s as though I knew him in another life.”

“You frighten me, mistress.”

“You asked if I liked him. I’m not sure.”

Hannah’s hands shook. She had a thin face and small hands, which she kept twisting. “There’s something else I need to talk to you about. It’s about my place here.”

“Say whatever is on your mind.”

Hannah looked at her and set her mouth. “It’s about your mother.”

“What about her?”

“Have you noticed a change in her since we left London?”

“In what way?”

“She’s forgetful. She places her hairbrush on her dressing table and then asks me to find it for her. There are other things.”

Bethenny took her hand. “She’s always been a bit like that. My father has protected her from the realities of the world. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“There’s more, I’m sorry to say.” She paused. “She does not know she

is in Oxford. He asks me every day to get her something from the cellar. When I tried to tell her we were not at home, she became quite upset and started crying. The next day, she was her old self again.”

“I’m glad you told me this. Did you mention this to my father?”

“I thought I should talk to you first.”

At breakfast the following day, Thomasine’s mother announced she planned to spend the rest of the day at the Mallory Court’s spa, located in a large sun room at the other end of the building and invited them to join her.

“What about the rest of you?” said Rebecca.

“I’m going in town to see a performance of one of Shakespeare’s plays,” said Thomasine.

“Count me in,” said Bethenny. Everyone saw the excitement in Hannah’s eyes. “What about you, Rebecca?”

“I’d love to join you but six new guests arrive today, and someone has to be here to help them get settled. But I’ll arrange for transportation for you. I understand it starts at two o’clock.”

The open-air theatre was packed by the time they arrived. There were no seats left. “But you can join the groundlings,” said one of the staff, a youth with sandy hair and a voice that was changing from high to low with every word.

The sound of a trumpet sent a ripple of excitement through the crowd, who packed the space in front of the stage. The lucky ones sat on rows of benches on each side of the stage while young women with oranges and pies circulated among the groundings.

At the sound of another trumpet, the voices stilled as the youth, who had taken their tickets earlier, came on stage with a large sign announcing the name of the play. He left a minute later, pulling a curtain across the stage behind him.

“Romeo and Juliet,” Thomasine sighed, putting her arm around Rebecca and kissing her on the cheek. “You knew all along.”

“Save a couple of those for me,” shouted an older voice behind them. Everyone laughed, including Hannah.

A figure appeared on the stage and told them what the story was all about. He left the stage with loud clapping. As the play progressed to the final scene, Hannah’s face blanched. Thomasine whispered the lines along with Juliet and was in tears as she uttered the last words. Bethenny thought of her highwayman and cried, too.

Chapter Seven

“Terrible news,” announced Mercy Hadley, wringing her hands. “Your aunt has been stricken with the plague. She has no one to look after her. Your father wants to set out at once to be at her side and comfort her.”

“He can’t go in his condition. He’ll end up losing his leg if he does,” said Bethenny. “I’ll talk to him.” She went to his bedroom directly and entered his bedroom without knocking. He was sitting up, smoking his pipe and looking fit and healthy.”

“The doctor tells me I’m a new man. My leg is healing nicely, and I should be up on my feet in three weeks.”

“What happens if you decide to be your old self and go back to London to look after Aunt Abagail.”

“So you heard.”

“You can’t go. You’ll end up losing your leg, and you won’t have your doctor around to rescue you.”

“We can’t leave her to die alone.”

“I agree. Is there someone in London we could ask to help her?”

“No.” It was a loud No that reflected his frustration. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I could go.”

“Your mother would be against it.”

Bethenny wiped his forehead and took his pipe. “Lie back and relax, and leave mother to me.”

Mercy Hadley, who was sitting in the receiving room with Hannah, had a different idea. “You’re not going, and that’s it. You’re too young. And not another word.”

“I am not a child, mother, and I shall do whatever I want. My aunt is fighting for her life. I will see to her.”

“Go to your room. We shall see what your father says.”

Later, she asked Harry Archer to help her go to London. “My aunt has been stricken by the plague and has no one to see to her. I need to take the

London coach tomorrow.”

Harry Archer looked at her and his daughter. “I assume you’re going by yourself. A lone woman travelling on her own could find it quite dangerous. I would not allow Thomasine to go to London by herself.”

“Thank you for your advice, Mr. Archer. I know you’re worried about me but if I do not go, I know my father will try and endanger himself in the process, perhaps even lose his leg.”

Harry Archer had to admire her courage. “I’ll take you to the London coach myself and ask that you be seated with two couples. Perhaps that will help to keep you safe.”

“I see that you’re still bent ongoing,” said her mother. “You’re just like your father’s people.”

“If you had the plague and alone in London, would you want me to go to you as soon as possible?”

“That’s different. I am your mother.”

“And Aunt Abagail is my aunt. My father’s sister.”

Thomasine and her father accompanied her to the coach station. It looked exactly like the London station, only smaller. She sat on the wood bench while Harry Archer arranged for her ticket and made sure she boarded the right coach. There were two other coaches in the yard. Archer helped her up the step into the coach. The hand hangings were lower than in the London coach, and there was more legroom. Not that she needed it. She was the only one in the coach when it left the station.

It had rained the day before, and the road was mired, making the passage difficult and demanding. Two hours out, after being bruised from being jostled from one side to the other, the coach stopped at the next station and took on an older woman and her daughter. That’s when she heard Jeremy Middleton’s voice telling the coachman to be careful with his bag. He climbed inside and sat down next to her.

“We meet again. Signor Orsini, the Italian astrologer, warned me a month ago that I would meet the love of my life.”

“If I had known, I would have delayed my trip to another day. I do not travel with highwaymen. And I hate to disillusion you -- but if you’re suggesting that it might be me, I am not the one your friend was talking about.”

Bethenny would have given anything to see his face. She had to admit, he set things in motion inside her the way no other person did.

“What is your sun sign?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“What month and day were you born?”

“Really, Mr. Middleton. You take too many liberties,” she said, falling against him when the coach hit a hole in the road.

He suddenly burst into song in a strong tenor voice singing a popular Elizabethan ballad of unrequited love.

The young girl clapped at the end of the song. “Do you know any others?”

“I do, providing the lady beside me doesn’t mind.”

The coach suddenly jerked, and Bethenny fell over him. “I’m sorry,” she said, regaining her seat. She looked at the older woman.

“I don’t mind if you don’t mind.”

Bethenny whispered in his ear. “March 10.”

“A Pisces. I should have guessed. If you have time while you are in London, I think you would enjoy meeting Signor Orsini.”

Bethenny settled back and smiled inside.

“You never did tell me why you’re going back to London at a time when most people want to get out of there.”

“What about you?”

“I am on my way to Kent. My father needs me.”

He sat back and looked out the window, and Bethenny could tell something was bothering him. He suddenly turned. “Do you have someone meeting you in London?”

“I am not sure.”

“Then I insist.”

“What about your father?” Secretly, she was pleased and glanced at the smile in his eyes.

The coach made London three hours later. Jeremy jumped out and helped Bethenny and the older woman get their bags and then found a coach to take Bethenny to her home.

“You may wish to reconsider your offer. I must first go to pick up my aunt. She has been stricken with the plague, and I must take her to my home, where I can do my best to help her survive from this dreadful sickness.”

“You surprise me.” Then after a pause. “I need her address so that I can tell the coachman.”

It was the time of day when people dumped the bodies of their dead for pick up during the night, causing their coach to rock back and forth as it maneuvered around the bodies. The stench of death was everywhere. Bethenny took her handkerchief and put it under her nose. Jeremy smiled and kept his thoughts.

The coach came to a stop a few minutes later. “We’re here,” said

Jeremy. “We’ll be here for only five minutes. There’s a shilling in it for you if you wait.”

The coachman touched his cap and helped Bethenny out. She led the way up a darkened flight of stairs. Bethenny saw her aunt lying in a makeshift bed in her receiving room in a sweat. A young woman, her maidservant, wrung her hands and lowered her face. Her hair was dirty and stringy, looking as though it had not been washed in months. Her clothes had been patched and smelled

“The doctor was here today,” she said in a low voice. He feels she will come down with the plague. We’re all scared and don’t know what to do, Mistress Bethenny. Thank God you’ve come.”

“We’re here to take her off your hands.” Bethenny nodded to Jeremy, who wrapped her aunt in the sheet she was lying in and held her in his arms. “Thank you for looking after her. When she is better, she will remember you.”

“We have no money left for food.” The maidservant started to cry.

Jeremy gave her a gold coin and smiled at her.” He went down the stairs first, not quite sure of where the steps were in the darkness.

“What’s this?” The coachman eyed the sheet-wrapped figure Jeremy was carrying. “If it’s the plague, all bets are off. I don’t want plague bodies or anyone with the plague in my coach.”

“An old lady with a broken hip.” Jeremy shot back.

The coachman helped them inside. “Where to now?”

They reached Bethenny’s home an hour later. Bethenny pounded on the door intermittently for five minutes before Tom finally arrived. He made a noise looking through the tiny peephole before opening the door.

“Mistress Bethenny. I cannot believe it is you. Are your parents with you?”

“Just me, and my aunt who is very ill, and Master Middleton, who was kind enough to help me bring her here, where we can look after her.”

Tom helped Jeremy carry Bethenny’s aunt up the stairs and install her on Bethenny’s bed. “It’s too late to bring Dr. Bloodworth. Could you fetch him in the morning? My aunt is burning up with fever.”

“Does she have the plague, mistress?”

“We’re not sure, Tom. She has a high fever, and her body is burning up.” ***

“And how is your family?” said Dr. Bloodworth as he examined her aunt.

“My father broke his leg but is in good spirits.”

“About your aunt, I cannot tell you that it is the plague but in her present condition, it could turn out to be the plague or something worse. I’ll drop by in the evening. In the meantime, do your best with cold, damp cloths to bring her fever down.” He headed down the stairs and was gone a minute later.

She looked around for Jeremy. He had disappeared in a puff of wind. ***

Jeremy turned up two days later, bearing gifts. “I found these in the coach,” he said, holding up a bag of honeyed apples. With his other hand behind his back, he produced a bouquet of summer flowers. “You need something to brighten your spirits.”

They were standing in the receiving room, with its large stone fireplace, large armchairs and reclining couch. Its large windows were still open, letting in the cooler night air, billowing the curtains, which reminded her of her mother, who loved all things Italian.

“Why did you come back?”

“Because of who you are and your willingness to risk your life to save others.”

“Aren’t you worried about coming to a house of death?”

Jeremy started to laugh. “Do you ever smile?”

Bethenny started to walk away. She had enough of his bantering when her aunt was suffering at death’s door.

“I came to be with you, to help you in your time of need.”

Bethenny left him standing as she went downstairs to check her father’s strongbox, hidden behind a false chimney, counted out two pounds in coin to pay for food and the doctor and his medications.

Chapter Eight

She barely noticed when Dr. Bloodworth appeared in the room. His face looked haggard and worn. He had abandoned the protective costume most doctors wore on their visits to plague victims. “That beak of a nose,” she recalled her father saying, “makes them look grotesque, like scarecrows.”

He looked down at her aunt and shook his head.

“Does she have the plague?” she asked in an unsteady voice.

Dr. Bloodworth didn’t respond immediately. He looked under her arms and then her chest. “With the plague, you can look fine one minute and an hour later, have signs of it all over the body. Even then, there’s no telling if she will survive. Some will not last the night, and others can suddenly recover. But that’s rare. So don’t get your hopes up.”

“If it is the plague, how long does it usually last.”

“Some people die in four days; others, seven days.”

Bethenny suddenly felt tired.

“Before I go,” said Dr. Bloodworth, “I’ve identified your house as a plague house. In the morning, you will see a red cross painted on your door. I’ll back in the morning.” He sighed. “It’s been a long day.” His face was haggard, and he hadn’t shaved his white whiskers in days. It made him look older.

That night Bethenny had a nightmare in which she dreamed of seeing pocked-marked faces laughing at her. She woke in a hot sweat and felt even more tired than she did the night before. She found Tom and gave him money to go to the market and buy food for them. She dressed him in a coat that reached his feet and a muffler to cover his nose and mouth.

She then returned to her bedroom to check on her aunt, who was moving her head back and forth and mumbling incoherently. Bethenny panicked. Her mind suddenly went blank. She forgot what the doctor had told her.

Tom returned a couple of hours later with two bags of vegetables and three live chickens in a wooden cage. “Would you like me to prepare

something for you, mistress? You haven’t eaten a morsel since you got back.”

“Would you kill one of the chickens and boil the meat so that we can make a broth for my aunt. She has not eaten in days.

***

Jeremy woke. His sixth sense told him he was not alone. In the darkness, Bethenny touched his shoulder. She was dressed in a flowing white nightdress with a sizeable blue shawl over her shoulders. “I need you. My aunt is getting worse. I need you to fetch Dr. Bloodworth.”

Jeremy dressed and strapped on his sword. “Where do I find Dr. Bloodworth?”

“Two streets down, turn right. You’ll see a sign overhanging the doctor’s door. But mind you may have to hammer on his door for a bit. He’s a sound sleeper and will grumble. He always does. Tell him my aunt has reached a crisis.”

Bethenny followed him downstairs and kissed him on the cheek.

He lifted the heavy oak plank used to reinforce the door. “Be sure to replace it when I leave. Your door was unlocked when I came earlier. When I return, I will knock three times.”

Jeremy walked down the middle of the street to avoid stumbling over the bodies waiting to be picked up. They had not been cleaned in days and smelled of rot and excrement. As he reached the end of the second street, he turned right, where two men confronted him. Jeremy’s right hand automatically went to his sword. He wasn’t sure whether to run or fight.

The decision was made for him by a heavyset man, who produced a club from behind his back while the other circled behind him.

”I’m here to get the doctor to attend someone who has the plague and is dying. I don’t want to fight but I will,” he said, withdrawing his sword. “Who’s first?”

They laughed and moved closer.

“Laugh all you want. But at least one of you will die before we are done. If you’re after money, I don’t have money. Now, who’s first?”

Jeremy could smell them, a fecal kind of smell, as they moved closer. The middle man advanced towards him. “This softie is mine.” He raised his club and ran towards Jeremy, yelling as he swung his club, missing Jeremy by an inch. Before he could turn, Jeremy’s sword bit into the calves of his legs. He fell, howling in pain.

“Let me repeat. I do not have any money. If you’re still bent on killing

me, let’s get it over with. It’s just you and me.” Jeremy knew if he allowed him and his big club within striking distance, he would be done for. He raised his sword over his head and advanced towards him, breathing hard.

At that moment, the cart carrying the bodies of plague victims rounded the corner. The driver kept calling out: “Bring out your bodies.” His cart stopped to load another body.

The man with the club looked at Jeremy and the cart and then dropped his club and ran in the opposite direction.

At the end of the street, a tall, thin older man stoked a fire burning tar and rosemary to clear the air of the plague. Jeremy could smell it from where he was standing. He waved to the man and took in a deep breath of the air as he turned away.

Jeremy found the doctor a few minutes later. He pounded on the door and waited before striking again and again until he heard someone coughing. “Who is it?” said the gruff voice between coughs.

“I have been sent by Bethenny Hadley. She wants you to come and told me that her aunt is in a bad way. She begs you to come and do whatever you can for her aunt.”

Dr. Bloodworth coughed again. “It won’t do any good. But I’ll come. I like young Bethenny. She doesn’t give in. Not everyone will come back to London in the middle of the plague to look after a dying relative. Wait here until I get ready.”

Jeremy spotted the man who tried to kill him earlier in the shadows, dragging away his wounded friend on a blanket

Dr. Bloodworth led the way with a lamp. Many people thought he brought the plague with him. Why do people back away when they see you?”

“Because I comfort those with the plague, they think I somehow also carry their death with me. I do not. Not so far. Some people escape it. We do not know why.”

Bethenny kept watch for them out the narrow window in her bedroom. They should be back before this, she felt, as anxiety mounted as she wondered if something might have happened to Jeremy. Then, when she least expected it, she spotted someone passing a streetlamp down the street. She could not tell if it were one man or two. Her heart started to pound as she heard someone banging at the door. Then, three distinct knocks. She ran downstairs, lifted the oak plank and unlocked the door, opening it partway. In the light, she could make out Jeremy’s features.

Chapter Nine

Bethenny held the candelabrum over her aunt as Dr. Bloodworth examined her aunt’s head, her chest and her armpits.

“She’s getting worse,” said Bethenny.

Abagail mumbled something meaningless.

“Can you give her something to help her sleep?”

Dr. Bloodworth nodded. “It’s time. When day breaks, go to the apothecary and ask him to prepare this mixture. It will help her sleep and give her peace. I will need paper, ink and a quill to write out the directions for the apothecary.”

Bethenny guided him to her father’s business room, where he wrote down the directions. “This will ease her transition, and it should be administered every four hours or when she is awake and suffering badly.”

Bethenny started to cry. She had not accepted that there was no longer any hope. Jeremy held her as the tears ran down the side of her face. He wiped them away with his handkerchief and held her until she regained her composure.

If only Hannah were here, she thought, she would know what to do. She was so tired that she felt she would never wake up. She lay down on the settee opposite her aunt and fell asleep immediately. Jeremy put his coat over her and found a pillow to sleep on the floor.

At daybreak, he woke Tom and had him take Dr. Bloodworth’s directions to the apothecary and a shilling to pay for it. When Tom returned, Jeremy prepared a dose and gave it to her aunt when she awoke and started mumbling again. Tom cooked porridge and shared it with Jeremy. “You must be very tired, Master Middleton. If you wish to close your eyes for a while, I will keep watch over Mistress Abagail.”

“What would this family do without you, Tom?” He tried to smile. “I’ll lay down for a bit but rouse me if Mistress Abagail wakes.”

Bethenny woke him a few hours later. “You were snoring. And thank you for your coat.” She caught his eye. “There’s no hope, is there?”

Jeremy held her hand. “I’m afraid not. Her lymphatic gland is swollen and red, and large swellings are all over her body, making it very painful if she moved even slightly. The pain will go away when they break.”

An hour later, bleeding appeared beneath her aunt’s skin, leaving blue and purple patches. Her breath became laboured.

Dr. Bloodworth arrived just before lunch in a cold sweat and collapsed in the chair next to Abagail’s bed. “I think I’m coming down with it,” he said, breathing hard. “Tell me about your aunt.”

“Later, when you’re feeling better,” she said, taking a damp cloth and applying it to his forehead and neck.

“No. I need to know about your aunt now. In case I feel worse and cannot help her.”

Bethenny described the blue and purple patches.

Dr. Bloodworth nodded. “She is near the end. Did you get the medication I ordered? It will help to ease her passage. If she dies this evening, prepare her body and put it outside your door.”

“What a terrible ending for such a good lady,” said Bethenny.

Jeremy offered him a shot of Brandy.

Dr. Bloodworth smiled as he sipped it. “It restores old bones. Thank you,” he said, raising his glass to Jeremy. The blood returned to his face, and he got up. “I think I’d better leave while I can.”

Bethenny and Jeremy followed him down the stairs. Jeremy unlocked the door and removed the oak plank.

Dr. Bloodworth paused in the doorway. “I pray that you do not come down with this terrible disease.”

Jeremy left with him to make sure Dr. Bloodworth reached his home, running the rest of the way back and breathing hard as he knocked three times on the door. Bethenny had prepared a meal of porridge, cheese, onions and bread. Tom had brought apples the previous day and added them to the pile. He had lost four of his front upper teeth and had trouble eating them.

At dusk, Bethenny lit the candles in the receiving room, where they had moved her aunt to a settee. She opened her eyes for a few seconds, and Bethenny helped her drink Dr. Bloodworth’s potion.

An hour later, Abagail Hadley died.

Jeremy and Bethenny wrapped her aunt in the sheet in which she had died, covering her head and face, and tying the sheet at her feet, neck and head. He then carried her body down the stairs, unlocked the door and placed her body on the cobblestone street.

The Red Cross on the door made him shiver. He had an uneasy feeling it was not over yet.

The house had a strange stillness, and Bethenny wanted to run from the place and never look back. To go back to Oxford and the comfort of her

mother’s arms. To go into hiding and never emerge again. Anywhere but where she was now.

Jeremy put down his spoon. They were eating soup, made from the chicken bones Tom had bought two days earlier in the market. Jeremy looked at Bethenny. “I want you to put on your best dress. We’re going out to celebrate tonight.”

“What for?”

“Tomorrow, we head back to Oxford. It will make your parents know that you cared for your aunt and were with her and that she did not die alone. But tonight, I want you to put on your best dress. We’re going out and celebrate with wine and good food.”

“No such place exists, not in plague-filled London. You know that as well as I do.”

“I have connections. Trust me. It will be a night to remember. I’d say that’s exactly what you need right now.” He didn’t wait for her response. She rose and looked out the window to see if they had picked up her aunt’s body. It was gone, and part of her went with it. ***

They arrived by coach outside a bakery in Pudding Lane. He led her behind the bakery to a building that looked as though it were ready to collapse. They entered, going past the vestibule and downstairs to a brilliantly lit room. A heavyset man stood just inside. “I’m sorry, this is a private club. It’s for members only.”

“Please ask M. Maurice that Jeremy Middleton waits upon him.”

The greeter stepped aside and led them to a table near the front. M. Maurice will attend you presently.”

Jeremy smiled and flipped him a shilling.

“Who is this M. Maurice?”

“Monsieur Maurice is a friend of my father, who helped him launch this private club for connoisseurs.”

A string orchestra played an Elizabethan melody from behind a green curtain, followed by a tenor singing in Italian.

“It’s wonderful,” said Bethenny, looking around her at the other women, who were wearing the latest styles from Paris, with diamonds glittering at their throats. “I must look like a drudge.”

Jeremy raised his glass of Italian wine. “Anything but. In my eyes, you are the most beautiful woman in the room.”

A tall, thin man, dressed in a scarlet waistcoat and a yellow coat, entered with some fanfare. Red and blue paint smeared his hands.

“It’s Peter Lely, the great artist. I thought he was in Oxford with the King,” said Jeremy. He’s a big favourite of the Court crowd and friend of John Dryden, the poet. Lely made his way to where they were sitting, stopping en route as people grabbed the sleeve of his coat.

Jeremy stood as Lely reached their table.

“Master Jeremy. How is your good father? Did you know he was my first patron?” He kept rambling on, stopping only to order for the three of them. “I happen to know, M. Maurice had a side of beef delivered today.” Then looking at Bethenny: “Who is this beautiful creature you’re entertaining this night of nights?”

“My friend, Bethenny. And you’re right, Lely. She is a captivating, beautiful creature.”

“How did she escape my notice?” Then, drawing close to her: “I would love to paint you when you have the time, especially when everything is bright and green in London again. I so hate this plague. It is so ugly.”

Jeremy smiled at her. “She is a rare jewel, Lely.”

Lely had a thin face with deep blue eyes that seemed to penetrate your inner thoughts. He dressed like a dandy. Jewels were sewn in the sleeves of his coat. He was forever stroking his black goatee with his left hand and wore a black curly wig that came alive when he used his hands to make a point.

The string orchestra struck up again. Lily stood and bowed. “Would you favour me?”

Bethenny felt a little uncertain. Jeremy saw the unease in her eyes and rose. “Sorry, Lely, she’s just recovering from a bad cold and is still a bit shaky on her feet.”

“I think you just want her for yourself. I understand. I was that way once.”

Their dinner arrived. Bethenny hadn’t tasted beef in months and had forgotten the taste that lingered in her mouth. They stayed an hour more, toasting each other with the latest French wines.

Later, when they had returned, she told him she was feeling exhausted, they left by coach. Her face looked white and older in some way.

“You don’t look well.”

Beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Jeremy felt her forehead and neck and wiped her forehead with a damp cloth. She was burning up, and she suddenly found herself sliding off the chair.

Chapter Ten

Bethenny could feel him undress and help her into her nightdress. He then carried her to bed, using only a single sheet to cover her. Her forehead was still on fire, and her head kept rolling back and forth. It reminded him of her aunt.

Fear loomed in her eyes. “I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

“Not while I’m alive.”

“You always have a gift for pretty words,” Bethenny managed to say. Her throat ached, and it was getting difficult for her to speak. She fell asleep in his arms. There was still a lot of Dr. Bloodworth’s potion left, and when she awoke, he fed it to her in spoonfuls.

In the morning, she found him in the chair beside her bed. The candles had burned out, and daylight shone through the curtains.

He sensed her movement and woke suddenly. “You look much better.”

“I hope I do. But I feel so weak.”

He loomed over her. “I need to shave and get ready to go to the apothecary and see what they recommend.”

She raised herself on one elbow. “Send Tom for Dr. Bloodworth.”

“Judging by the way he looked when he left us, I’d say he’s also in the grips of the plague.”

“Who else can we get?”

“Forget them. Dr. Bloodworth thinks most of them are useless and don’t know what to do. If anything, they usually do more harm than good. Can you handle being alone until I get back?”

Bethenny watched him go and shivered. She closed her eyes, feeling exhausted. When she woke an hour later, he was standing over her. “You’re back. Smile. You’re in the hands of Jeremy Middleton.”

Weakness flooded over her. She closed her eyes and went back to sleep. When she woke, she could feel the swelling in her armpits and cried.

Jeremy decided it was time to clean the room, where Bethenny’s aunt had died, starting with her bedsheets and covers. He used a pole he found in the cellar to lift the sheets and blankets off her bed and put them in a bag.

Jeremy built a fire in the backyard, carried a large cauldron to the fire, and filled it with water. He then used the pole to place the sheets and covers into the boiling water. Once the logs had turned to grey ash, he used the stick to remove the sheets and blankets, which he spread on the grass to dry in the sunlight.

Back in his bedroom, he was surprised to see some bugs on the floor. He crushed them with his boots and used Bethenny’s shoes to kill any he saw on the walls. He returned to Bethenny and looked for the presence of bugs in her bedclothes and the bed. He killed everyone he saw. His mother could never stand bugs, and he inherited her dislike of them. Just looking at them made him itch. He wondered if there were a connection between these bugs and the plague. He smiled to himself. It couldn’t be that simple. Otherwise, someone else would have made the connection.

Bethenny tried to raise her head but sat back slowly with heavy breathing. Jeremy made her a lunch of bread, cheese and garlic. She made a face when he handed her the garlic cloves. “They smell.”

“They’re good for you.”

“How could anything smelling that bad be good for me.”

“One of my professors at Oxford, the one who taught me Asian and Arabic literature, used to talk to us about how advanced they were in their medical treatments. He also talked about the importance of using boiling water to clean a sick person’s objects and clothes. He did not know why but said he found it useful in his own life.”

“I believe you but I’m not going to eat that stuff.”

“Are you afraid I won’t want to kiss you?”

She tried to laugh but began coughing again. Jeremy helped her drink a small glass of Brandy before she went back to sleep.

Jeremy opened the cellar door and called down for Tom to go to the market for food. Tom returned an hour later with vegetables and a pair of live chickens and prepared supper before retiring to the cellar. It was time to light the candles. Jeremy hated the shadows and had candles placed at six different places in the room before preparing a bed for himself on the settee opposite her bed. He sat back and studied her face. She had the look of death, and he shook his head as if to shake it away. He knew he had to deal with it. Her face looked relaxed, and he touched her forehead. To his amazement, the fever had abated.

Just before midnight, he was awakened by someone pounding on the door. He buckled on his sword and went down to see what it was. Tom had been aroused as well and was at his side.

“Mercy for the love of God. I have the plague, and no one will take

pity on me. Please open your door to me. I do not want to die on the street. I can go no farther. God, have mercy on me,” said a weak voice outside.

The voice trailed off. Tom looked to Jeremy, who nodded. Tom removed the oak bar and unlocked the door as the man collapsed in their arms.

“Move him over here, where we can make him more comfortable,” said Jeremy, pointing to an old settee in the corner. He left to find a cloth, a pail of cold water and a glass of Brandy. When he returned, he checked the man all over and had candles lit all around the settee. “I don’t want him to die in darkness.”

He bent down and felt the man’s head. It was burning the way Bethenny’s aunt, Abagail, had burned in her final hours. He wiped the man’s neck and forehead and sat down beside him. The man hadn’t shaved or washed in weeks and smelled. His hands were dirty, and the corners of his mouth and beard showed traces of dried blood. Jeremy helped him rise and drink the Brandy.

The man opened his eyes. “I saw the red cross on your door and hoped you would show mercy. I do not want to die alone in the streets.”

Jeremy put the glass to his lips. “It will help you sleep.”

The man smiled and took another mouthful. “You took a great chance on me. Let me give you some advice. There are others out there who pretend to be sick and gain entrance to rob you.”

Jeremy offered him another mouthful. “There was something in your voice that had a ring of truth. I don’t know how to explain it.”

The man didn’t hear him. He had slipped off in a deep sleep.

“You’re a good man,” said Tom.

Jeremy laughed. “My father has quite a different view. But thank you, Tom. So are you.” Then, after a pause: “He should not have to die like this.” Jeremy felt his stubbed face and wiped the vomit from the man’s ragged black coat.

“It’s a wonder his shoes didn’t fall off,” said Tom. “I think if I tried to take them off, they’d fall apart.”

Jeremy heard Bethenny cry out. He climbed the stairs two at a time and found her sitting up. “My aunt appeared to me.”

Jeremy helped her lay back. “You’re tired and seeing things.”

“No. She was sitting where you are sitting now.”

He helped her raise her head and drink the rest of the Brandy. She lay back and was quiet.

“You don’t believe me,” she said suddenly.

“I believe you think you saw her.”

“You’re not listening to me, Jeremy. She was dressed in a yellow and

green spring petticoat and wearing her favourite shoes, the ones with the pointed toes, not the square toe shoes we wear today. She had a diamond comb in her hair, and all the grey was gone. First, she held my hand and kissed my forehead the way she did when I was young. I asked her if I will die of the plague. She said it all depended on me.”

“Are you sure you weren’t asleep and dreamed it all?”

“Someone once told me that about myself.” Her mind drifted off to her friend, Faith, and the day she brought her a plate of tea biscuits. Right now, she’d like to be back in her kitchen listening to Faith go on about her teenage daughter.

Jeremy ignored her comment and decided his best approach was to let her ramble on. “What did your aunt mean when she said it was all up to you?”

“That’s all she said when she disappeared. She did say that my father’s broken leg would heal well and that we would return to London in three months.”

“Did you ask her about me?”

She didn’t respond. Her face looked relaxed now, and she touched her forehead to find her fever had abated.

Two hours later, he heard Tom arguing with two other voices. He glanced at Bethenny. The serene look on her face morphed into pain. Her head was moving back and forth. The fever had returned. He couldn’t leave her, and he couldn’t leave Tom alone with two intruders. The arguing became heated, then the sounds of Tom being beaten and crying out. He glanced at Bethenny and headed for the cellar door.

He crept down the stairs, listening to them arguing with Tom and beating him with their fists.

“We know there’s gold here. Just tell us where it is, and we’ll stop. It’s not your money, and you don’t owe them a farthing.”

Jeremy stepped off the landing and withdrew his sword. They came at him with clubs. He moved away, wounding one without seeing the one behind him.

Then, sudden intense pain and blackness.

Chapter Eleven

Jeremy woke to a pounding headache. He felt his head with the back of his hand and looked at his fingers caked in blood. He tried to move his head, but the pain was too intense. In the brief second he had turned, he saw the man he had wounded lying in a pool of blood.

His partner saw that he was awake and stood over Jeremy, giving his legs another whack with his club. “That’s for trying to kill my partner. Get up. I want to talk to you.”

Jeremy sat on a box to help get himself up and felt his legs. He looked at the man and knew intuitively this was someone who took pleasure in hurting people.

“See this old geezer. Unless you want me to cripple him for life, you’re going to tell me what I need to know.” He moved closer to the settee.

“I wouldn’t touch him if I were you.”

“You’re not in a position to tell me anything.” He reached down and pulled the man up by the shoulders.

“You should be aware that the man you’re holding is dying of the plague and that you will probably be dead before dawn.”

The man with the club was tall and muscular, unshaven, and wore a navy blue coat that was too small for him. His trouser legs showed his shins. He suddenly dropped the man and backed away.

“Your hands may already be affected. And probably, your clothes. If you’re smart, you’ll leave here immediately and run as fast as you can away from here and look for a doctor to help you live.”

“I don’t believe you. I’m not budging until I get what I came for. I know the owner of this house has a strongbox, and I want what’s in it. I’m willing to bet I’m right.”

Jeremy shook his head. “You may well be right. But I must also tell you I am a stranger to this house, tending to my wife who has been stricken with the plague. Neither of us belongs to this house. Unless you missed seeing the notice, the red cross painted on the door marks this house as a plague house.”

“I don’t give a sweet damn. What’s more, I don’t care who I club to get what I want. Plague or no plague, I’ll take my chances.”

“Before you do anything, listen to me carefully. I am a doctor. Neither I, not my wife or my servant, Tom, or the man dying of the plague on the settee, will be alive a few hours from now. The longer you’re here, the greater the chance you will not leave here alive either. I do not know if there is any money here. I understand the owner of this house fled with all his valuables. If that is not the case, and there happens to be money still here, it will be infected and infect everyone who touches it.”

“I’m not stupid.” He used his club to strike Jeremy’s legs again.

Jeremy spotted a black spot on the man’s neck. “Look in the mirror at your neck. The black mark. It’s the mark of the plague. I can help you but you’ll have to help me up.”

His companion moaned and felt his leg with his left hand. He looked at his hand sticky with blood and started to cry. “I’m going to die.”

“You won’t if your friend gets you to the hospital in time.”

“You’re a doctor. You help him.”

Jeremy looked at his companion. “Help me lift him on the table.” He removed his trousers and handed them to his companion, who laid his club against the wall. The cut from Jeremy’s sword cut deep and was still bleeding.

“Then do it.”

Jeremy sent Tom to get a needle and thread and another bottle of Brandy. “Let me look at your neck while I’m at it.”

He cocked his head and grabbed his club as he waited for Jeremy to inspect him.

Jeremy felt the black spot. “It’s larger than I originally thought. “I have a special potion that can help you heal, providing we act now. I will look after your friend first and then brew my special potion.”

“If it’s that powerful, why aren’t you using it to cure yourself and your wife?”

“Because what you have is a different kind. Your exposure to the plague will only hasten your death.”

Tom returned with a needle and thread and some wine and a bottle of Brandy. He poured the wine over the cuts on both legs.”

“Waste of good wine.”

“It will help him heal faster. Now, the Brandy. He needs a couple of big mouthfuls to ease the pain.” Then to Tom: “Grab his leg and don’t let him move it.”

Tom bushed his forehead with the back of his hand and held the left leg with both hands. Jeremy gave the wounded man another mouthful of Brandy and stuck the needle into the edge of the wound.

“I feel sick,” he said as Jeremy stuck the needle again into the flesh around the wound. Five minutes later, Jeremy finished and looked up at his companion.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. When it heals, it will leave a small scar. But the man should stay off of it for a few days.”

His companion wiped his forehead. “I have to admit I’ve never seen a doctor like you before. Now, about my neck?”

Jeremy put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “You’ll need to help me up the stairs to mix the potion.” He led him to the kitchen, where he found a bottle of laudanum and added four spoonfuls of Dr. Bloodworth’s lotion for Bethenny.

Jeremy poured the contents into a mug. The other man hovered over him and checked every move Jeremy made. “I don’t trust you. You try it first.”

Jeremy took two large mouthfuls and managed to squirt most of it back without being noticed. He passed the mug to him. “For sure results, drink all of it.”

Jeremy felt dizzy and took a long drink of water. Three minutes later, the man slumped to the floor. He hobbled to the cellar door and called Tom.

“I feel I’m going to pass out. Help me tie him up so that he can’t move and fetch the constable as soon as you can. “

The man was big and bulky and took twice as long to tie his hands behind his back and feet. Then they set him up against the legs of one of the chairs and tied his chest to the legs. He suddenly opened his eyes. His mouth opened and closed. His chin dropped, and he started to snore.

They went down the cellar. The other man had disappeared, leaving the door ajar. “I’ll go for the constable,” said Tom, slamming the door shut behind him. Jeremy locked up and checked the old man on the settee. He was breathing hard, and his eyes opened, and he saw Jeremy’s face and smiled. Jeremy held him in his arms. A minute later, he died.

Tom arrived with two constables 10 minutes later. Jeremy let them in, and with Tom’s help, he was able to climb the stairs.

“He’ll be out of it for at least another hour. The young man escaped. I wounded him with my sword. The older man is strong and mean. There’s the club he used to knock me out. My head still aches.”

Jeremy stood against the wall to keep him from following. “Right now. I need to sleep.”

“Then what happened?” Bethenny was propped up by pillows behind and beside her. ”We tricked him into drinking laudanum and tied him up. Tom went for the constables, who took him away.”

“You should have seen Master Jeremy. He’s an incredible swordsman and wounded one of them,” said Tom in a louder voice than usual.

“Sorry I missed it.” She fell back on the pillows and opened her eyes again. “I gather there’s more.”

“We took in an old man who begged us for shelter. He had the plague and didn’t want to die in the street,” said Jeremy. “He died in my arms after sipping some Brandy. I’ve prepared his body and will leave it outside for pick up tonight.”

Bethenny closed her eyes with a smile, and her face was at peace. Tom looked at Jeremy, who remembered the ramblings about her aunt.

“I hope it bodes well, Tom. She looks a bit better but with the plague, you never quite know for sure. Some people survive the plague. Not many. I’m hoping she’ll be one of the fortunate ones. We’ll know better tomorrow.”

Jeremy fell asleep in the chair opposite her bed. It had become his bed for the past two days. He woke suddenly to see Tom standing over him. “It’s Mistress Bethenny, Master Jeremy. She’s awake and calling for you.”

He tried to stand. His knees buckled, and Tom had to hold him up.

Bethenny opened her eyes. “I dreamed that you were murdered.” She reached out for his hand. “I feel sick to my stomach.”

“You need to eat.” He looked up at Tom, who disappeared into the kitchen.

“It’s more than that. I feel I am close to death.” Tears formed in her eyes and ran down her cheeks. “If it is that I am to die, be at my side, I beg you.”

TChapter Twelve

he first thing Jeremy noticed was the rash on her face. He turned down the covers to see that the rash had spread to her arms and legs. She had become delirious. Bethenny’s tongue thickened when she tried to speak. Her eyes tried to do the talking for her. He poured a glass of water and lifted her head to help her swallow. She choked and coughed out the water. Even in pain, she looked beautiful.

Deep down, Jeremy knew she would either survive or die today. He felt her forehead. It was burning again, the way her aunt did before she died. Bethenny drifted in and out of sleep, vomiting from time to time. He cleaned her face and used another cloth to wipe her forehead and neck.

He heard that some doctors ducked their patients’ heads into a bucket of cold water to bring their temperature down but he had some doubts about that. He added another cloth to her neck and forehead, changing them every five minutes. He held her up so that Tom could feed her spoonful of chicken soup, followed by another dose of Dr. Bloodworth’s potion. She lay back and went to sleep. Jeremy continued using damp, cold cloths to her forehead and neck.

At nightfall, she awoke. Jeremy was asleep in the chair beside her. She sat up by herself and looked around the room. Tom came to light the candles and looked at her. She smiled at him.

“You look better, Mistress Bethenny.”

Jeremy woke and checked her arms and legs for rash. “You look like a new person.”

“The fever is gone, and I feel hungry.”

“I’m not a betting man but I’d be willing to stake everything I have that you’re going to make it.”

Tom returned with a bowl of chicken soup and a plate of chicken and vegetables.

Bethenny looked even better after eating and stayed up past 10 o’clock before closing her eyes.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” said Tom. “How is it that

you survived the plague, giving comfort to Mistress Abagail and helping Mistress Bethenny, and not coming down with the plague yourself.”

“Not sure, Tom. I just used my common sense. I killed all the bugs I saw in the house, boiled my clothes when I washed them and bathed in hot water every day. I also check for bugs and kill everyone I see. With bugs, you never know where they’ve been.”

“How can I possibly repay you?” said Bethenny when she opened her eyes and saw him half-asleep in the chair.

Jeremy opened his eyes. “By getting better. And when you’re up to it, you need to write a letter to your parents and tell them everything that has happened. You can dictate it to me and sign it if you wish.”

“I’d like that.”

He rose and opened the curtains and snuffed out the candles. “It’s time to see the sun again. It’s a great healer. In two weeks or so, you’ll be the old Bethenny and ready to return to Oxford.”

“Will you be returning with me?”

“No. Someone needs to guard your home. Old Tom can’t handle it on his own,” he added, telling her about the two robbers, who tried to steal her father’s money. Your parents will need you now. I’ll be here when you return.”

A week before she planned to return to Oxford, Jeremy said he had a surprise for her. “Someone who could change your life. You’ll love it.”

She knew where they were going when they turned into Pudding Lane. “M. Maurice,” she shouted in his ear.

“The surprise is the person who will be joining us.”

They were seated and drinking French wine when Signor Orsini sat down next to Bethenny.

He raised his glass to her. “Signor Jeremy didn’t tell me I would be meeting so beautiful a lady. Bravo, Signor Jeremy.”

“Did Signor Jeremy tell you who I am?” Orsini liked to punctuate his words with his hands. He was clean-shaven, with dark, quick eyes that seemed to be everywhere. His black hair was cut short in a fashion she had never seen before. He had a thin face with unbelievably white teeth and was dressed entirely in black.

The room had hardly any furniture in it. Just a small table. No chairs. Aside from the light from the dormer window, the corners of the room were in darkness. Eight others were with her.

He didn’t wait for a response. “I am Giacomo Orsini, the famous

astrologer.” He saw the blank look in Bethenny’s eyes. “I foretell the future. People keep asking me why I did not come down with the plague. I told them my stars told me that I would not have the plague but that I would face a great tragedy in the future, perhaps a year from now.”

They dined and laughed for the next hour, sitting on the floor in a semi-circle. Bethenny felt uneasy about the young woman dressed in black. She could feel the hate in the young woman’s eyes and her admiration when she looked at Jeremy. They talked about astronomy and its effect on their lives. The young man sitting next to the woman in black had lit three candles and placed them in the middle of the circle. At the end of the meal, Orsini looked deeply into Bethenny’s eyes.

“It’s quite scientific,” said a young man. It’s all based on where the planets were at the time of your birth, even where you were born.”

“Not everyone believes in the stars,” Orsini broke in. “But like the others who have plotted their future will tell you: It’s amazingly accurate.”

“What can they tell me about my future?” she said, looking at Jeremy and smiling. “Will I be getting married?”

Orsini was still standing in the middle of the room. “But first, we need the date and time of your birth and where you were born.”

“July 23, 1643.”

“Was it in the early morning?”

“I’m not sure. Does it matter?”

“Yes,” shouted one of the young men with sandy-coloured hair and freckles on his cheeks. “We’ll assume early morning. Next, where were you born?”

“London. About a mile from here.”

Orsini and Stephen, who worked with Orsini, helped the others find the nations and other details in Orsini’s books. He offered them a glass of Italian wine while the others worked with Stephen to create her horoscope. Bethenny sipped the wine and smiled at Jeremy, who was talking to Orsini about the universities of Europe.

About 20 minutes later, Stephen stood in front of the room again. “Let me start by saying there are question marks in your horoscope for the coming year. First, we see that you are leaving London soon and will be parted from your friend for some time. You will be united under challenging circumstances. After that, everything is blurred. We are not sure why.”

Bethenny listened with her mouth open and kept shaking her head.

“Shall I go on?

She nodded. “You and those close to you will have to deal with very trying circumstances.”

“That’s enough.”

Later, Orsini invited them to join him at a Witchen celebration on the outskirts of the city. “It’s not what you think,” said Orsini, who was stroking his black goatee. “They don’t put spells on anyone, nor do they make sacrifices. They’re all about healing. I owe them for protecting me from the plague.”

Jeremy looked at her. Bethenny didn’t have a good feeling about it but saw that Jeremy wanted to go. She owed him that.

They all crowded into the coach. Bethenny had to sit on Jeremy’s lap. Excitement was in the air. She could hear it in their voices and the way they broke out into song along the way.

They stopped at the edge of a forest and walked single file in silence along a path to a clearing, where a dozen women, dressed in long, flowing white robes, raised their hands towards a giant bonfire that crackled and snapped amid their raised voices.

“Their rituals harken back to ancient times – Celtic and Druid practices – focusing on nature, the elements, and the Ancient Ones.”

They suddenly rose and began marching around the fire, raising their candles and chanting.

Jeremy touched her hand. “You’re shivering.”

“It’s all right.”

He took off his coat and put it around her shoulders. She looked up at him and smiled. “I think we had better get you home. The last thing we want is a relapse.”

Chapter Thirteen

The trip to Oxford was long and tedious, but all that changed when she saw her mother and Thomasine waving to her when the coach stopped.

“You look thin,” said her mother. “What happened to you?”

“Did you not read my letter?”

“Yes.” Her father answered for her mother. “You’ve gone through a terrible ordeal and very lucky to be alive. But most of all, you’re back with us.”

Thomasine hugged her and whispered: “I’ve got exciting news.”

“So have I.”

Her father was not in a good mood. He was walking with a limp. He ignored the doctor’s advice to make sure the fracture had entirely healed before throwing away his crutches. He complained they hurt his arms and was too stubborn to admit he was wrong.

Harry Archer had been waiting for them at the door and welcomed her back “to the land of the living.” His hair had grown greyer and was tied in the back with a red ribbon.

Alice Archer had arranged a special dinner to celebrate Bethenny’s return. The silverware gleamed in the light from three candelabra on a white linen table cloth. “You were a courageous young woman to go to London by yourself and look after your aunt when she was in dire need of help,” said Alice. She was wearing a new hairstyle that was quite becoming and a light green dress that almost covered her shoes.

Hannah was standing behind her mother’s chair and caught the smile in Bethenny’s eyes and the slight nod of her head.

After dinner, Bethenny went straight to Thomasine’s bedroom. “You first,” said Bethenny, shutting the door behind her. “My tale is somewhat longer. Besides, I can see you‘re bursting to tell me your news.”

Thomasine’s bedroom was much larger than hers. It was wallpapered with rural English scenes, and the floor was covered with Italian coverings. Her window was also large, and looked out onto the garden at the back of the house.

They sat on the edge of Thomasine’s four-poster bed. “Roger told me he wants to marry me but wants to wait until he brings his family on side. His father would like him to marry the daughter of a wealthy London banker.”

“What does Rosamund think?”

“She would like to see us united.”

“Speaking of Rosamund, when I left for London, she was suffering a breakout of sores on her face.”

“Her face is a bit better now, but she refuses to go out or see anyone unless they’re old friends. Now, it’s your turn.”

Bethenny sighed. “I’m not quite sure where to begin.” She stopped suddenly. “You must promise never tell anyone what I’m about to tell you. Not even Rosamund.”

Thomasine edged closer.

“Promise me. The cavalier highwayman you met with me turned up when I least expected. He joined my coach to London a couple of station stops from Oxford. I accused him of following me, but he denied it, saying he was on his way to see his parents in Kent.

“Before I reached London, I told him I was going to look after my aunt who had been stricken with the plague.”

“I bet that scared him off?”

“On the contrary. When we reached London, he took charge and arranged for a coach to take me to my aunt. When we arrived at her home, he joined me, took one look at my aunt, and advised me to take her to my home. He wrapped her up in the sheet from her bed and carried her to the waiting coach.

“When I reached my home, he carried my aunt upstairs and helped me comfort her. He even wrapped her in a sheet and carried her from the coach to my house door. We had to hammer on the door at least 50 times before Old Tom opened the door.”

“Wasn’t he scared he would get the plague?”

“It didn’t seem to bother him.”

Thomasine smiled. “He’s in love with you.”

“We looked after my aunt until she died, and he wrapped her in a sheet and placed her body for pick up the next day. And when I came down with the plague, he did everything to nurse me back to health and become free of the plague.”

“I didn’t know you had the plague,” said Thomasine, drawing back.

“Yes, but somehow I was able to overcome it and pronounced free of the plague. I can’t give it to you if I don’t have it. According to Dr.

Bloodworth, who treated my aunt and me, some people do survive it. I guess I’m one of the lucky ones.”

“Have you told your parents yet?”

“I will later.”

Hannah was waiting for her when Bethenny left Thomasine. Her thin face seemed somehow more delicate, and so did her body. Her dark eyes looked tired. She was wearing one of Bethenny’s cast-offs, a green petticoat that looked better on Hannah than her.

“I am so happy to see you back and looking so healthy. I have prayed for you every day, mistress,” said Hannah as they walked to their room. The candle cast strange shadows on the wall and the floor. Bethenny shivered.

“Thank you, Hannah. I missed hearing your wisdom so many times.”

The following day, her mother insisted she stay in bed at least for a week and get her strength back. Hannah combed her hair and left to bring her breakfast on a tray. “I told your mother I would see to your needs. Mistress Thomasine would like to talk to you if you feel up to it.”

She liked the room Thomasine had selected for her. It looked out on the street, and the large window in front of her bed flooded the room. When we return, I’ll ask my father to have larger windows installed in my room, she thought.

“Ask Thomasine to bring me something interesting to read.”

Thomasine looked as though her mother had died. “It’s Roger. He came this morning and asked me to walk in the garden with him.”

Bethenny was about to shout Hallelujah but waited for Thomasine to continue.

“He walked among the flowers for 20 minutes or so before he told me that unless he married the woman his father had chosen for him, his father would no longer continue to support him and that he would have to find his way.” Tears ran down her cheeks, and she began to sob. “I want to die.”

Bethenny reached out and held Thomasine, rubbing her forehead and back until her sobbing stopped. “You’re the only person I can talk to about it. I don’t know what to do. I feel like ending it all.”

***

Bethenny’s father looked at her face, carefully turning it to get the best light. “Perfect, you’ve recovered without a hint of a blemish,” he said, withdrawing his hands. “You must have had a miracle worker for a doctor.”

“I didn’t have a doctor. The one I had for Aunt Abagail died of the plague.”

“Then who –“

“A cavalier whom I met at court happened to be on the coach to London, and he helped me bring Aunt Abagail to our home and look after her. When I came down with the plague, he looked after me, too.” Then, after a pause: “If he had not been there, I should have died.”

“If you’re telling me he was just a Good Samaritan, I don’t believe you.”

Bethenny shrugged and didn’t see the back of his hand knock her so hard that she felt dizzy and had to hold onto the chair to keep her from falling.

They were sitting in the receiving room. Nathanial sat beside the fireplace and was looking at her with disgust. “I brought you up better than that. The story will get out. You can bank on it. And your reputation will be ruined forever.”

She didn’t respond.

“Get out of my sight.” ***

Two days later, Jeremy turned up and asked for her.

“Someone is at the door, mistress, and is asking for you,” said Simon.

Bethenny’s heart leaped inside her. She excused herself and went to the door. There he was, looking as handsome as she had ever seen him.

“I heard you were ill.”

She shook her head. “I never had a chance to thank you and saving me from certain death.”

He bowed his head. “You are very important to me, Mistress Bethenny. If you were to die, I would not know what to do.”

Her mother suddenly appeared behind her, followed by her father. “Is this the scoundrel who took advantage of you in London?”

Jeremy, standing beyond the door and holding his hat, bowed. “Jeremy Middleton, your servant, Mr. Hadley. Before you go any further, permit me to assure you I am not a scoundrel but the son of a nobleman in Kent. His name is Sir George Middleton, whose title I shall inherit on his death.”

“You took advantage of my daughter when she was vulnerable and have ruined her reputation forever. I am sure you have already regaled all your friends of your little escapade in London.”

“Why would I do such an evil thing, Mr. Hadley? I was brought up better than that and, above all, to help people when they are in great need and do so without any thought return.”

Nathaniel took two steps back. “If I ever hear that you have spread any story about you and my daughter, I will seek you out with my blunderbuss. You can most certainly count on it.”

Jeremy bowed his head again. “Your servant, Mr. Hadley.” He turned to Bethenny’s mother, who appeared fascinated by him. “He has such exquisite manners, “she told Bethenny when they were by themselves.

Hannah, who had been watching it all from a distance, was smiling. What a handsome man, she couldn’t help thinking and hoped he would marry Mistress Bethenny.

“There’s something familiar about that man,” said her father later. “The way he stands and arrogance in his voice. Such men feel entitled to slander people like us.”

As Bethenny and Hannah got ready for bed, Hannah whispered, what a handsome young man. Are you in love with him, mistress?”

“Yes, and if you love me, never even mention his name to my father.”

Chapter Fourteen

QueenCatherine bubbled with goodwill. Charles studied her for a few minutes and looked away when Sir Edward Hyde whispered something in his ear. In ringlets that flowed around her shoulders, her dark hair seemed to shimmer in the candlelight. Her eyes, as dark as her hair, had a hint of fire if crossed. Her voice was soft, and there were soft creases around her mouth from trying to smile a lot.

Catherine spotted Bethenny as soon as she arrived with her mother and Thomasine and indicated that she wished to speak to them with her hand. She held both of Bethenny’s hands and drew her closer. “I understand you were stricken by the plague and have recovered miraculously, thanks to the ministrations of Master Middleton.”

Mercy looked at her daughter but kept her thoughts to herself.

The Queen drew Bethenny closer. “I can see why. You are a lovely young woman, and I wish all good things for you.” She paused to look into Bethenny’s eyes. Bethenny wasn’t prepared for what the Queen said next: “We have a special interest in Master Middleton and have plans for him that do not include you.”

Bethenny could hear her heart explode in her ears. She didn’t know what to say and said nothing. The Queen turned to engage someone and left Bethenny feeling naked and standing alone. She bowed to the Queen,

who acknowledged her with a slight nod and moved off.

“What did the Queen say to upset you? You look as though your mother and father had just died,” said Thomasine, putting her arms around her.

Bethenny was ready to cry. “It was a warning for me not to have hopes for Master Middleton.”

Her mother, who caught her last comment, smiled. “It’s for the better. I imagine a lot of women seek out his company. I also suspect Her Majesty does not want to see you here.”

It was Bethenny’s time to smile. Jeremy was nowhere to be seen. The King was locked into a serious conversation with Duke Buckingham. The King suddenly shook his head and pounded the arm of his chair. “You’re a disappointment, Buckingham. I am sorry to have entrusted you with this.”

The music struck up, and a young man, dressed in a tight-fitting red coat with a dark blue waistcoat and pointed shoes, began to sing. Dancers entered the floor. The Duke of Shaftsbury was at her side and offered his arm to join him in the dance. He tried to engage her in conversation without success. He bowed to her and left without a word when the dance ended. Bethenny was then approached by one of the younger courtiers, very nervous and stuttering. He never spoke a word during the entire time of their dance and blushed when he tried to kiss her hand.

Bethenny could tell he wanted to ask her to dance with him again, but Thomasine grabbed her arm. “I’d like to introduce you to my new friend. His name is Andrew. He’s a poet and wants to be another Shakespeare.”

Bethenny laughed despite herself, turning just in time to see Jeremy walking towards her. “Before you say another word,” she said as he sat next to her, “you might wish to talk to the Queen first.”

She turned away from him.

“What’s this all about?”

“I do not wish to talk about it.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes before he suddenly rose and walked to the Queen. Bethenny watched the Queen’s face as she talked to him, changing from a smile and touching his shoulder with her fan to sudden seriousness. He rose, bowed to the Queen, and left the gathering. ***

“The Queen is pressuring my father to engage me to a member of the Portuguese royal family to strengthen England’s position against Spain. I have seen her portrait. She is attractive enough, but she is not you,” Jeremy told her the next day.

“I have to tell you in good conscience that the Queen is right. Your

future, and our country’s future, is with this lady who has been chosen for you,” said Bethenny.

They were sitting in the Archer’s receiving room. Thomasine stood at the door to prevent anyone from coming in.

Jeremy sat back. “I have a question for you. And I beg you to be honest with me. Do you love me?”

Bethenny could hear her heart racing. She looked at him in the eyes. “Yes. Enough to ruin your future.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then let me make up your mind for you.”

“I don’t want you to get into trouble over me,” she said, taking her eyes off his face for the first time.

“Then let me handle this my way. It may take months, and things may change, but I’ll bring my father on my side before I come back. Promise to wait for me.”

“Where are you going?”

“Back to Kent. Out of sight of the Queen and her clique.” He kissed her quickly on the lips, long and hard, and left.

Thomasine sat down as soon as he left. “What was that about? You look happy one second and sad the next.”

“He told me the Queen wants him to marry a member of Portugal’s royal family.”

“And your reaction, pray?”

“He’s going back to Kent to help his father and be out of the Queen’s sight. He promises to come back after he brings his father onside and begs me to wait for him.”

“Too bad Roger doesn’t have his backbone.” There was a deep sadness in Thomasine’s eyes Bethenny had not seen before.

“It’s over then?”

“Roger is not a man who is prepared to stand on in his way of becoming rich. Better to know that now than finding out later.” Thomasine tried to put on a brave face, but a tear ran down her right cheek.

Hannah stood at the door. “I think Hannah needs me, “ said Bethenny. Thomasine tried to smile. “I think we need to talk about our situations later.”

Hannah bowed her head. “Your mother is getting worse, and I no longer know what to do.”

“What is she doing now?”

“She sits on the edge of the bed and rocks back and forth while talking to imaginary people.”

Bethenny shook her head in a backward glance at Thomasine and followed Hannah to see her. Her mother was still in her bedroom and sobbing. “Please take me with you, mother. Don’t leave us.”

Bethenny wanted to cry. “How long has this been going on?”

“Ever since you left to go to London. Something inside her changed when you left. She would drift into her memories and then, suddenly, be herself for a week or two.”

“Does my father know?”

“Not to my knowledge. I’ve tried to handle it myself.”

“Try humouring her. She does not appear to be a danger to herself or anyone else. Maybe she’ll snap out of it.”

Bethenny thought about talking to her father about it but decided not to. It would just give him something else to worry about. She would have liked to speak to him about the Queen and Jeremy but sensed this would only add to his worries. ***

Harry Archer opened the door to a messenger from the Court. It was addressed to Bethenny and bore the Queen’s seal. “What’s this about?” he asked, passing the letter to her. Bethenny let it lie there and returned to her breakfast. When she finished, she picked up the letter and headed for her room.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Archer couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He would have opened the letter from the moment it was in his hands.

Later, sitting on her bed, Bethenny laid the letter beside her. The pit of her stomach told her it bore no goodwill. She opened it and made herself read it slowly:

This is to inform you that your presence is no longer needed or desired at Court. Should you choose to ignore my warning, you will be chained and sent to the tower.

We understand that you were stricken by the plague and have subsequently recovered. Our doctors and scientists have informed us that you could pass on the plague to everyone you meet in the event of a relapse.

After you have shown no signs of the plague after five years, we will again welcome you with open arms.

Bethenny read it a few times and shook her head. One thing she knew, it would be wise for her to keep all this to herself.

There was a knock. Thomasine entered and sat down beside her. “I could tell you already knew what was in the letter.”

Bethenny passed it to her.

“She knows as well as I do that you show no signs of the plague. She wants you out of the way until Jeremy is married to the lady she has chosen for him. What do you plan to do?”

“Keep my own counsel, absent myself from the Court, and give Jeremy enough wiggle room to solve the problem.”

Thomasine hugged her for a long time. “We’re both cursed. If you’ve been banned, so have I. It’s time for us to chart our destiny. When I think of Roger, I’m glad now. It’s freed me to seek someone more to my liking, someone to love me enough to put me before his family or King.”

“Or Queen,” Bethenny added with a smile. “When we go back to London, I’d like you to come and stay with me.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Idon’t understand it,” said Nathaniel Hadley. “Every member of the Court has been invited to the Grand Ball except us.”

“Maybe it slipped their minds,” said Mercy.

“I think not. Harry and Alice have been invited but not us.”

A boil on Bethenny’s neck alarmed some of her friends, even though Dr. Foster said it not the plague. The story spread around the Court, and a lot of the Archer’s friends apologized to them for not being able to join them at one of their special dinners that featured a well known harpist.

The month went by slowly until Harry Archer asked Nathaniel to have a chat with him. They retired to the receiving room and its warming fireplace. Harry passed him a pipe and one for himself, lighting their pipes with a straw from the fireplace.

“I know this is not a good time for you and your family, Nathaniel. But I need your understanding. Even though Dr. Foster has examined Bethenny and has declared her completely free of plague, everyone, it

seems, believes she is spreading the plague all over Oxford.”

. The curtains had been pulled back, and the late afternoon sunshine lit up the room. Some of the ashes had spilled over on Nathaniel’s vest, and he brushed them off with the back of his hand.

“I understand perfectly, Harry. It’s time for us to leave. I’ve also heard the whispers and feel it’s better for you, and for us, to find another town where we can wait out the plague.”

Nathaniel took Harry’s hand in his. “I want to thank you and your good family for taking us in at a tough time for us. We will never forget your kindness. Know, too, that our house is always open to you and your family.”

“Where do you plan to go?”

“I’ve written to my cousin in Burford and asked him to look after us until the plague has left London.” Nathaniel stood. “I will never forget what you did for my family and me at a time when I was badly hurt and in danger of losing my leg. Do not forget us, I pray you.”

***

Harry Archer arranged for transportation to the coach station.

Mercy and Nathaniel boarded the coach first, followed by Bethenny and Thomasine, who decided to go to the coach station to see them off. “I’ll write you from Burford and let you know when we plan to return to London,” she whispered in Bethenny’s ear and kissed her.

Their bags were packed, and Nathaniel thanked Harry and Alice, who stood in their doorway until the bags were placed atop the coach and they disappeared from view. The coach was one of the new ones, black and shiny, with six black horses that snorted and pawed the ground while waiting to go.

They kept their thoughts to themselves as the coach made its way out of Oxford. “I will miss going to Court,” Mercy said out of the blue. “When will we reach London?”

Nathaniel looked at Mercy in a strange way but didn’t comment. Hannah caught Bethenny’s eye and turned away.

It rained most of the way. An hour out, her mother started coughing over and over. It didn’t stop until they reached Burford, just in time for lunch. The Burford Inn was next door to the coach station, where Bethenny’s father arranged for a coach to take them to the home of Ben Hadley, his cousin.

The inn was smaller than the Oyster but had a clean smell, and the

people were friendly. Mercy led the way into the dining room while Nathaniel chatted with the innkeeper. They were the only ones in the dining room. A beef roast was on the fireplace spit and made them even hungrier. The serving maid, the daughter of the innkeeper, served them almost at once. There were no windows in the dining room, lit with candles at each of the round tables.

Mercy ordered lunch for everyone – beef stew, with thick slices of bread and butter, fresh from the morning’s churning. They cleaned their plates with leftover bread and started to feel that things were finally going to turn out well.

The trip to Ben Hadley’s farm was a different story. The only coach had no roof and was open to the elements. Hadley had only one horse, and it did not move at the speed of the London coach. It rained intermittently, setting Mercy off coughing and sneezing again, just harder now. Bethenny took off her jacket and put it over her mother’s shoulders.

By the time the coach entered a road off the main highway, Bethenny’s hair was drenched and hanging in strings over her cheeks. Her father was singing a song she had never heard before.

“We’re coming close to cousin Ben’s home,” said Nathaniel as the coach rounded a curve in the road. His cousin’s home looked inviting to Bethenny after their rain-soaked trip from town. White smoke curled from the chimney, and a dog, tied to a post in front of the entrance, began barking.

Ben Hadley opened his door as soon as the coach clattered into his yard. Nathaniel jumped off the coach like a young man to hug his cousin before holding him back two or three times to scan his face. “I’d know you anywhere. You look just like your father.”

The coach driver helped Mercy, Hannah and Bethenny out of the coach, picked up their bags and placed them inside the door. Nathaniel thanked him and gave him a silver coin.

“Ben, let me introduce you to my family – my wife, Mercy, our daughter, Bethenny, and our maidservant, Hannah.”

Ben, feeling ill at ease, introduced his wife, Elizabeth, and his two sons, Ben Jr. and William.”

“Your father’s name.” Nathaniel smiled broadly at Ben’s wife, as big as her husband. She had a lovely face that showed dimples when she smiled. “You have a beautiful face,” Nathaniel said to Elizabeth, who blushed and

hid her smile behind her hand.

“Thank you,” she said in a soft voice. “But next to your good wife, I am nothing.”

“I was about to say the same thing about you,” Bethenny said to her.

They all laughed. Still, in their teens, the boys picked up their bags and looked at their father, who nodded to them.

“We have a small cottage behind us. It will keep you warm and dry. It has three rooms and a kitchen, two beds and a great fireplace that heats the entire place.”

“How is the farm these days?” said Nathaniel, as he watched the boys disappear with their bags.

“Not good this year. A lot of rain, and to top it off, our horse died in the spring. I have not been able to replace him.”

“We’d like to replace your horse. You’re family, Ben. You’ve taken us into your home with love in your heart. If you agree, you and I will walk to town tomorrow and come back with another horse.” ***

The cottage was a massive disappointment to Mercy, who complained about the fireplace, the beds and the windows. “I don’t like anything about it,” she cried to Nathaniel. “I don’t want to live in this pigsty.”

“My cousin has taken us in when no else will. Hannah can cook all your favourite meals, and once the rain stops, you’ll come to love its beauty.”

“I like cities. Country places like these make me feel sad.”

“You’ve been a bird in a gilded cage all your married life, Mercy. It’s time for you to see and feel real beauty. I remember spending my summers here as a boy. They were the happiest times of my life.”

Mercy went into her bedroom. “I still hate it,” she said, slamming the door behind her.

Bethenny loved the cottage as much as her father, who had lived in it before his family moved to London. They were sitting in the front room on chairs from the old farmhouse he remembered as a boy. Nathaniel warmed his hands at the stone fireplace that gave off incredible heat. There was a long mantle above the fireplace. A long white and yellow garland of summer flowers had been placed along its length.

Ben’s father had crafted the wooden table. Place settings had already been laid out for them, along with beer mugs. There was one window, larger than you’d see in most farmhouses, that provided light from the brightening sky. There were no floor coverings, just a solid dark white wood floor with bright yellow knots.

Her father turned to Bethenny. “Walk with me for a bit. I’d like to show you the places I knew as a boy.”

The sun had come out and glinted off the rocks near the barn. The grass was never greener. A breeze from the south warmed their faces as they headed for the trees at the edge of the property.

“I’m worried about your mother,” he said, helping Bethenny navigate a stile in the fence that fronted the line of trees.

“In what way?”

“This is the best place for us right now, but somehow, she somehow doesn’t seem to understand that.”

“I have a feeling that something else is bothering you about her.”

He nodded reluctantly. “Mercy’s not herself. The other day she didn’t recognize me, and then, she suddenly snapped out of it and went on as though it never happened.”

“Hannah is also worried about her. “

“How long has this been going on?”

“I’ll ask Hannah.”

“I’ve seen this before,” said her father. “My grandmother called me by my father’s name and would suddenly start talking incoherently. I recall my mother helping my grandmother to her bedroom. My mother saw that I was upset and told me my grandmother was not well. I felt they were hiding something from me. She became a child again. I hope it does not come to this with your mother.”

They approached a stream, whose banks were covered in tall grass, still wet from the rain that soaked the bottom of her petticoat. “I used to make toy boats and float them down this stream,” he said with a smile. He pointed to the edge of the stream. “And fish. I was never able to land one all the times I fished there. Ben could land them by the dozen.”

Later, he looked at the fields on their way back to the cottage and the flowers around their cottage. “I was happy here. Ben was younger than me and followed me around everywhere. He hasn’t –“

“Something’s wrong,” said Bethenny, “I see smoke coming out of our cottage window.”

Nathaniel helped her over the stile and held her hand as they raced up the field, arriving out of breath. Hannah appeared at the door with Mercy, who was shivering and crying.

“The fireplace. The fire went out, and your mother tried to light it again. The fire caught the edge of her dress, and red ashes landed on the floor, filling the room with smoke.”

Nathaniel bent and examined the bottom of her dress. He rubbed it

with his hands until all the heat was gone and raised her skirt to her knees over his wife’s attempts to roll them back down.

“Stay outside and keep the door open while I see if there’s a way to open the window. He returned a few minutes later, using his coat to fan the smoke out of the house and up the chimney.

Ben arrived a minute later, out of the break. “I saw you all standing outside the cottage. What’s wrong?”

“Mercy’s skirt caught fire — a spark from the fireplace. We put out the fire, and I’m trying to get the smoke out of the room right now. I’ve fanned some of the smoke up the chimney.”

“Let me help you,” he said, leading the way inside.

“Tried to open the window but couldn’t. It’s stuck there forever.”

‘Fraid so.”

Ben took over, fanning the smoke up the chimney while Nathaniel fanned it out the door. The smell of smoke still hung in the air when they returned. Mercy started coughing again and went into her bedroom that had escaped the smoke.

“I’ve got just the thing. I’ve got a load of sweet-smelling hay next to the barn. Come with me, Nat, and we’ll bring an armful or two here and scatter it on the floor. It’s eating up some of the smoke.”

The barn was small and smelled like Heaven. It had a low roof, and they had to stoop to grab the hay. Ben loaded up Nathaniel’s arms and filled his own as they made their way back to the cottage. Bethenny grabbed handfuls of grass from her father and sprinkled them around the floor. Hannah did the same with Ben. ***

Ben was at the door the next morning. “Maybe I shouldn’t be asking you this now, but how are you settling in?”

“Bethenny and I love it, but my wife has a problem adjusting. For me, it’s like being a boy again, trying to catch fish with you at the stream, when your father was trying to teach me to milk a cow.”

“And it smells like Heaven said Bethenny.”

“Is there anything you need? Tea? Food? Flour?”

“Thanks to you, we have enough food to last us a couple of weeks, but I’ll stock up when we go into Burford tomorrow and get your horse.”

“You don’t have to do that, Nathaniel.”

“You sound like your father.”

Ben smiled weakly. “Is there anything we can do to help your good

wife?”

“She’ll get over it and begin to love it the way Bethenny, Hannah and I do.”

Chapter Sixteen

“It’s quite a walk. Are you sure you’re up to it?”

“I remember it quite well when you and I would walk to town when my father gave each of us a penny to buy sweets.”

Ben laughed, showing a gap in his front teeth. “Let’s get started.”

They talked about Ben’s parents and their grandfather as they passed several farms until they reached the main road, still muddy in places. “It’s like going back in time,” said Nathaniel. They’re all painted the same colour they were almost 50 years ago. I am very thankful for this.”

They reached the main road. “Only another hour to go,” said Ben, who showed no signs of slowing down. “First stop, the Burford Inn for an ale.”

Nathaniel’s eyes lit up. “Make it two. You know, Ben, I envy you. I would have had this life if my mother did not inherit some money and my father moved to London to start a spice business.”

The barmaid placed two ales on the table and looked at Nathaniel before going back to wash glasses. Later, when Nathaniel waved her for two more, she planked the ales down and looked at him again. “I know your face, but you’re not from Burford.”

“My name is Nathaniel Hadley, Ben’s cousin. “I spent a few summers here as a boy and never forgot it.”

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

Nathaniel looked at her face but came up blank. The best he could do was smile.

“Lizbeth Dunham. We went berry picking together with my parents and Ben’s parents one summer.”

They finished their ales and stood. “We’ll be back later,” said Nathaniel. “Where now?” he added as they headed down the main street.

“At the other end of town.”

They reached Titus Blair’s stable about 15 minutes later. Titus was sitting in his tiny shack, lit by a single candle and talking to his son. He

looked up when he saw them enter. The smell of horse flesh mingled in the air. Titus sat in the only chair in the shack.

“A stranger in town.” His eyes lit up, and sixth sense told him they came to do business. “Good morning, Ben. I’ve been expecting you. Heard your horse died in the spring. Who’s your friend?”

“My cousin, Nat. He’s spending the summer with me. He spent a few summers with us when we were young. You’re right about my horse. I’m interested in seeing what you have to offer, providing the price is right.”

Titus had a grey beard and sparkling blue eyes. “You’re in luck, Ben. I’ve got eight horses at the moment, especially one with your name on it. He’s young, strong and will meet your needs liked no other.”

They walked into the stable where the horses were feeding on new hay. It had a high loft with a summer’s harvest of hay waiting for winter. “The brown one at the end. He’s barely a year old and ready for years of work.”

They spent the next half-hour haggling over the price in Titus’s shack. His son left when they entered, leaving them space to sit on a small bench opposite Titus. “Tell you what, Ben, seeing that you don’t have a horse now. I’ll split the difference. How does that sound?”

Ben didn’t react. “It doesn’t matter what you say, Titus. All I can afford is one pound, six.”

Titus hung his head and nodded after a minute. Ben counted out the money Nathaniel had given him just before they set out. Titus made out a bill of sale.

“Remind me never to do business with you,” said Nathaniel as they returned to the Inn. They each ordered beef stew and two ales and laughed.

“Did you never get married?” Lizbeth asked as he placed the beef stew on their table when they returned.

Nathaniel nodded and tried to answer between mouthfuls. “Is your wife visiting Burford as well?”

“She is. And along with my daughter,” said Nathaniel.

“Tell them I’d be happy to take them shopping.”

Ben led the horse to the farm on a long rope. Ben’s sons spotted them a mile away and came running to meet them. Ben lifted young Ben on top of the horse. “Put your arms around his neck and hang on.” When it became apparent he was in danger of falling, Ben lifted his eldest atop of the horse to keep his younger brother from falling. Ben’s wife wiped her hands on her apron and waved to them as they entered the yard.

“Tomorrow, we’ll hitch him up to our wagon, and we’ll drive everyone into town to go shopping,” said Ben with a broad smile.

***

Mercy was in a festive mood as they climbed aboard the wagon. First stop, The Burford Inn, where they had lunch the previous day. Nathaniel introduced Mercy and Bethenny to Lizbeth.

“I’d love to take you all around town to show you Burford’s stores, including those of the shopping street. We’ve got a great menu today: Roasted chicken and mince pies. I’ve tried them both,” said she, showing off her figure to Bethenny and her mother.

Lizbeth took them to every store in town. “This grocer has the lowest prices, and if you want to shop for clothes, then try that store,” she said, pointing to the store with a dress in the window near the end of the cobblestone street before leaving the men to shop for themselves.

Their wagon was packed when they started back. Mercy, Bethenny and Hannah began singing old Elizabethan songs as they left Burford behind. By the time they reached Ben’s home, everyone was tired and ready for an early bed.

Ben’s sons turned up the following day with wood to fill up their wood box. Mercy and Bethenny were still tired and slept most of the afternoon. Later in the day, Ben, his wife and his family turned up with supper and sat around in a circle on the floor to eat and sing. Mercy, who had joined in the singing, looked more like her old self.

“I haven’t had apple pie in years, and yours is incredible. I have never tasted anything like it,” she said to Hannah. Mercy ate more than usual, and by dusk, she was ready for bed.

“What did you do to her?” said Nathaniel. “She hasn’t been as forthcoming as this since we left London.”

“Nothing.”

The following day, Mercy felt dizzy. Hannah helped her get back into bed. Mercy was burning all over. Hannah rose and woke Bethenny. “There’s something wrong with your mother.”

Bethenny was ready in five minutes and entered the cottage’s small kitchen, where her father was drinking tea. He looked at her. “You’re up early.”

“Mother is sick. Hannah woke me to check on her. She has a fever.”

Nathaniel followed her into the bedroom. “She looks terrible. Is it the plague?” he added in a hushed voice.

“I don’t think so. I don’t know.”

“What should we do?”

“She’s burning up. We need a pail of cold water and a couple of cloths. Hannah and I will try to bring her fever down. If there isn’t one thing with my mother, there’s another.

“I’ll ask Ben if there’s a doctor in town.”

“I’d wait a bit on that,” said Bethenny. “We don’t want to start a panic. You know what happened to me when I returned to Oxford, and I didn’t even have a trace of the plague. All we can do now is wait and hope for the best.”

“Based on what you’ve seen, what would your guess be?”

“I would say she is not coming down with the plague.”

“I’ll get Hannah for you.”

“Before you go, do not mention this to Ben. Or anyone else. It could turn out to be something quite different.”

She heard him talking to Hannah and leave the cottage. A few minutes later, Hannah appeared with a bucket of cold water and several cloths. “Watch what I do,” said Bethenny, dipping her cloth into the bucket of water, wringing it out and placing it on her mother’s head, and repeating the process on her mother’s neck.

“My mother did that to us when we were sick. What do you think, mistress,” said Hannah.

“If you’re asking whether it’s the plague, I don’t know. I guess it’s something else. It might take a day or two before I’m sure.”

Later, Hannah left to make lunch for Nathaniel. He would be coming back soon. Bethenny sat back and studied her mother’s face, realizing that her mother must have been a very beautiful young woman for the first time. Then, without warning, Mercy started vomiting. It covered the pillow and her nightdress. It was black and had a foul smell, and she wiped away the vomit and rinsed the cloth in the pail.

She cried out for Hannah, knocking over the pail. Bethenny got on her knees and wiped up the water and vomit, squeezing the cloth out and making her hands red in the process.

Hannah appeared at the door. “What happened? It smells so terrible.”

“My mother has been vomiting. Please open the window and let the smell out and the sunlight in.”

“Is she worse?”

“No. But I don’t think it’s the plague now. The vomit is different.”

“What then?”

“Maybe the food. Perhaps it was spoiled. We ate a lot of food yesterday.”

Nathanial returned a few minutes later. “Ben’s family is sick, too. They’re running a fever and vomiting all over the place. A kind of black

vomit that smells to high heaven.” Then, after a pause: “How is your mother?”

“It’s food poisoning. Mercy has the same problem. Hannah and I think it’s something she and Ben’s family ate yesterday.”

“Then why Aren’t the three of us not sick?” said Nathaniel.

“Perhaps we didn’t eat what they ate. I didn’t have any of the chicken. How about you two?”

They shook their heads. Her father smiled at her. “You’ve grown up a lot, Bethenny. And I’m very proud of you.”

Mercy was sitting up on the edge of the bed when Bethenny checked on her the next morning.

“How are you feeling?”

“Hungry.”

“It will have to be porridge. You’ve been very sick, and you must treat your stomach with great care until you’ve fully recovered,” said Bethenny as she and Hannah dressed her.

Mercy started shivering. Close the window.”

Later, Hannah prepared a special breakfast of toast, and hot milk poured over it, and a pot of steaming hot tea.

“I’d rather have eggs,” said Mercy.

“If you’re feeling better at dinner time, I’ll make you a special order,” said Hannah.

Chapter Seventeen

Bethenny wondered if Jeremy knew where she was. Not likely, she thought, unless he tracked down Thomasine. Bethenny felt sick at heart and decided to walk and see the stream her father talked about. She wished she could see Thomasine, who had a gift of making her feel good. She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“You should be careful around the farm by yourself. You never know who may be lurking in the bushes and who may not mean you well. If you must go, take Ben’s eldest son with you,” Nathaniel told her as she put on her jacket.

The loneliness was getting to her. She had no one her age other than Hannah to talk to. She felt like crying again. She wandered down the field, stopping to smell the wildflowers along the way.

“Jeremy. Where are you?” she said in a low voice. It somehow made her feel better. She was at the edge of the forest, where she climbed the stile over the fence and made her way along an unbeaten path. She knew it led to the stream and the rock she spotted on her previous visit with her father. She heard the flutter of wings in the thicket and smiled and looked at the wild growth of bushes ahead. She sat down on the rock and drew her jacket around her throat. She turned to see a man dressed in black walking along the edge of the stream towards her.

She wanted to run, but it was too late. The man in black stopped in front of her and smiled. “Are you a forest sprite, or am I seeing things?”

He had a smooth baritone voice and spoke in an educated voice that she had heard at Oxford and a beguiling smile to go with it. Bethenny didn’t know what to say.

“My name is Matthew Talbot, he said, extending his hand to her. He waited for a response, but when none was forthcoming, he crouched down to her level. “I’m new to Burford. My mother felt I shouldn’t be walking in the woods by myself.”

Bethenny wanted to laugh but thought better of it. Instead, she accepted his hand to help her rise.

“Do you live close by?”

“Just beyond the trees,” she said when she found her voice. “I had best be getting back before they send a search party for me.”

“Hopefully, not before telling me your name,” said Talbot.

“Bethenny.”

“Well, Mistress Bethenny, may I escort you home?”

“It’s only five minutes from here, and I would not wish to inconvenience you, Master Talbot.

“I’m a poet,” he blurted. “Not a very good one, I’m afraid.”

Bethenny started walking quickly to get through the trees. He caught up to her, breathing hard. “You can see our cottage just ahead,” she said.

He didn’t respond but walked beside her until they reached the door.

“I was seeking inspiration, and I have found it in you.”

She flushed and opened the door. Matthew tipped his hat. “You didn’t tell me your last name.”

“Hadley.”

He bowed and watched her disappear inside.

”Did I hear a man’s voice? Someone I know?” asked her father.

“Someone I met at the stream. He calls himself Talbot and wants to be a poet.”

“I used to know a Nickolas Talbot when we were boys. He later became a great landowner in this area. His annual income is rumoured to be 50,000 pounds. If you see that young man again, invite him to have tea with us.”

Five days later, an older man appeared at their door. “Nickolas Talbot to see Nathaniel Hadley.”

Hannah ushered him in. Nathaniel’s eyes lit up. “You haven’t changed a bit, Nick.”

“Liar.”

They hugged and looked at each other. “I can’t believe it’s you after all these years.”

Nickolas watched Bethenny make tea. “So this is the young lady Matthew has been pining about.”

“I hear you have done very well for yourself, Nick. You’ve become a legend in London.”

“I have been fortunate, Nathaniel. My biggest problem these days is finding a way to get young Matthew interested in my business and put this silly idea of becoming a poet behind him.” He turned to Bethenny. “What do you think, young lady?”

“If it is not for him, he will find out soon enough, not from you but from the people who won’t buy his books.”

“You know, Nat, you’ve got a charming daughter, who also has a head on her shoulders.” He stood and made his way to the door. “You and your family would please us greatly if you had dinner with us. I’ll send an invitation.”

Her father looked at her and shook his head. ”I can’t believe what just happened. If you pay attention to that young man, you will never want for anything in your entire life.”

Bethenny’s mother emerged from the bedroom, wearing her nightdress, her hair, a tangle of light-brown wisps that went in every direction. ”I thought I heard voices.”

“It was Nickolas Talbot who came to call on us. One of the richest men in England. He came to offer an invitation to join him and his family for dinner.”

“Why would a rich man like Talbot want to invite us to anything?”

“For one thing, I knew him as a boy. He owns the adjoining farm, and his son has met your daughter down by the stream and appears to be besotted by her.”

The next morning, Matthew Talbot, his thin face taut and chestnut brown hair tied in a knot behind his head, knocked on the door, holding a bouquet.

Hannah looked at him with an open mouth and closed the door. “Mistress Bethenny, there’s a handsome young man with a bouquet of roses at the door. “

“Take the roses and invite him to take one of the chairs at the fireplace.”

Bethenny went into her bedroom, got into her best yellow petticoat, pinched her cheeks and brushed her hair before emerging. Her father was quizzing Matthew about the future.

“A great time to be alive,” said Matthew with certainty in his voice. “How do you see the future unfolding, Mr. Hadley?”

Bethenny suddenly appeared. Matthew held his breath. Hannah offered him tea, which he accepted without once taking his eyes off Bethenny’s face.

“Perhaps,” said Nathaniel, “you and Matthew might like to take your tea at our outdoor table.” He turned to Hannah and nodded.

Hannah laid two settings at the outdoor table as Bethenny led Matthew outside. Hannah returned with the teapot, a dish of honey and a small pitcher of cream.

Matthew lowered his eyes. “My father is in love with you,” he said to Bethenny. He thinks you’re the right person for me. He likes your common sense, which I lack in abundance.”

“And you?”

“Your beauty, inside and out, is a rare alignment of the stars.”

“You talk like a poet.”

“I hope you like it.”

Bethenny nodded. “It’s what makes you special .”

“What if I don’t succeed?”

“Then you will be my special poet, and I do not have to share you with anyone.”

***

A week later, a young man arrived with an invitation from the Talbots to a special supper to celebrate the fall solstice.

“I will need new clothes,” said Mercy. “All my petticoats are out of date.”

“Here’s one,” said Hannah, holding up a rose-coloured petticoat with a white blouse. You bought it in Oxford, and it’s the latest cut.”

Mercy inspected the petticoat and looked up with a smile. “You know I had completely forgotten all about it.” She couldn’t wait for the day to come and kept asking every day, “how many days left?”

Bethenny was worried about what her mother would say at the dinner. “Coach her, Hannah.”

“I have a better idea, Miss Bethenny. If she is asked a question, have your father respond for her.”

Nathaniel disagreed. “Your mother has been to many, many dinners and events and knows exactly what to say and do. But I will heed your advice and be ready to step in, if necessary.”

Nickolas Talbot sent a coach for them. His estate was a half-hour away over a cobblestone road off the main highway and through a thick forest that suddenly opened onto a treeless green expanse that began at the edge of the stream. The coach, with Talbot’s crest on the door in gold lettering, crossed a wooden bridge and up a hill to reach Talbot Manor. A servant, dressed in green livery, opened the coach door, helped Mercy descend, and then led them into the receiving room with its massive fireplace, which seemed to occupy an entire wall. Nickolas Talbot, dressed in a silk waistcoat with a red cravat and a black coat, welcomed them while another servant appeared with a tray of glasses filled with French wine.

Mercy looked around the room, admiring the paintings, including two Peter Lely portraits. “What an exquisite room,” she said to Sarah Talbot, Nickolas’s daughter.

“Then, let me take you around,” said Sarah, taking Mercy by the arm. “We owe it all to our mother, who died three years ago. I’ve suggested a few changes to keep it up to date, but my father will have none of it. He’s a very romantic man, although you’d never know it.”

Then, as they made their way back: “Your daughter is lovely. Matthew’s description of her does not do her justice.”

Mercy squeezed her arm. “You are too kind, Sarah, not to mention that you are enormously beautiful in your own right.”

“I would like to know her better.”

Mercy smiled again. “Then, let us remedy that right now.”

Chapter Eighteen

’ve been looking forward to meeting you. I’m Sarah Talbot, Matthew’s sister.”

Bethenny bowed her head. “Matthew didn’t tell Bethenny he had such a beautiful sister.”

“Matthew is very naïve where women are concerned. I am not.”

Bethenny caught the sudden hardness and studied Sarah’s face for clues. There weren’t any.

“I’ve asked around about you. It appears that you’ve been banned from Court because you gave people the plague. I also think Matthew can do so much better than you.”

Bethenny looked away. She was on the brink of tears but said nothing.

Excuse me. My father needs me.” Sarah turned and left Bethenny standing by herself at the end of the room among rows of plaster images of Roman and Greek figures. Bethenny walked back slowly to where her father and mother were talking, feeling as though someone had punched her in the stomach.

“Sarah is such a kind young lady, don’t you think so, Bethenny?”

Bethenny looked away. Her father knew she was upset and put his arm around her. “What happened?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Your mother thinks Sarah Talbot is an angel. Looking at your face, I’d

gather you don’t agree. What happened?”

“She’s made inquiries about us since Matthew met me. She reminded me I was banned from Court because I had the plague and spread it to others. And then, to top it off, she told me Matthew could do so much better than me.”

“I’ll have a word with Nickolas.”

“I’d rather you didn’t. To be perfectly honest with you, I am not interested in Matthew. I went along with it to please you. But now, I’ve decided to be more pleasant and friendlier than I have been with him.”

“Do you want to go home?”

“No. I want to sit next to Matthew and give him my full attention.” Nickolas, feeling his grey side-whiskers and bright blue eyes, put his arm around her father. “Sarah tells me dinner is ready.”

Sarah led the way into the dining room. Periwigged servants stood behind each of their chairs.

It was a long table that could seat 20. A white table cloth with its silver utensils gleamed in the light from six candelabra. There was a sudden hush as everyone took their seats. Nickolas Talbot stood behind his chair and introduced Nathaniel, his wife and Bethenny before taking their seats.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hadley, you’ll be sitting here,” she said with a smile. “And you, Bethenny, will sit opposite them. Matthew will be sitting with my father and me.”

Bethenny smiled. I’d rather sit beside Matthew. What do you say, Matthew?”

He grinned, rose and withdrew the chair next to himself. Sarah smiled. “Then, I’ll take the seat we reserved for you, Miss Bethenny.”

Bethenny would never forget the hardness in Sarah’s dark eyes. ***

Matthew turned up at their cottage almost every day after that, inviting her for rides in the country and neighbouring towns.

His father turned up about a month later. “I need to talk to you, Nathaniel, about my son and your daughter. He would like to ask for her hand. But before that happens, I need your clarification on a disturbing matter. I have been informed that she has been banned from Court because she has the plague and is spreading it to other people.”

“Bethenny did have the plague but is one of the lucky ones who survived. She came down with it while tending and comforting my sister, who had been infected. My sister had no one to see her and to help her in her final hours.

“In the process, she was also stricken with the plague, but, God be praised, she got better without a mark or hint of the plague. Since then, she has been examined by two Oxford doctors, who pronounced her free of any disease, including the plague. I have their names if you wish them. She can’t spread the plague to anyone because she does not have the plague. She certainly hasn’t spread it to me or my wife, or my cousin or his wife and children.”

Nickolas hung his head. “Not all daughters are like Bethenny, Nathaniel. Neither Sarah nor Matthew has never known what it is like to be cold and hungry, or not to have someone wait on them hand and foot.”

They walked to the door together, where Nickolas paused. “The happiest times of my life were when you and I were boys and didn’t have a penny in our pockets. My good wife understood those things, but she is no longer with us.

“Before I forget, there will be a Masque Ball at my estate next month. The King will be present, and so will members of the Court. But don’t let that stop you. I hope you and your family will do me the honour of being my special guests.”

Nathaniel patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you, Nickolas.”

“I understand from my father that you’ll be attending our Masque Ball. What do you plan to come as?”

“As a woodland sprite – in memory of the day we met at the stream. And you?” said Bethenny.

“I haven’t decided.”

“What about coming as Caesar, and I’ll come as Cleopatra?”

They were standing beside the stream when he suddenly put his arms around her and kissed her hard on the lips. She tried to push him away. He held her tight and looked into her eyes. “I wanted to do that the first time I saw you,” he said, slowly releasing her. “Will you marry me?”

“I’m not sure, Matthew. I don’t want you to regret anything later. I would feel better if we gave it a bit more time and got to know each other first. Then, when you ask me, I’ll have an answer for you.”

“You sound a lot like my father. And my sister thinks all you’re after is my money.”

“Your sister thinks you can do better than me. She told me so in those words and is doing her best to destroy what we have. And I agree with her. You could have your pick of a score of more beautiful young women.”

“You don’t have to tell me about my sister. She wants to control

everything, including me. My father likes you and admires the way you put the needs of other people before your own.”

“Let us wait a year. If you still feel the same way, you can find me in London.”

He bowed and took her arm as they strolled back to the cottage.

Hannah met her at the door. “Your mother is sleeping, and your father is helping Ben calm his horse. It seems the poor thing cannot stand and was breathing heavily.” Hannah had just scrubbed the floor and met them at the door in a wet apron and hands.

“Perhaps I could help,” said Matthew with a fire in his eyes she had not seen before. “I love horses and know quite a bit about them and their ailments.”

“Then follow me. Matthew and Bethenny entered the barn, where her father and Ben were standing and talking in front of the horse’s stall. Ben was scratching his head. They looked up as Bethenny and Matthew approached them. The barn was dark, and Ben was holding a lamp over the horse. Matthew could hear the breathing and reached down and felt the horse’s neck and flank.

There was a strange smell, which Matthew kept sniffing and nodding his head. The wooden frame was covered by old boards from the old house with spaces between the boards, letting in cool air from the evening breeze. The straw in the stall was covered with expulsions from the horse’s mouth.

“Matthew says he knows a lot about horses and their ailments and offers his help.”

Nathaniel looked at Matthew and his fine clothes and smiled. “If you think you can help, we’d appreciate it.”

They stood back as Matthew knelt and felt the horse’s neck and head. “The poor thing is burning up. I need a couple of buckets of cold water and some cloths to wash him down with. His lungs are affected, and he needs to be wrapped in blankets once the fever has abated. He is a beautiful horse and deserves everything we can do for him.”

Matthew seemed oblivious to the smell and the fact that his breeches were wet and covered with straw and manure and expulsions from the horse. He leaned back against the stall and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. Nathaniel looked at him differently. He knew Nickolas would be very proud of him if he were with them.

The horse was starting to make wheezing noises. “Now, we need a bucket of steaming hot water and a blanket to cover the horse,” added Matthew. He placed the bucket next to the horse and threw a blanket over its head.

An hour later, the wheezing waned, and the horse went to sleep. Matthew then took the blanket and placed it over the horse’s body. He slowly got to his feet, washed his hands in the water from the bucket and dried them on his breeches. “Let him sleep. Tomorrow, he will be up and about.”

“Where did you learn all this?” Bethenny was curious. This was not the Matthew she saw in her head. “You have healing hands and compassion for animals as well as people.”

They left the barn together. “It’s getting late, Matthew,” said Nathaniel. “We don’t have fancy food, but we would be honoured if you joined us for dinner. Ask your coachman to join us. Ben has just gone to tell his wife. They’ll be a big crowd at her table tonight.”

“Thank you. I’d like that.”

“Watching you tonight, Matthew, I know your father would be very pleased about you,” said Nathaniel as they washed their boots and hands at the pump.

“You smell of the barn,” said Ben’s wife, Elizabeth. “I don’t want you marching in here, with horse dung and dirt on your shoes. And that goes for your friend,” she said to Bethenny before disappearing behind the door.

“They went out into the yard and cleaned their boots and trousers for a second time with cloths from the kitchen. Bethenny stayed behind to warn Ben’s wife that their guest was Matthew Talbot, son of the wealthy landowner, who enjoyed a special status in the Burford area.

“My God, someone should have warned me. He’ll think I’m a fish wife.”

“He’s not like that. Just pretend that you’re feeding my father and mother, and if he does something that he shouldn’t, let him know in a hurry.”

The men returned five minutes later. Elizabeth Hadley beamed as everyone took a seat at the table. She brought in bowls of vegetables and large slices of pork leftover from the day before.

“How‘s the horse?” said Bethenny’s mother.

“Thanks to Matthew, we think he’s going to survive.”

“You have a gift for animals, Matthew. You should never forget that and how important it is,” said Nathaniel.

Later, when supper was over, Bethenny, her mother and father and Matthew walked back to their cottage. His carriage was waiting, the lamps had been lit, and the coachman had gone into the kitchen for a quick bite.

He reappeared a few minutes later, rubbing his mouth and chin with the palm of his hand. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Matthew bent down and kissed Bethenny’s cheek. She and her father watched his carriage disappear into the darkness and entered their cottage.

Chapter Nineteen

Mercy talked about nothing about the Masque Ball for days. “The King will be there and ask why we have abandoned him.” She could hardly contain herself when the magic day arrived.

“How is she, Hannah?”

“She has good days and bad days. Today, I think, is one of her bad days.”

Nathaniel sucked in his breath. He couldn’t afford for something to go wrong now. He looked at Hannah. “I want you to accompany Mistress Mercy tonight. If she shows any bad signs, talk her down. And if she’s talking to someone else, remind her it’s time for her to take her medicine.”

“How should I dress?”

You and Bethenny are the same size. Choose one of her dresses. Bethenny is dressing as Cleopatra.”

It was beyond Hannah’s imaging. She would be at Court and dress as though she belonged there. Bethenny found a mask she could use.

Bethenny was applying soot to her upper eyelids and below her eyes. She found two old earrings of her mother’s that dangled from her ears and a black wig made from horsehair. She wore a shawl over her head, and one of Hannah’s old dresses, along with a black fan said to have come from China.

They were greeted at the door by Nickolas, dressed in the latest cut, a waistcoat of silk, and a dark blue surcoat with gold buttons. Several couples were dancing while the King, seated at the front of the room, was paying close attention to every word dropped from his latest favourite’s lips. The Duke of Buckingham and Sir Edward Hyde rose as the King approach them. Bethenny kept a quiet watch for Jeremy while trying to carry on a conversation with Matthew. The orchestra struck up again, this time playing Cuckold All A Row, a favourite dance at Court.

The room glittered with the light from 12 large chandeliers, not

counting the two chandeliers over the musicians, sitting at the opposite side of the room. Bethenny glanced at the adjoining dining room, set up by a number of servants in Talbot livery. Battle flags hung from the ceiling and seemed to quiver from the movements of the dancers. Pictures of Nicholas Talbot’s wife and his parents hung on the opposite wall. The padded wooden chairs were the most comfortable she had ever sat in. The King and Queen sat on a raised dais at the end of the room.

Matthew was more interested in talking. He grabbed her elbow. “I want you to meet someone.” He led her to the entrance, where his father was still welcoming guests. “I want you to meet John Dryden, the poet. This is my friend, Bethenny Hadley. She is one of your avid readers.”

Dryden held her hand in both of his. She bowed and smiled. The poet had a sallow complexion, thin cheeks and piercing black eyes, and his black hair was tied behind his head with a blue ribbon. A few seconds later, he was mobbed by other well-wishers, who wanted to hear his words.

At that point, the King stood, and the room suddenly went silent. Matthew edged her to the door, slipping out to stroll in the garden, lit by a series of torches. He stopped in front of a pavilion covered by vines and blossoms. In the chill, they could almost see their breath. Bethenny breathed in the scent of a nearby bed of flowers still in full bloom. He stood in front of her. “I love you, Bethenny. Let me ask you again. Marry me.”

In the shadows, she caught sight of Jeremy walking towards them. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as soon as she saw it was someone else. “The year is not up yet.”

When they returned, she saw Nickolas and her father talking to the King. “Let me ask you again, Sirrah. Why are you and your family at my Court when you have been banned from doing so by Her Majesty?”

“With great respect, Your Majesty, our gracious Queen ordered that based on inaccurate information. She accused my daughter of spreading the plague when she had been pronounced plague-free by two doctors at Oxford and not a carrier of the plague.”

“Not everyone in your household, Talbot, agrees with him. It was your daughter who approached Her Majesty about Mistress Bethenny spreading the plague in Oxford, and she believes she spreads it everywhere she goes and that you son appears to be oblivious to everything.”

“I have known Nathaniel Hadley since we were boys. He is an honest man, and I trust him completely.”

“Your daughter doesn’t.”

“She is spoiled. She has made it clear that she does not want my son to marry Mistress Bethenny and is making up stories about her in the hope of

stopping it, even enlisting the Queen to make it difficult for her.”

“Be as it may, we still cannot have anyone – and I mean anyone – spread the plague at our Court or anywhere else in our kingdom for that matter.”

“I will have a long talk to my daughter about this in the morning.”

Later, Nickolas motioned to Nathaniel to join him in the corner. “You and I will talk about this tomorrow.”

Nathaniel wanted him to continue, but Nickolas shook his head. “It’s not your daughter, Nathaniel, but mine. She has developed spite against your daughter and will do whatever she can to ruin any chance for happiness for my son.”

“Is there any way I can help?”

“Take your leave now, and we will get together later. You know, Nathaniel, you’re the only person I can talk to openly. My son is not cut out for business, and my daughter has become a spiteful creature who spins her webs in darkness.”

“Take your time, Nickolas. And remember, your daughter is still your daughter.” ***

Nathaniel called a family meeting the next morning. Bethenny sat with her mother and Hannah around the kitchen table. “It’s about why we left the Masque Ball early last night. It was in response to a request from my friend, Nickolas. The King told him that Bethenny still had the plague and was affecting everyone she met with it. Nickolas told His Majesty that was not the case. The King said they had heard it from Nickolas’s daughter, who does not want Bethenny to marry her brother.”

“That is pure evil. Can’t we do something about it?”

“Nickolas is furious and is having a conversation with her as we speak.”

“As if she’ll listen,” added Bethenny.

“I’m inclined to believe you, but I’m sorry for Nickolas.”

Matthew was at the door an hour later.” I just heard what Sarah did, and I’m sorry. That does not change what I asked you last night.”

She bowed. “Matthew proposed to me last night.”

Nathaniel looked at Bethenny. And when, pray, did you plan tell us?”

“That was before Mr. Talbot’s conversation with the King.”

“I haven’t changed my mind. My offer still stands. It’s up to you, Bethenny.”

Bethenny didn’t respond.

“You can’t leave Matthew hanging, Bethenny. It’s not fair to leave him or his father,” said Nathaniel.

“I’m not. Once this cloud is lifted, and Matthew is prepared to make the offer again, I will be very pleased to give him my answer.”

Nicholas opened the door to his daughter’s bedroom, pulling back the thick curtains and let the sunlight up the room. He looked at her ornate dressing table and closet of expensive petticoats in disgust. “Get dressed. I need to talk to you.”

Sarah didn’t respond. Nicholas pulled the covers off her bed and took her by the arm. “Get your dressing gown. You’re going downstairs with me now.”

He led her downstairs and sat her at the breakfast table.

“I’m hungry.”

“Breakfast was served three hours ago. The next meal in this house is lunch.”

“But I’m hungry.”

“You can go and make what you want once we have finished our talk.”

Sarah looked at him in the face. “Say what you’ve got to say, but make it short. I’m ravenous.”

He smashed his fist on the table. “I can’t believe you’re my daughter. You’ve become someone I don’t know. Someone I have come to hate. Yes, hate. I never thought I’d ever say that to any of my children.”

“Because I like refinement?”

“You’ve never known what it is to get up in the cold and go to work with no breakfast and no coat to keep you warm.”

“That will never happen.”

“We’ll see about that. As of this minute, I am cutting you off all income from my purse. And if you want to stay here, then you’ll have to earn your keep.”

“Are we over?”

“I want to talk to you about your conversation with the King and Queen.”

She stared at him with hate in her eyes.

“What you told them about Bethenny Hadley was hurtful, spiteful, and most of all, untrue.”

“Where does she get off thinking she’s good enough for Matthew?”

“Certainly a cut above what you have become, or whatever you hope

to become. Did you know Bethenny risked her life going to London by herself to comfort her aunt who had been stricken with the plague and came down with the plague herself in helping her aunt have a peaceful death? She was strong enough to survive it and live to tell the tale. What have you ever done for anyone?”

He called in all the servants. “You are not to serve Sarah any meals until further notice. She is to get her meals and clean up after herself. If you do so without my knowledge or consent, you will be dismissed on the spot.”

Chapter Twenty

Nicholas Talbot meant business. The next day she was put to work, taking out and emptying slop pails and scrubbing the walls and floors of her father’s office. The other workers knew only her first name and gave her the hardest and dirtiest jobs.

“They have it out for me,” she said to her father, looking at her hands, red from scrubbing and smelling of the contents of the slop pails.

“Nonsense. You’re just the new girl, that’s all. Try to get along with them and butter up a couple of the older ones. Ask them for their advice.”

“They’re below me in intellect and station. You must be kidding.”

“Suit yourself,” said Nickolas with a smile.

After a couple of days, Sarah decided to take her father’s advice. Things got progressively easier after that. They even showed her how to get the slop pail smell off her hands and rub her hands with fat before scrubbing. When Sarah fell ill, Hilda, one of the older women, knocked on Nickolas’s door.

“It’s the new girl, Mr. Talbot. She fell ill. We finished up for her so she wouldn’t lose pay. We wanted to take her home. She would have none of it.”

“Thank you, Hilda.”

He found Sarah lying on her bed at dinner time, throwing up in a pail, her face, a pale yellow. “Should I send for the doctor?”

“No. The girls told me it would go away on its own.”

“They’re a good bunch, Sarah. Hilda came to tell me you fell ill at work and that they finished your work for you so that you won’t lose any pay.

She also said you turned them down when they volunteered to help you home.”

“I don’t want to talk now. Leave me be.” She started vomiting again.

Nickolas smiled and closed the door. He sat down for dinner with Matthew, who looked sheepish. “Out with it, Matthew.”

“I don’t think Bethenny ever means to marry me. She wants to wait a year to see if we still the same way. It was the second time I asked her to marry me. I feel like a bit of a fool.”

“You should be thankful you’re in love with someone who has a head on her shoulders. She is right. I’d rather see you married to her than a dozen others I could rhyme off.”

Matthew rose early the following day and roused the coachman to take him to Burford to see Bethenny. It was the first time since she and her family had been banned from Court. A fall wind had sprung up, and he felt the coolness of the air as he breathed in. He put his scarf over his throat and mouth.

Hannah opened the door and took his hat and scarf and hung them up on the peg behind the door.

Bethenny rose from her chair with a smile. She dressed in the latest fashion with a decorated blouse and a new orange-coloured petticoat.

“I came to apologize to you for the insane behaviour of my sister,” he said, sensing that it had come between them. The smile was the same, but the look in her eyes was different.

Nathaniel stood was welcomed him with a smile. “Matthew. How good to see you. We’re having lunch. Please join us.”

Bethenny made room for him beside her and let her father do all the talking.

“Let me apologize again for my sister’s inappropriate behaviour and the terrible things she did to you and your family. You will be interested in knowing my father has taken her down a peg or two and has her working cleaning my father’s offices, carrying out all the office slop pails and cleaning them afterwards.”

Nathaniel didn’t respond. He felt sorry for Nickolas to have to go to such extremes but understood. Bethenny hid a smile behind her hand.

“But that is not the whole reason I am here today. My sister, for all her faults, has fallen gravely ill. My father has called the doctor, but he does not know what it is.” He turned to Bethenny: “In your great compassion for others, I beg you to return with me and look to her.”

No one said a word for almost a minute. Nathaniel stood and looked at Bethenny. “Well, daughter?”

Bethenny could feel the compassion rise inside her and hated herself for it. She bit her lip. “I will come.”

They left an hour later. It had started to rain, and Matthew had his driver put up the top on his carriage before leaving. The rain had released all the smells of the forest -- Scotch pine, Holly and scrubs, thickets, and the scent of new-turned earth. It made her feel alive for the first time in days.

Nickolas spotted their carriage from inside the door and went outside as they arrived at the entrance. He held both her hands in his as he helped her down from the carriage. “Thank you for coming. My daughter is quite ill, and I fear for her life,” he whispered. “I will blame myself if she dies.”

Bethenny had to admit Nickolas did things in style. Not just the statues of Greek and Roman statesmen and philosophers she had seen before but the incredible plants and flowers, some she had never seen before.

“The doctor left a few minutes ago and is unsure of what it might be. We know you risked your life to comfort your aunt in her last hours and then were stricken by the plague yourself. We need you and your compassion and wisdom. You’re Nathaniel’s daughter in every way. And we are fortunate to know you.”

“I will do whatever I can, Mr. Talbot, but please understand I cannot work miracles.”

He led her Sarah’s room, with its wide, floor-to-ceiling window, a large bed that could easily hold four people, the long mirror in front of her dressing table and two large closets filled with petticoats and blouses. In comparison, her room in London looked like a pigeon hole.

Bethenny went to Sarah’s bedside, where one of the household servants was applying a damp cloth to her forehead. She looked up at Bethenny. “She’s burning up.”

Bethenny felt her forehead. The smell of vomit was sickening. “How long has she been vomiting.”

“Since last night. It’s slacking off at the moment.”

“Get another cloth, dip both of them in cold water and apply them to her neck and her forehead.”

“The doctor suggested putting her head in a bucket of water.”

“Not yet. Use the cloths for the time being.”

Matthew, who was standing beside her, added: “He also suggested bleeding her. My father suggested we wait until we talked to you.”

“Bleeding her will do no good. If anything, it would only make her weaker.”

“She does not seem to respond to anything,” said Nickolas.

“I’ve gone through all this myself, and I know exactly how she feels

every step of the way.”

Matthew sat down beside her. “I have a hunch that you’ll be here for longer than you think. I’d better tell your parents you will be here for at least a few more days. They’ll be worried about you.”

“I will feed her,” said Bethenny, looking at Sarah’s face, now without powder and seeing for the first time the lines around her eyes and at the corners of her mouth.

“What should I get for her?”

“Porridge, meat, cheese, bread. Something easy to digest. No meat of any kind. And while you’re about it, Sarah will need Brandy and Laudanum before we’re finished.”

“For you or Sarah?” said Matthew.

“You’re being smart,” she said, throwing one of the cloths at him.

Doris, Sarah’s maidservant, felt Sarah’s forehead. “Mistress Sarah is burning up.”

“You’re tired, Doris. Let me take over.”

Sarah opened her eyes and looked into Bethenny’s face before closing her eyes again. She vomited her supper, and Bethenny cleaned her face and the front of her nightgown. She suddenly became restless, moving her head in every direction, calling out her father’s name. Bethenny had them light candles all around the room as the light began to fail.

Nickolas and Matthew knocked and entered and went straight to Sarah.

“She’s entering a new phase. We’ll know tomorrow if she has the plague or not.”

“Should I call in the doctor if she does have it?”

“If you wish. We need all the help we can get. One thing. If the doctor suggests bloodletting, I would prefer that decision come from you.”

Sarah woke for a few more minutes around midnight. She opened her eyes and touched her head. “My head feels as though it’s going to explode.” She closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep, waking only when the room was filled with daylight. She looked at Bethenny. “Where did you come from?”

“Matthew and your father asked me to look in on you.”

“I’ll bet you’ll be delighted if it turns out to be the plague.”

“I pray that you do not.” Bethenny got up and opened the window. The room, now smelling of vomit and sweat, needed to be aired.

“If it is, be honest with me.”

Bethenny nodded and helped her sit up for breakfast.

Sarah looked at the porridge and shook her head. “I do not like

porridge. Take it away.”

“It’s good for you. It will help you get back your strength. Meat will make things only a lot worse.” Bethenny held out a spoonful. Sarah took it and threw it at her.

“I also have some cheese and bread. At least try them.” Bethenny watched her grit her teeth. “You will need all your strength to survive this ordeal.”

“If I do get it, I can thank you for it.” She sat back and closed her eyes.

The doctor entered about an hour later with Matthew and Nickolas. “This young lady survived the plague. We hope she will be of assistance to you.”

The doctor, a young man with a black mustache and dark eyes that seemed to go everywhere at a glance, looked at Sarah‘s face. The fever had returned, and her eyes stared at them without comprehension.

“She needs to be blooded,” said the doctor.

“Not just yet, doctor,” said Nickolas.

“It may not do her any good later. It is all I can do at the moment,” the doctor added, rising from the chair beside Sarah’s bed. “Douse her head in a bucket of cold water if her fever gets any worse.”

Nickolas saw him out. Bethenny looked at Matthew. “Help me hold her up. I need to check for any swellings under her arms.” She looked up at his expectant face. “So far, so good.”

In the afternoon, a red rash appeared on Sarah’s arms and legs. Bethenny and Nickolas checked her chest. It was there, too.

“What does that indicate?” said Matthew.

“The Plague. I’m sorry, Matthew.”

“So we just let her die?”

“We will do everything we can to help her survive. She turned to Doris. “Keep putting a new cloth on her head every five minutes and one to cool her neck at the same time. She is delirious, and the best thing we can do is feed her Brandy and Laudanum. She needs to rest in peace and gather all the strength she has to beat this.”

Nickolas was not surprised when he heard the dreaded words. “One of the young women, who worked with Sarah, has also been stricken by the plague. I went to see her and discovered she had lent Sarah her jacket. She did it because my daughter was shivering in the cold when she had to empty the slop pails. That’s how Sarah came down with it, I gather.”

“Tomorrow will be a turning point, and we must do everything we can to make her stronger. Feed her chicken and chicken broth, even if she chokes on it and easing this transit with Brandy and Laudanum.”

“What can we do?”

“Pray. And hope that Sarah’s mean streak will help her beat this to spite us.”

Nickolas laughed for the first time that day. It seemed to give him hope. He left so that they could not see him wipe away the tear from the corner of his eye. ***

Sarah was delirious, talking about the Queen and how she was the real son in the family. Nicholas shook his head. “She will never learn, I’m afraid,” he said with a smile.

“Tragedy and misfortunes either make or break us,” said Bethenny. “She may end up surprising all of us yet.”

Doris lit the candles all around the room. “When she opens her eyes, I want her to see the light, not darkness,” said Bethenny. “It’s going to be a hard night for all of us, so get as much sleep as you can. “

Sarah tossed and turned and cried out. Her cries roused Bethenny three times. By morning, Bethenny was exhausted. She felt Sarah’s forehead. It was expected, and she was breathing normally again.

Sarah woke and touched her forehead. “Her fever is gone.”

“There hope yet,” said Bethenny, closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep. She opened her eyes to see Sarah sitting up in her bed and staring at her.

“What in the name of all that is good and holy are you doing in my bedroom?”

“Looking after you. And thank God, you look wonderful and like your old self.”

Sarah cocked her head, trying to remember bits and pieces of images in her head. “How long have you been here?”

The door opened, and Nickolas and Matthew followed by Doris, entered. “You’ve made it through the plague. Without Bethenny, you’d probably be dead now. You’ve given us all anxiety for about a week.”

Sarah looked at Bethenny. “How many days have you been here?”

“Six days,” said her father. “She probably can’t remember. She’s been up most days and nights looking after you. I ‘ve been sick with worry from the moment you came home from work and became ill.”

“I should get sick more often,” she laughed and ordered two boiled eggs, some cheese and white bread. “Make the same order for my nurse and a big pot of tea.”

She looked at Bethenny, who was sleeping soundly in the chair beside her bed. “Leave her be. Tonight, she’ll sleep in the Queen’s bed.”

Chapter Twenty-One

“I’ve been a real bitch, and I know it,” said Sarah. She sat on the side of her bed and waved away a petticoat her servant head chosen for her.

“We all have our moments,” said Bethenny.

“I owe you my life.”

“No. It’s because of the strength of who you are. You are a powerful person with a powerful will. That’s what saved you.”

“And here all along, I thought it was because you were a witch.” She smiled. “You have a strong mind yourself. I understand you were against the doctor’s recommendation to bleed me.” Sarah nodded when her servant produced a blue petticoat that whispered romance and stood as her servant draped it around her body. She stood back, looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. “If only the ladies I work with could see me now. “Do you know they did my work for me so that I wouldn’t lose my wages?”

“We should talk one day about this and other things. I would like to know you better,” said Bethenny.

“I would like that. But that still doesn’t change my mind about you and my brother. Matthew is a compassionate person and is easily hurt. He also has a dark side, which he keeps hidden, even from my father, who thinks you’re just the person he needs to keep his feet on the ground.

“But Matthew needs more than that,” added Sarah. “And despite my gratitude for saving my life, I do not feel you are as committed to him as he is to you.”

They were sitting next to one of the statues in Talbot’s receiving room. “It’s so beautiful in here. It creates an atmosphere of peace and harmony,” said Bethenny.

“All things pale in life, even this.”

Bethenny could smell her scent as Sarah waved her hands, mingling it with the smell of flowers scattered throughout the room. She would

never get tired of it, Bethenny thought, no matter how many times she would relax and study the figures. She looked up to see Matthew walking towards them.

“Not a word to him about our conversation,” said Bethenny. “It’s between you and me. If you need to talk to me at any time, my door is always open.”

Sarah offered a smile to Matthew. “I can see why you like this lady. She and I have become great friends.”

Matthew tried to smile. He knew from experience you could never really trust what Sarah ever said.

***

When she returned home, Bethenny related her conversation to her father, who sat back in his chair and beamed. “Nickolas and I had a long talk about you and Matthew. Since you saved his daughter from the plague, you can do no wrong. He would like to announce your engagement immediately. What do you say?”

Bethenny wasn’t ready for this. “I’d like to wait until we’re both sure.”

“What’s this about, Bethenny?”

“It’s about being pushed into something that neither of us is quite ready for.” She could smell the tobacco on her father’s clothes and noticed the lines on his face for the first time. It meant that he was growing old, and it bothered her more than she realized. She wasn’t quite sure what to say and looked away and started talking about the plaster figures of Greek and Roman sculptures in the Talbots’ receiving room.

The sun went behind a cloud and darkened her father’s face. They were getting used to the cottage now, and even her mother talked about how cozy it was. “Matthew has made no secret of the fact that he’s in love with you. So, what we’re talking about is you. You’re not as eager as he is.”

She got up to go, but he grabbed her by the wrist and looked into her eyes.

“It’s that man who looked after you while you had the plague, isn’t it?”

Bethenny ignored his comment and freed herself from his grasp, and started walking away.

“I don’t see him bending his knee and begging you to marry him.”

She continued to walk away, leaving him to shake his head.

“What is wrong with that girl?” he said to Mercy as they got ready for bed. “She’s insane. She’s throwing away an opportunity of a lifetime. She would be set for life.”

Hannah helped Mercy into her nightdress and smoothed out the wrinkles to give the nightgown a new life. “Give her time, Nathaniel. Girls

at her age are still dreaming of knights in armour, not stores, money or poets. Reality will bite her soon enough. She’ll come around.”

“I hope Matthew doesn’t get tired of waiting and find someone else in the meantime.”

Hannah bowed her head and cut the flame of the candle with her thumb and forefinger. They were getting used to the sudden intense heat as she did so. She opened the door and wished them good night, and disappeared into the darkness.

“Perhaps tomorrow morning’s announcement will spur things along,” said Mercy in the darkness. ***

Nathaniel waited until breakfast was over before he stood and cleared his throat. He was wearing a new green waistcoat and white coat. His greying hair was tied a knot behind his head with a bright red ribbon. He was starting to gain weight since he broke his leg, which still hurt just before a storm.

“Latest news from London. You will all be pleased to know that the number of plague cases is dropping every week.” He paused. “We will be heading back to London and our home at the end of the month. So will the Court, I understand.” He glanced at Bethenny and saw her eyes light up.

Bethenny glanced at Hannah, who was also smiling broadly. Hannah rubbed her back. “It will be like old times.” She and Bethenny shared the one remaining bedroom, which was even smaller than her bedroom in London. There was no makeup mirror or table. Bethenny had to depend on Hannah for that. There was a small closet for their clothes, which she also shared with Hannah. She knew then, she could not do without Hannah in her life and allowed herself to wonder if Jeremy would want her with them should they marry.

“The Court is planning to return a week beforehand. I will be making reservations with the coach station to leave in the morning of the 29th.”

Matthew arrived early the same afternoon to take Bethenny for a ride in the country. He was wearing a new suit of purple velvet and had his hair slicked in a knot at the back of his head. His blue eyes were alive of the moment, and a lightness in his voice she had not heard before.

“I’d like to spend a few minutes at the stream where we first met before we head out. I know I’m a bit of a romantic, but it warms me all over.”

She smiled and put her arm in his as they left the cottage. The fall leaves were in bloom with their bright brown and yellow blossoms as they

followed the path down the field to the trees that hid the stream. He helped her across the stile and took her hand as they waded through the tall grass near the fence.

They walked hand-in-hand to the rock where she was sitting when he first spotted her. He paused at the rock. The sky was an intense blue with no clouds on the horizon.

“I was very nervous that day. I didn’t quite know what to say.”

There was warmth in her look. “You were perfect.”

He reached out and held her for a long while. For the first time, she felt at peace in his arms and his words.

“I know you’re not sure about me, but I’m prepared to wait. Time changes everything.”

“We’ll be going back to London at the end of the month. My father let us know at breakfast this morning.”

“Then we shall see each other in London.”

“I would like that,” she said, looking into his eyes.

“And let us plan to meet at this stream exactly one year from today.”

When Matthew left, her father sat down next to her. She smiled at him. “I told Matthew that we would be going back to London at the end of the month. He promised to visit us in London. We both agreed to meet at the stream again exactly one year from today. He said he was prepared to wait until I had made up my mind.”

Nathaniel knew it was a good compromise. A year from now, he thought, she would come to her senses, and everything would fall into place. ***

A messenger knocked on their door just as they were finishing breakfast. ”I am looking for Mistress Bethenny Hadley. A member of the Court would like to speak to you and awaits you in their carriage without.”

“I am Bethenny.”

“Then please follow me.”

The messenger was a young man, with short-cropped blond hair cut in the shape of a crown and dressed in royal livery, with an aura of selfimportance. He opened the door to the coach and helped her enter.

Bethenny was half-expecting to see the Queen but the anxious face sitting opposite was young and nervous.

“I am Eleanor Hastings, lady in waiting to Her Majesty, the Queen.”

Bethenny didn’t react. She looked at the gold thread spun in her

waistcoat and could smell a scent she could not place. Eleanor had a thin face that had been powdered that showed off her bright red hair.

The carriage interior was padded an olive-coloured cloth, with special pads for their feet and the inside lanterns with dark-paned glass windows. Bethenny sat down beside her.

“Her Majesty had heard of your incredible healing powers. She has sent me to consult with you. I have a boil under my left arm. She begs you to inspect it and pronounce whether it might be the start of the plague.”

“It is not easy to give you a definitive answer in this light. Kindly come into our cottage, where the light is better, and I can give you my opinion. The Court doctor surely would have been able to tell you this.”

“Her Majesty did not want to alarm the Court.”

They entered the cottage. Bethenny introduced her to her mother and father and guided Eleanor into her parents’ bedroom. They immediately went to the window, where Eleanor removed her garments. Bethenny inspected the boil in the light of the sun.

“It’s a boil and getting ready to break. It’s not the plague.”

“You’re sure?”

“How long have you had this?”

“For about nine days.”

Bethenny smiled. “If it were the plague, you would be dead by now.” She was about to suggest she could lance it for her, but her sixth sense bade her back off.

“I hope you understand. I am not a doctor. Just someone who has survived the plague and treated others with it. I was lucky. I know the symptoms and what to do. Did the Queen suggest you visit me?”

“Yes, the Queen was worried about me. What shall I tell Her Majesty?”

“That you do not have the plague, as she and probably anyone else at Court would have told you,” said Bethenny as she escorted her to her coach. “Please give my regards to Her Majesty. May she live long and flourish.”

Bethenny watched the coach reach the main road and turn north with a feeling of unease. The Queen had something in mind. Whatever it was, she thought, it would not end in her favour.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Old Tom, who had been waiting at the dining room window all day for them, saw their coach turn the corner. He scampered downstairs and unlocked the front door as the coach stopped in front. He helped Bethenny’s mother navigate the coach onto the cobblestone street before hailing the coachman to throw down their travel bags.

“I see you’ve escaped the plague. We prayed for you,” said Mercy in a high-pitched voice she cultivated in front of important people. Nathaniel was all business. “Give me a rundown of what happened while we were away.”

Tom glanced at Bethenny. “After we looked after Mistress Abagail and left her body outside for the removal wagon, Mistress Bethenny came down with the plague, herself. If it weren’t for her friend, she surely would have died. He brought her back to health. He was at her side 24 hours a day. He moved the old settee beside her bed and slept there so that he could attend to her if she were in pain. He didn’t seem to worry if he came down with the plague or not. Later, he slept in the cellar and was at her side any time she rang the bell he placed beside her bed.”

Nathaniel Hadley was ready to burst. “Is this the same scoundrel who hangs around the buttered buns at Court?”

“He saved my life.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to marry him. I’d be glad to pay him anything he wants.”

Tom listened and shook his head. “I didn’t tell you everything. Two thieves managed to find their way inside your home to steal your money. Master Jeremy stopped them, even though he had been knocked unconscious by one of the men,”

Nathaniel looked at Bethenny, who appealed to him with her eyes. “I had a burning fever and was drifting in and out of sleep. I didn’t know what was happening. All I heard were voices, and I thought it was something in my head. I only realize this now.”

“The man who clubbed him threatened to kill Mistress Bethenny if

he didn’t help them find your money,” said Tom, looking at Bethenny. “He didn’t give away anything. He tricked them and had me go for the Constable after he subdued them.”

Nathaniel sat back and looked around his dining room, at his paintings and his dark-stained furniture pieces, with their ornately carved legs. They pleased him in every way. He turned to Bethenny. “That still doesn’t mean you have to marry him.”

Bethenny stared him down. “He hasn’t asked me, and if he does, I will say yes.”

Nathaniel slapped her hard and headed for the cellar, where he counted his money and smiled.

The house slowly returned to normal over the following weeks. There were letters from Thomasine telling her Roger’s engagement notice had been posted.

And then, a week later, a cryptic note:

I can’t stand it here anymore. I need to getaway. Anywhere. Just not Oxford. Does your offer to visit you still stand?

Bethenny wrote back immediately. A short, two-sentence reply: Can’t wait to see you. Come as soon as you get this.

Thomasine arrived on a cold, crisp early December morning. Bethenny and Hannah met her at the coach station. Thomasine had gained weight, and her eyes looked puffed, and her face, ten years older. Thomasine stepped down from the coach and waited for the coachman to pass down her travel bag. Bethenny stood beside her and grabbed Thomasine’s bag from the coachman.

Thomasine held Bethenny for the longest time and broke into tears. Bethenny wiped her tears and put her arm around her. “I have a coach waiting to take us home.

It’s just a few steps away.”

The coach took off immediately. Bethenny sat next to her and held her hand.

“My life’s a mess. I went crazy after seeing Roger’s engagement notice, and I did some foolish things, including way too much with one of the courtiers I met at Court. He tried to take liberties with me, and when I slapped him, he made it known among the others I was just another butter bun.”

Bethenny held her tighter. “The gossip reached the ears of my parents, who told me they believed me, but I felt they really didn’t and said it just to comfort me. I need to be with someone who believes in me.”

“You’ve come to the right place.”

Thomasine stared out the window, letting her dark blonde hair float in the breeze. Do you think your parents know?”

“I shouldn’t think so. Even if my parents did, they would not believe what they heard. They love you as another daughter.” Then, after a pause: “I do need to prepare you for something. My mother. She is not herself. Some days she is fine, and at other times, she doesn’t know who we are.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She looked away, and tears welled in the corner of her eyes. “My father was against my coming to stay with you but gave in when I told him I would rather die than stay in Oxford another day.”

An hour later, the coach stopped in front of their door, where old Tom was waiting for them. He took Thomasine’s bag and led them inside.

It was lunchtime, and Hannah was setting the table. “I already added another place, “said Bethenny with a smile.

Nathaniel smiled when he saw her, too. “You’ve grown into a lovely young lady. Kindly sit next to me and tell me about your good mother and father, who took us in when we had no other place to go. We will never forget their kindness.”

Hannah served a platter of chicken and vegetables in a wonderful sauce by their new cook.

Nathaniel patted his stomach and laughed. “She’s determined to make me fat.”

”Dig in, Thomasine, or are you starving yourself as many young women seem to be doing these days.” Then, in a sudden shift: “What’s the gossip at Court these days? You know we’re banned from Court by the Queen.”

“Thomasine is tired, father. Her trip from Oxford took a lot out of her. She has hardly slept a wink.” Bethenny smiled at Thomasine and took her hand.

After lunch, Hannah took Thomasine’s bags to Bethenny’s room. “Mistress Bethenny wants you to stay with her. She has missed you terribly. It’s not been easy for her.”

Later, when they were alone, Thomasine reached for Bethenny’s hand. “I’ve been so obsessed with my problems that I didn’t ask how you are.”

”It’s been hard, and my father makes it harder still. He wants me to marry Matthew Talbot, who has been very attentive and patient and

prepared to give me time to decide.”

“What about your highwayman?”

“Haven’t heard anything — no further visits. No letters. Nothing. Jeremy did come to see me at Oxford, where he met my father. It was not a pleasant meeting. My father made it clear that he was not an acceptable candidate for my hand in marriage. Certainly for as long as Matthew wants to marry me.”

Thomasine broke the silence that followed. “I have an idea. Since neither of us appears at Court these days, let’s have a party of our own and invite all the most eligible bachelors we know. What about a Christmas party?”

Christmas is only two weeks away,” said Bethenny.

“A Christmas Masquerade party.” There was no stopping Thomasine now.

Bethenny leaped from the edge of her bed, grabbing Thomasine’s arm in the process. “It all starts with my father. We need his approval before we do anything.”

Her father seemed surprised to see them so soon. He was sitting in front of the fireplace in the receiving room, warming his hands. Mercy, sitting in the chair opposite, was nodding and half asleep.

“We need your permission,” said Bethenny.

“For what? When you talk to me like that, it always means money.”

“To hold a masquerade party on Christmas Eve. And give thanks that we’re all alive and together for another Christmas.”

Nathaniel sat back, feeling there was more to come.

“We’d like to invite our friends.”

“Does that include young men?”

“And women,” said Bethenny quickly. “Guests would include Matthew Talbot.”

“And Roger Livingstone,” added Thomasine.

“What about friends of your mother and my friends?”

“Of course.”

“What am I missing?”

“It’s a Christmas masquerade party.” Bethenny offered her best smile “Do you have a date in mind?”

“Christmas Eve.” Then, after a pause: “We will need a list of your friends and mother’s friends. Tomorrow at the latest.”

Nathaniel had a feeling he was missing something. Something he’d probably regret later. Mercy was sleeping. Nathaniel decided to tell her in the morning. Hopefully, it would bring her back to life.

Back in Bethenny’s room, they were still laughing and excited as they got ready for bed.

“Are you going to invite Roger?” There was mischief in Bethenny’s eyes.

“What if he brings his bride-to-be?”

“She’s not invited.”

Mercy woke in the morning looking much better and announced she was very hungry.

“It will have to be porridge. You’ve been very sick, and you must treat your stomach with great care until you’ve fully recovered,” said Bethenny as she and Hannah dressed her.

Mercy started shivering. Close the window.”

Later, Hannah prepared a special breakfast of toast, with hot milk poured over it, and a pot of steaming hot tea.

“I’d rather have eggs,” said Mercy.

“If you’re feeling better at dinner time, I’ll make you a special order,” said Hannah.

Chapter Twenty-Three

They stayed up half the night, talking and deciding whom they would invite before paring the list down to 16.

“What about Rebecca Wagstaffe?” said Thomasine. “She told me she would be returning to London once the plague had disappeared.”

They fell asleep at daybreak and slept until noon when Hannah woke them. “It’s lunchtime, and your father wants to see you both.”

Bethenny opened her eyes. They felt gritty, and she rubbed them, hoping it would help. Hannah sat both of them at the dressing table, brushed their hair, laid out a woollen jumper and skirt for Bethenny, and helped Thomasine unpack.

Her father waited until they had filled their plates from the sideboard and had sat before speaking. “I’ve talked to your mother about your Christmas Eve party. She’s very excited about it. Do you have something for her to do?”

“We were thinking about asking my mother to be in charge of decoration. She was always good at it. I’ll talk to her about it if you wish.”

“We also need her advice about the kind of food we should be offering,” said Thomasine.

Nathaniel smiled. “You have just given our family its Christmas back.” He paused. “I’ll be at the office all day today. I’m expecting a new shipment, and I want to make sure every item makes it to my warehouse.” He glanced at his pocket watch. “I best be going.”

Mercy Hadley was sitting in front of the fireplace with a woollen comforter over her lap and legs. Bethenny and Thomasine sat down opposite her. Mercy pointed to the window behind them. “There was frost on the window this morning. When I was young, it always meant Christmas was not far off.”

“It isn’t that far off. Less than two weeks from now. Talking about Christmas, Thomasine and I need your help. We want to hold a masquerade party on Christmas Eve, and we would like you to help us with the decorations. I remember how wonderfully you decorated our rooms in

Christmases past. Please help us.”

Mercy got up. “Where’s Hannah?”

“Here,” said the voice behind her chair. “Did you hear Bethenny and Thomasine?”

“Every word. I think it’s wonderful. I’ve never seen a Christmas Eve party in my life. What do you want me to do?”

‘First, let us decide what rooms need to be decorated,” said Mercy.

Bethenny couldn’t believe the change in her mother and smiled as Hannah and her mother left the receiving room. “Hannah has hidden secrets that I’m still discovering. And while we’re about it, I think we’d better get our invitations out today as well.”

Thomasine laughed. “I’ll take care of that. My penmanship is better than yours.”

Bethenny led her into her father’s office and installed her in her father’s chair. She opened the left drawer, where her father kept his writing paper.

“I’ll have them ready for the night coach.” She paused. “I would feel better if the invitation to Roger came from you and your father.”

“Nonsense, Thomasine. He does not know my father nor me, but he’s ten times more likely to come if it comes from both of us. Get to work.”

Mercy and Hannah were waiting for her. “We’ll have midnight supper in the dining room,” said Mercy before gliding her into the receiving room. “We’ll serve drinks here.” We need a few more chairs to accommodate everyone, although I know a lot of people like to stand and talk today.”

She glanced at her lute in the corner behind one of the chairs. “It hasn’t been played in years, and I’m not sure it’s still in tune.” She picked it up and tried to play it. “I’ve forgotten most of the songs, but it’s still in tune.”

Bethenny looked at Hannah, who picked up the lute and tried to play it. “My mother taught me to play when I was small, but I’ve also forgotten.”

“You know, daughter, we haven’t had a Christmas party in years. I’m glad I thought about it.”

“The best place to store everyone’s coats is in your father’s office,” said her mother. “She looked at Bethenny. “Don’t worry, we’ll decorate it as well.” Mercy looked around. “Have I forgotten anything?”

“The kitchen. What do you think we should serve?”

Hannah stepped in. “We’ll make a list of suggestions and have it ready for you tomorrow.”

The letters to Oxford in Thomasine’s most delicate hand were ready by late afternoon. They dispatched Tom to take them to the coach station in time for the night coach.

“How did things go?” said her father, looking at Mercy’s face for clues.

Bethenny smiled back. “Better any of us might imagine. Our invitations to Oxford are already at the coach station, and mother has planned how she’ll decorate the rooms.”

“Have you invited any of your friends from Court?”

Thomasine grinned. “Only if you order me to.”

“I’ll have the names of people your mother and I would like to invite no later than tomorrow.” He studied Bethenny’s face. He knew the look. “Something’s wrong. Out with it.”

“The lute. We need music and someone to play it. We want everyone to sing carols. It will change the mood of the party if we have someone to play the lute. I can’t. Thomasine can’t.”

“Leave it with me.”

She thought about Jeremy. Thomasine looked at how Bethenny’s face suddenly changed and guessed why.

***

Hannah woke her up crying.

“What’s wrong?” Bethenny’s heart thudded in her ears as she feared the worst.

“A runner came for me a few minutes ago to tell me that my mother is dying. You have the gift of saving people, mistress. Please come with me and save my mother.”

Bethenny dressed quickly.

“I’ll go with you,” said Thomasine.

“I need you here to make sure things go along the way they should.” Then, turning to Hannah, “ask Tom to flag down a coach for us. Is my father awake?”

“Not yet, mistress.”

Still, in her nightdress, Thomasine followed them out. Bethenny rapped on her father’s door.

“What’s wrong?” he said, rising on one elbow.

“Hannah’s mother is dying, and Hannah would like me to go with her and see what I can do. Tom is trying to get a coach for us.”

Hannah sat up with the coachman in the rain to guide him through streets he didn’t know existed in London. The coach suddenly stopped in front of a makeshift shelter made from loose boards strung together with bits of tar and mildewing cloth to keep the rain out. A dirty rag hung in its doorway.

Hannah entered first. Her eyes went straight to her mother sitting at the end of the room, her hands outstretched over the dying embers of a fire. The smell in the room was horrific. Bethenny, who stood behind Hannah,

was gagging. The old woman’s eyes lit up when she saw Hannah.

A middle-aged man with an unkempt beard and a thin face that hadn’t been washed in months sat near her. He looked up at Hannah. “So you’ve come back.” He smelled of urine, and Bethenny could feel the hate in his eyes.

“I was told that mother is dying, Olan.”

“I thought that would get you here. I had the runner go to the fancy place where you work now.” He looked up at Bethenny. “Who’s this bitch?”

“The daughter of my employer. She had healing hands and has come to the aid of mother.”

He suddenly produced a knife from his sleeve and held it to his mother’s throat. “If she doesn’t come up with some gold, I’m going to kill her.”

Bethenny nodded to Hannah, who disappeared behind the flap.

“Just you and me now, lady. You don’t fool me. The real reason you’ve come is to have a roll in the hay with a man like me.” He grabbed her, forced her down on the hay, where he lay on top of her, reaching his hand down to the hem of her dress.

Hannah, Tom and the coachman suddenly appeared. The coachman struck Olan’s hand with his whip.

“If you don’t get up now, you’ll feel the sting of my whip.”

“I don’t think so,” said Olan, suddenly producing his knife and holding it at Bethenny’s neck.

Hannah’s mother started to cry.

“I can kill a fly 10 feet away without striking the horse. We’re not looking for trouble, but if it’s trouble you want, boy-o, you’ve come to the right place.” The coachman flicked his right wrist and stung Olan’s right ear.

He dropped his knife to rub his ear. Hannah reached down and gave it to the coachman as Olan got up slowly. Hannah pushed him aside, put her arms under her mother, and walked out with Bethenny leading the way. “Put her in the coach. I’ll look after her.”

Hannah sat up with the coachman to lead him to familiar streets. It had rained, and the roads were slippery with the coach’s wheels sliding them to the left and off the street. The coachman was able to get them back on the street with a skill she never saw before. Hannah’s mother moaned and held up her arms. “Please. Please. I can’t take any more pain from your fists. I’m your mother. Please, please, no more beatings.”

It started to rain again, slowing them down to a crawl. For Hannah, it seemed like an eternity. She kissed her mother’s brow. It had not been

washed in months, and the sweat from her forehead tasted foul. Hannah swallowed it and kissed her again.

“I’m sorry, mistress, Olan has turned into an animal since I saw him last.”

Her mother started to sing in words Bethenny had never heard before in a tune that suggested a lullaby. ”My other used to sing that to my brother and me every night before we went to sleep.”

She held her mother closer. Her body felt cold. Hannah panicked. ”She’s not breathing.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Tom carried her up the stairs. “She’s as light as a feather.”

Nathaniel looked at them, puzzled. “I didn’t know we’d be entertaining another guest.”

Hannah looked scared and held her breath.

“She dying, father,” said Bethenny.

“I think you will always be the saviour of stray cats.”

“Put her in your room,” she said to Hannah, “and ask Tom to light a fire there.”

Nathaniel looked at her face and the rags she was wearing and shook his head. “If she’s to take substance, give her whatever she needs, starting with a hot tea with Brandy.” It was her father’s cure for everything.

Hannah gave her a hot bath. Bethenny added some sweet-smelling herbs to the bathwater. Her mother’s face and the wrinkles seemed to fade as she ate the porridge Hannah had prepared for her and sipped Nathaniel’s Brandy tea. Hannah never saw her mother so thin. She cried when she first saw her in the tub. Her hair was completely white and hadn’t been washed in months, if even then.

Two days later, Hannah dressed her mother to meet Bethenny’s parents. The clothes Hannah found on her hung on her. Her arms were incredibly thin and looked as though they would break at any time.

Mercy rose and asked her to take her chair beside the fireplace. She took Mercy’s hand and kissed it. “My name is Melanie Hodgson. I want to thank you for your incredible kindness.”

Nathaniel was taken by surprise. He thought she had lost her ability to talk when he first saw her.

With a week to go, Thomasine was panicking. “We haven’t heard back from a single soul from Oxford. Not even from my parents. Maybe the coach didn’t deliver them.”

Bethenny put her arm in Thomasine’s. “This is the week where everything magically comes together.

“You’re optimistic. We even haven’t found a single soul who can play Christmas carols for us.”

Hannah, who listened to their conversation while doing the ironing, suddenly brightened. “My mother knows how to play the lute. She used to play and sing at parties when she was young. That’s how she met my father.”

Melanie walked over to her. “What kind of music can she play?”

“All kinds. Popular ballads, church music and even Christmas music. Would you like me to ask her?”

Their eyes widened. Melanie looked a bit stronger. The colour had come back in her cheeks, and there was a smile in her faded blue eyes. Hannah had taken in her clothes, and she looked years younger. “I hear you’re looking for someone to play at your Christmas Eve party. I’m not sure I remember everything, but I’d like to try.”

Bethenny looked at Hannah. “Maybe she’s forgotten.”

Hannah shook her head. “At least, let her try, mistress. It would mean so much to her.”

Bethenny led her to the lute and helped her find a comfortable chair. Melanie placed her fingers on the strings and closed her eyes. She started playing a familiar old ballad from the Elizabethan times. They all began to sing along with her.

Nathaniel suddenly appeared in the doorway. “I thought I heard music.” He looked at Bethenny, Thomasine and Hannah standing behind Hannah’s mother. “Will wonders never cease. If someone were to tell me she could play like that, I’d called them makers of Banbury stories. What else can she play?”

Melanie put her fingers on the strings, and after a brief pause, began playing and singing What Child Is This. Nathaniel joined in. Mercy emerged from her bedroom and started to sing. They all clapped when the song ended.

The atmosphere changed. Everyone was humming and getting ready

for the best Christmas of their lives.

Bethenny’s father appeared again, this time with his old flute. “It was my father’s. I haven’t played it since you were a baby,” he said to Bethenny. “And you used to cry as soon as I started playing.”

“Maybe I still will.”

They all laughed. Nathaniel put the flute to his lips and started to play before stopping to ask Melanie if she knew Lord Randall. She started strumming, and he joined in. Mercy sang the words in a way Bethenny have ever heard her sing before.

Where have ye been all the day, my own dear darling boy?

Where have ye been all the day, my own dear comfort and joy?”

“I have been to my stepmother, make my bed mummy do, Make my bed mummy do.”

“What did she give you for your supper?”

“I got fish and I got broth. “

“Where did she get the fish that she give you?”

“Hedges sought and ditches caught.”

“What did you do with your fish bones?”

“I gave them to my greyhound.”

“Tell me what did your greyhound do?”

“There he swelled and there he died.”

“I fear that she does you deadly wrong.”

“She took me in but she did me slay.”

“What will you leave to your mother?

“Any word?” Thomasine whispered in Bethenny’s ear.

“Rebecca will be here to show off a new male friend. So did Matthew, and, you’ll never guess, his sister, Sarah.”

Nathaniel looked dismayed.

“She’s not what you were expecting? She’s a big surprise to all of us,” said Bethenny.

Hannah led her mother to the kitchen. Nathaniel followed them in and poured two small glasses of Brandy. He offered one to Melanie, who downed it one gulp. “It’s been a long time since I tasted Brandy.”

“If you feel the urge to practise, the lute is yours any time of the day or night.”

“You may live to regret that, Master Nathaniel,” said Hannah. “She’d rather play and sing than eat.”

Mercy enlisted their help to place boughs of Scotch pine at strategic

points around each room in the afternoon. Dinner was late. The cook felt sick and went home early. Bethenny and Thomasine joined Hannah in peeling the vegetables and frying small pork pieces for their evening meal. Bethenny drank in the carrots’ smell and the pork sizzling in the frying pan in the fireplace and suddenly felt hungry.

Later, just before Thomasine snuffed out the candle, she sighed. “I know how you feel. I haven’t heard a word either. Maybe tomorrow.” ***

Christmas Eve dawned with new snow on the ground, and her father’s arthritis was getting worse. He winced every time he tried to rise after sitting. He wasn’t keen about going out shopping but couldn’t escape it. Bethenny gave him the list.

“It’s as long as Solomon’s beard,” he said, heading down the stairs with Tom. “Are you sure three geese are enough?” he shouted back as Tom opened the door.

They arrived back in time for a late lunch, carrying four geese, nuts, mince pies, honey sweets, vegetables, and sprays and wreaths of Scotch pine, Holly, bright-blooming plants and springs of Ivy to decorate their hair.

“We’ve only got six hours left before our guests arrive,” said Thomasine. “That’s not going to leave us much time to get ready.”

They hadn’t counted on Mercy, who was suddenly standing in the middle of the room. “You,” she said, pointing to Thomasine, Bethenny and Hannah, “start putting the candles in the wreaths and placing them around the room. Melanie and I will show you where. We start now.”

By 3.30, the receiving room was transformed with the scent of Scotch pine and a feeling of lightness and giddiness. The fireplace glowed with the embers of logs, and the dining room table centrepiece hinted at wonderful things to come. The windows were framed with pine branches, the floor coverings swept and washed in pine-scented water. More pine decorated the door mantles, and the chairs and settee rearranged in a circle around the fireplace.

Bethenny looked around the rooms. Maybe they forgot something, she thought with a sinking heart. She walked around all the rooms, even the kitchen, to make sure everything was perfect. She had it in her heart that Jeremy would suddenly appear. She wanted it perfect for him. Nobody else mattered.

An hour later, they retired to bathe, get dressed and make sure their

hair looked gorgeous. Melanie emerged from Hannah’s bedroom, looking tired. Hannah looked at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Melanie steadied herself by holding onto the bedpost. “Just feeling a bit tired. I’ll be fine after a nap.”

Hannah helped her undress and covered her with blankets. “I’ll wake you when it’s time.” She dozed off almost immediately. Hannah felt her forehead, and it felt normal. She opened the door, looked back at her mother and smiled.

Thomasine was fluttering from one room to another, talking to the cook and inspecting the two geese on the spit in the fireplace. “The smell is heavenly,” she said as Bethenny entered the kitchen. Her father was right behind her and grabbed Hannah’s arm as she tried to sidle past him.

“I don’t see your mother. I want to test a couple of songs with her.”

Bethenny caught the worried look in Hannah’s eyes. “She’s resting before our guests arrive. She wants to be at her best.”

An hour later, Tom escorted Rebecca Wagstaffe up the stairs with her new boyfriend. She ran to hug Bethenny and Thomasine as soon as she saw them. Rebecca was wearing a new bright green petticoat with matching shoes that showed off her figure in an alluring way. “How wonderful you all look,” she said. “And the smell. It’s something you dream about.”

“Try these,” said Thomasine, passing her a bowl of honeyed apple slices and nuts. Five minutes later, Matthew and his sister entered the receiving room, laughing and giddy, as though they had been drinking too much wine.

“Good news?” said Bethenny, who met them as they entered.

“My sister has found the love of her life.”

“You should have brought him along, Sarah.”

“There’s a problem. He’s pledged to marry someone else,” said Matthew. “We had a couple of glasses of wine to help her feel better.”

“I do hope it will turn out well for you.” Bethenny took her coat and squeezed Rosamund’s hand.

Sarah looked as though she was ready to cry and looked away. Matthew put his arm around her as they drifted off to get a glass of spiced wine.

Hannah left to look on her mother, who was awake and brushing her hair. “I feel like a new person,” said Melanie, looking up at her daughter.

Hannah led her to her chair in the corner of the receiving room. Melanie sat down and felt the strings of the lute and the magic they had in them.

Three other visitors were being welcomed when she started singing and playing What Child Is This? The talking stopped when Nathaniel began singing along with her. He was soon joined by the others, who

clapped for a full minute when she finished.

She then strummed a few more chords before starting The Butcher and The Tailor’s Wife. Mercy suddenly started singing with her. Nathaniel noticed and felt happy.

Oh it’s of a wealthy tailor, in London town did dwell And he had a handsome wife, and her name was Mary Bell

She’s gone to the butcher’s, a joint of meat to buy

“What is your will, dear woman?” the butcher did reply

Well, the joint of meat it was cut down, refuse it she did not

And straightway she goes and she puts it in the pot

And when the tailor he come in, she told him what she had

And the poor tailor jumped for joy, his heart was very glad

“Oh Husband, dearest husband, I’ll tell you what must be

Tomorrow night the butcher, he has to lie with me

You take a broadsword in your hand, and under the bed go

And the first man that enters, then, be sure to run him through.”

“Oh, I never handled sword or gun, my dear and loving wife

And butchers, they are bloody dogs, I think he’ll have my life.”

“Oh don’t you be down-hearted, with courage stout and bold

And if the butcher you will come, you’ll wear a chain of gold.”

And the butcher’s thinking it was time to see the tailor’s wife

And thinking they might form a plot or trick or take his life

He takes a brace of pistols with powder and with ball

“And the first man that molests me now, by Jove, I’ll make him fall!”

And when the butcher he come in, she takes him by the hand She led him to her bedchamber, says, “I’m at your command.”

He takes a brace of pistols and lays them on the bed

And the poor tailor’s struck with fear: he lay as if quite dead

And the butcher’s taken off his clothes a-going into bed

How he was struck when he did spy one of the tailor’s legs!

“Is this your husband’s dog?

“ He says, “I’ll shoot him for the fright.”

“Oh, spare my life!” the tailor cries, “and you can have my wife.”

In the next few minutes, the room seemed to fill with people. The noise level went up a few more notches as couples struggled to make themselves heard above the noise and the clink of wine glasses. Nathaniel raised his flute and nodded to Melanie. A minute later, everyone in the room was singing Barbara Allen.

Bethenny looked at Thomasine and smiled. The next guest took them both by surprise. Roger Livingstone, dressed like a dandy, wearing tight green hose and a multi-coloured waistcoat, gave his scarlet coat to Tom and accepted a glass of wine from Hannah.

Thomasine’s eyes misted, and her heart pounded in her ears. She couldn’t believe he was here, standing only a few feet from her. She started towards him. His eyes looked for someone else and didn’t see her coming as he made his way to Sarah Talbot.

Thomasine felt like dying. Bethenny gripped her arm and nodded to her father to start the music again. He nodded to Melanie, and they started playing Lavenders Blue.

Matthew sensed from where he stood that something was wrong and joined them a few seconds later. Thomasine wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

“We were worried whether the party was going to work out,” said Bethenny. “It’s ten times better than we have ever dreamed.” She looked at Tom bringing someone else to the receiving room. “I see a newcomer. There’s no one there to greet them,” she said, leaving them talking to each other.

When she returned, Thomasine and Matthew had disappeared. She had a bad feeling about it and made her way to the kitchen to see if they were there when she heard a noise from her bedroom.

She opened the door.

Matthew had pinned Thomasine to the bed. Thomasine was trying desperately to escape from under him and crying. The lone candle in her room flickered from the sudden gust of wind from outside.

Bethenny couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The look on Matthew’s face scared her.

“Get up,” she shouted and hit him with the candlestick. “Leave this house immediately and never call on me ever again.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Matthew removed his hat as soon as Bethenny admitted him. “I came to apologize, he said, shaking the snow from the collar of his surcoat. I’ve never behaved that way before in my entire life. Do your parents know?”

“Not yet. I don’t want to ruin the holiday for them.”

Matthew’s teeth chattered. “I would be obliged if you would not tell them. I would never want my father to ever learn of this. I will do anything you ask of me.”

He bowed his head for the longest time. Thomasine, who had been watching, called out to Bethenny. “Tell him if he ever mentions this to anyone, I will seek him out and kill him.”

Matthew, his head still bowed, turned to leave.

“Before you go, who put you up to this? Was it Livingstone?” Bethenny trusted her instincts.

Matthew nodded and turned around. “He did not say nice things about you, Thomasine.”

“Like what? I’m entitled to know.”

“I’d rather not. It embarrasses me even to think about it.”

“Did he suggest that if Thomasine likes you, she will do anything you ask? If he did, they’re untrue. He’s only saying that to get even with Thomasine, who would not yield to his overtures.”

“I thought I heard a voice,” said Nathaniel. “It sounded like young Matthew.”

“It was,” said Bethenny immediately. “Matthew stopped by to thank us for inviting them to our Christmas Eve celebration. He couldn’t stop talking about it.”

Matthew bowed and mouthed a silent Thank You to Thomasine and Bethenny. “I’m afraid I must get going. A Happy Christmas to you and your family. May it be as wonderful as it was for all of us who shared our Christmas Eve with you.”

Nathaniel poured himself a cup of tea and sat down on his chair beside the fireplace. There were still embers among the grey ashes. He rose to put another log on the fire and warmed his outstretched hands in front of the

fireplace.

“I was worried about Hannah’s mother. She looked quite tired by the time their guests took their leave. Everyone talked about her.”

At lunch the next day, they dug into the leftovers from the night before. For Hannah and her mother, it was a feast. Bethenny watched them eat and the way they would take a quick look at her.

“How about you, Thomasine? I had hoped your parents would have come to our little Christmas Eve party and would stay with us for a few months. Mind you, they still may. I haven’t heard a word from them. I’ve missed your father.”

“I hope. I hope. I hope.” Thomasine said under her breath.

When they were alone, Thomasine broke down. “What is wrong with that family? Do they live only to ruin the lives of others?”

“Thomasine, it’s a blessing. Imagine the nightmare you would have faced if you had married him. There are so many other people out there who would die to be with you and make you happy.”

‘You’ve also had a bad awakening, Bethenny. Matthew is little more than an animal and a weakling to boot. I pity the poor woman who marries him.”

“So do I,” said Bethenny, who had a smile. “It solved a problem for me.”

Two days later, Roger Livingstone, his hair cut and curled, and his sister, Rosamund, appeared in their receiving room. “Wonderful,” said Roger. “I was telling Rosamund all about your Christmas decorations. They’re still up in all their glory.”

“Let me look at you, Rosamund,” said Bethenny, scanning the left side of Rosamund’s face and then the right. “God loves you.” Bethenny hugged her and breathed in the scent of wildflowers on Rosamund’s skin and clothes.

Rosamund put her arm around Thomasine. “Roger told me all about your Christmas Eve celebration. I’m sorry I was not able to come.”

Roger put his arm around Thomasine. “I spotted you near the end of the evening. He looked at Thomasine’s face. To me, fair friend, you never shall be old, For as you were when first your eye I ey’d,” he said softly.

“Who can argue with Master Shakespeare? You have a great memory, Roger.”

“I have a great memory about you. I think of you all the time.”

“I find that hard to believe after reading your engagement notice.”

Roger shrugged. “I’ve changed my mind. It’s not going to happen.”

“So I presumed after talking to Sarah Talbot,” said Bethenny.

Rosamund watched her brother and scrunched up her mouth and nose.

“I came here to wish you Happy Christmas and tell you I will always love you.”

“So Matthew would have us believe.” Thomasine looked at him and turned away.

“I think it’s time to go, Roger,” said Rosamund. There were tears in her eyes.

Bethenny squeezed her hand. “Visit us again, Rosamund. Soon.”

“Can you believe that?” said Thomasine once they were alone.

“Let us not forget that he made insinuations about you to Matthew.”

“Why do we fall in love with people who don’t love us?”

“In my case,” said Bethenny, I never intended to marry Matthew at any time. I saw him just to please my father.”

***

The next day they were still talking about it. After a couple of hours, Bethenny suddenly stood. “I don’t want to talk about Matthew or Roger ever again. I mean it, Thomasine. Talking about it endlessly is not going to solve anything or make us feel any better.”

Thomasine gave her a blank look.

“I want to focus on the future and the men who are waiting to ask us to marry them.”

“Where do we start?”

“Sitting inside the house day after day is certainly not going to help us or attract anyone.”

Thomasine brightened and smiled for the first time since Christmas Eve. She looked to Bethenny expectantly.

“The first thing I’m going to do is talk my father into taking us out somewhere where men and women are enjoying themselves.” Bethenny stood. “Wish me luck.”

Nathaniel Hadley was getting ready to go to his spice warehouse. “What is it now, Bethenny?”

Thomasine and I are getting tired of staying inside the day after today. And mother needs to get out, too.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Take us somewhere where people are laughing and dancing the night away, where everyone is just having fun. If I have to spend another week in the house, I don’t know what I’ll do?”

“Let me give this some thought. We’ll talk about it at dinner.”

Thomasine was washing her hair. “Tell me something that will make me laugh.”

“My father will think about it, and we’ll all have a chance to convince him at dinner tonight. I think it might also do wonders for mother,” she added as an afterthought.

Nathaniel was the first to sit down at the dinner table. He poured some Brandy into his tea and sipped it as Mercy, Thomasine and Bethenny took their places at the table.

Mercy’s face looked sad, and Thomasine seemed fidgety. Only Bethenny looked in control of herself. She should have been a boy, Nathaniel thought.

“I gave a lot of thought what you said, Bethenny. And I agree with you completely. It would be good for us to get out of the house and enjoy ourselves for a change. I have only to think back to Christmas Eve and how we all looked and felt. I asked a few of the people I work with as well as few friends. They all had suggestions, but the one that seemed to capture everyone’s imagination was New Spring Gardens.”

“I’ve heard of it,” said Thomasine in an excited voice. “I understand a lot of young people go there for assignations.” She covered her mouth with her left hand. “There’s also Covent Gardens. I hear they have wonderful plays there.”

Hannah paused, serving vegetables to listen. “My mother used to sing at the Gardens before it was closed by Cromwell.”

“What do you think?” said Nathaniel.

The question caught Hannah by surprise. “Only what my mother told me. It’s a place where you can hear bands, all kinds of music and singers like my mother, as well as dwarfs, puppet shows, hot air balloon rides and fireworks.”

“Did you ever go?”

“My mother wouldn’t let me.”

“Intriguing,” said Thomasine.

“That settles it.”

Hannah was standing with the tray of soup bowls behind Mercy’s chair.

Nathaniel caught her eye. “Would you and your mother like to join us? Your mother could point us to the best performers.”

Hannah took a deep breath. “I know she would love to, but she is feeling poorly. I not sure she has the energy.”

“Then,” said Nathaniel, “if everyone agrees, we’ll go to the Spring Gardens a week from today.

Bethenny reached out for Hannah’s hand. “Tell your mother about it. Maybe it will lift her spirits and give her new energy.”

***

There was another surprise on New Year’s Eve. Roger Livingstone appeared in the doorway with Nathaniel.

“I caught this young scamp hanging around our door. He told me he knew you two. So I took it upon myself to invite him to supper. “Nathaniel looked at Bethenny’s face. It had suddenly turned sour. Thomasine looked as though she were going to cry. He looked at his wife, who just rolled her eyes. He turned to Livingstone. “Do you know what this is about?”

“I’m not sure. There’s been a misunderstanding,” said Roger in a soothing, practised voice. “I sensed it Christmas Eve and tried to clear everything up, but I was not given a chance to do so.”

Bethenny was shaking her head. “It’s Thomasine’s story to tell.” She looked at Thomasine, who just shook her head and dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief.

“Mr. Livingstone met Thomasine while we were in Oxford and professed love for her. Later, Thomasine reads, without any warning, that he is engaged to someone else. And Christmas Eve, we found him doing everything in his power to attract Sarah Talbot, who had just revealed to us she was in love for the first time.”

Roger Livingstone jumped in. “My father told me he would cut me off without any income and inheritance if I did not marry the person he had chosen for me. Later, when he learned of Sarah’s interest in me, he ordered me to break off my engagement and pursue Sarah.”

He leaned forward and searched for Thomasine’s hand. “Last night, I told him I had found the love of my life and would not marry Sarah.” Then, turning to Thomasine, he added: “I am here tonight to ask your forgiveness for the pain I have caused you, and beg you to accept me as I am. As of today, penniless.”

Thomasine reached out for him.

Bethenny stood. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Livingstone. Thomasine will think about it. If you are still interested, then kindly call on us a month from now.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Bethenny found Thomasine packing her travel bag and crying. “I need to go back to Oxford where I can be close to him.”

“I do not want you to go. You are the only real friend I have.”

“A friend would not do what you just did. You’ve ruined my life.” She shuddered and started crying again. Tears ran down both her cheeks. Bethenny wiped them away and held her. “If I go back to Oxford and tell him I love him…”

“Roger is in love with one person only. Roger Livingstone. The other love in his life is money. You heard what he told us. That he for the first time walked away from his engagement when he saw a chance to come into greater wealth.”

“Then why did he come?”

“Maybe to make Sarah jealous. Sarah is not stupid and sees him for whom and what he is, but like the rest of us, her weak point is jealousy, and he’s hoping she’ll react the way you do. And once they announce their engagement, you’ll be back where you are now. If you create any problems, he’ll trumpet your experience with Matthew.”

Thomasine sat on the edge of her bed. ”Tell me what to do next, Bethenny.” Her blouse was wet with tears and stuck to her arms.

“Before you do anything, I want you to change. You look like a waif. That is not the Thomasine I know, and the Thomasine who is my best friend.”

“I feel bereft. That all hope is gone.”

“So do I.”

“But you have Matthew.”

“Do you think I will have anything more to do with him?”

Thomasine laughed despite herself. “Then, what?”

“Life is meant to be lived. You and I are going to live our lives the way we want. We’re going to break a few hearts and maybe find our soul mates along the way – the ones we were always meant to be with. And we’re going to start in two weeks at the New Spring Gardens.”

“Do you think your father would take your mother and us shopping for new outfits?”

Madame Stavia spoke with a strong accent. She wore one of her latest creations, a black petticoat with no blouse and one arm and shoulder bared. She raised her eyes to the ceiling and put her palms together. “Put yourselves in the hands of Madame Stavia, and you will be the talk of London. But first,” she added, clicking her fingers, “we need to measure you.”

Madam Stavia’s shop had an unusual excitement about it. There was magic in the air as other buyers paraded in front of a giant mirror with their new petticoats. The room smelled a fresh cloth, and the floor coverings had mysterious markings and drawings. Paintings by unknown artists decorated the blue walls.

A young woman, dressed in a bright blue petticoat and a white blouse, smiled as she took their measurements. Madame Stavia wrote them down on a sheet of brown paper. His eyes flashed as she led them into an adjoining room, filled with bolts of cloth – bright blues and reds from Italy and patterned golds and silvers from Spain and France – and then something they would never forget, soft, gossamer-like silks from Asia.

Bethenny breathed in the smell of new clothes and damp cloths pressed by two young women with hot irons. Madame Stavia had a large face, a deep, excited voice and a way of speaking that drew people to her.

“Today, I want you each to choose the cloth for a blouse and a petticoat. Take your time. I want you to be absolutely sure what cloth was meant for you. Andrea will show you all our offerings and suggest colours that will bring out the real you and enhance the beauty each of you possesses.”

Andrea deferred to Mercy. “Do you mind if I join you,” said Bethenny, who followed her mother to one of the cutting tables, where Andrea scanned took down the bolts of cloth that suited them best.

“Cherry pink is your colour,” she said, placing the cloth against Mercy’s neck.

”And the other?”

Bright yellow.” Andrea unrolled the second bolt and held it up against her mother’s neck, taking her to the mirror and showing how she looked in three different colours.

Andrea sensed Bethenny would be making the decisions. “What do you think?”

“I think she looks incredible in those colours.”

“I hope you can do the same for me,” said Thomasine, who had been watching.

“Who’s next?”

Thomasine had excitement in her eyes and glanced at Bethenny. “Do you mind?”

***

Two weeks later, Madame Stavia sent them a note by a runner, inviting them for a fitting. Mercy was excited and singing to herself all morning as they got ready to go to Madame Stavia’s salon.

“Madame Stavia has a wonderful surprise in store for you.” She nodded at Andrea. A scent of citrus floated in the air. Bethenny opened her mouth as if to taste it. A young woman sitting at the front was playing a love song from the Elizabethan years.

Andrea escorted Mercy to the fitting room. The room had small stalls where women could undress and try out their new creations. There was a mirror on the door that swung inward when you opened it. She sat on the small bench against the wall and wondered where she was and what she was doing. She looked around anxiously for Bethenny, who knocked on the door of her mother’s cubicle and helped Andrea undress her mother and don her new petticoat. Andrea led her out where Madame Stavia was waiting to see Mercy fit into a pink petticoat she had on hand. Mercy looked ten years younger and seemed to float on a cloud as she walked towards them. Madame Stavia guided her to a long wide mirror at the back where Mercy could see herself. There was no reaction.

Madame Stavia’s pale, thin face looked confused.

“My mother is not herself today. Thomasine and I think you have outdone yourself. We hope we will look just as wonderful.”

The cut was different, but Thomasine couldn’t stop walking back and forth in front of the mirror. “I’ve never worn anything that even begins to compare with your creations, Madame Stavia.”

Andrea led them to the change room. Mercy was able to take her new petticoat home, but Bethenny’s and Thomasine’s petticoats needed a few minor alterations to fit them perfectly.

“A few days ago, I thought my life was over. Now, it’s just beginning,” said Thomasine on their way back home.

Nathaniel had to agree when he saw Mercy in her new petticoat. “You look the way you did when we were young.”

At dinner, they talked about their visit to New Spring Gardens and

decided that their new petticoats were meant for something grander. Melanie, who joined them for the first time in days, agreed in a soft voice.

“We need you to come with us,” said Nathaniel.

Hannah stood behind her mother’s chair and rubbed her shoulders. Melanie held one of Hannah’s hands and smiled. “I played the lute and sang at one of the shows there. It would be nice to see it again.”

After supper, she needed help to get to her bed. Nathaniel rose and picked her up and followed Hannah to their bedroom. He placed her on the bed and stood back. When he left, Hannah undressed her and kissed her on the forehead. She rose and headed for the door. There was a sudden stillness that clutched at her heart. She looked back and returned to look at her mother, who lay staring open-eyed at the ceiling. She turned and started to cry.

“But she looked so good at dinner,” said Nathaniel. “I can’t believe it.” He looked shaken. “Do you have anyone you would like us to contact on your behalf?”

Hannah thought briefly about her brother and shook her head.

‘She needs to be buried, Hannah, and soon,” said Bethenny, putting her arms around her.

Hannah washed her mother’s body and dressed her, crying all the while. Bethenny helped her bind her mother’s body in a sheet and got Tom to carry her body down the stairs. Tom’s knees buckled as he struggled to keep his balance on each stair. Bethenny and Hannah stepped ahead of him to block any misstep.

Nathaniel had left earlier to find an undertaker to take her body to the cemetery and bury her. He returned with an older man, dressed in black with a black hat, along with a boy, who helped him insert Melanie’s body into an enclosed carriage.

Nathaniel turned to Hannah. “She will be buried in a grave next to us. Bethenny and Thomasine, and I will follow the carriage to the graveyard. Please lead us.”

Mercy suddenly appeared. “What is going on?”

“Hannah’s mother has died,” said Bethenny. “We’re taking her body to the cemetery.”

“Why wasn’t I told?”

“We didn’t want to disturb you,” said Nathaniel.

Mercy walked to Hannah and slid her arm in hers. She nodded to the man in the black hat, who had removed it to brush back his grey hair. He

put it back on again and started the horse. His face was thin and had a reddish look. He looked worn out and kept muttering gibberish no one could understand.

The passage took almost an hour. Men and women removed their caps as the procession passed them on the cobblestone streets. The hole had already been dug by two men, who were standing next to the grave.

Bethenny inhaled the smell of newly turned earth. It breathed warmth and new beginnings as it started to rain. She felt it on the back of her neck and tried to wipe it away with the back of her hand, but it made it only worse as a breeze suddenly swept across the graveyard.

Hannah stood in silence at the edge of the grave as each of them threw in a handful of earth on her body. The undertaker opened a Bible and started reading a prayer for the dead.

Hannah felt dizzy. Bethenny and Thomasine grabbed her to keep her from falling.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“All the big events are inside the main buildings in this weather,” said the ticket seller to New Spring Gardens. The band leader playing at the entrance was dressed in a red uniform that gave him a military look. He brushed his white mustache with his left hand and raised his baton. The band started playing a vigorous marching song. The excitement in the air was so intense Bethenny felt she could reach out and grab it. Thomasine breathed it in and wrapped her surcoat tighter.

“I can see my breath. Look,” said Mercy, who kept humming the marching song as they headed for the main building.

They entered to hear a large band playing Barbara Allen. A young woman was singing in another area. Hannah started crying. Thomasine and Bethenny led her away, where a juggler was tossing and catching knives in the air. They headed for the next building, where people were dancing. They could barely hear themselves think. They turned to see many young men and women dancing to many of the popular tunes at Court. Mercy felt tired and wanted to sit. Nathaniel raised his arm and kept signalling to attract one of the vendors who offered small cakes and light spiced wine.

They moved inside. The room was packed with merrymakers who were singing different songs all at once. Their table was close to the fireplace. Bethenny and Thomasine stretched out her hands for warmth. Bethenny suddenly felt uneasy. She could feel the presence of someone standing looking at them.

A handsome young man, wearing a jester’s costume, smiled down at her. “Do you think your friend would dance with me, a poor barrister?”

“Why not ask her?”

“By all means,” said Nathaniel, making room for him on the bench beside him. “Did I hear you say you’re a barrister?”

“I am, I’m sorry to say,” he said with a light laugh. “And the operative word is poor.”

“I have a hunch that you won’t be for long. You have a friendly way about you, lad, that people like and feel comfortable with. That means a lot in the world today,” said Nathaniel.

“My name is Charlie Marlowe, and I hope you’re right. I’m standing for Parliament in a by-election in the next couple of months, but I don’t seem to attract much attention. The previous MP died and left the seat open. My opponent is the former MP, who was defeated by the MP who died.”

The band started playing, and he stood and asked Thomasine to join him. She glanced at Bethenny, who was smiling. He slid his arm in hers and led her to the centre of the floor.

“Do you come here often?” he whispered in her ear. The warmth of his breath gave her a renewed sense of confidence.

“My first time.”

“Are you likely to come again? It’s ten times better in the summer when we’re able to take walks through the gardens behind the buildings.”

“I understand it’s a place for assignations. And that doesn’t interest me.”

He could feel her withdrawal in the touch of her hand. “I am so happy to hear that. My friends make fun of me because I won’t join them in their adventures. It’s why I come by myself.”

At the end of the dance, he escorted her back and sat down next to Nathaniel again. “I hope you don’t mind, but you seem like a man of the world. What would you suggest I do to make myself known and popular with voters?”

“I’d start by asking these two for advice. They just put together the best Christmas Eve party that our home has ever had. I’d get them to stage a party for you and invite everyone on the voters’ list.

Charlie looked at Thomasine. “I had a feeling we were destined to be together.”

“Really, Mr. Marlowe.” She blushed and hid her smile behind her fan.

“Call me, Charlie. My mother does.” Then, turning to Bethenny. “What about you?”

“I’m afraid I’m not as diplomatic as Thomasine. Let me be as blunt as possible. Parties cost money. If you would like us to help you, we can make out a budget.” She looked at him straight into his eyes until he turned away.

“I will see what I can do,” he said after a few seconds. “In the meantime, may I escort you, two ladies, home?”

Bethenny noticed a patch on his coat. “You may want to ask my father that.”

He looked at Nathaniel, who was enjoying the interchange among them. “Do you have any opposition, sir?”

“I don’t, but the ladies might.”

Charlie instinctively knew he had to focus on Bethenny. “We could talk about your ideas en route. I need all the help I can get.”

Bethenny didn’t need to look at Thomasine. “We need to know a bit more about you, Mr. Marlowe.”

“Charlie. And as I said earlier, I am a poor barrister.”

“Why do you want to become an MP?”

“To help the poor and the disadvantaged, and help the businesses they work for from falling into bankruptcy because of government indifference. At the moment, there is no one to speak for them. No one.” The fire in his voice sent shivers up her back.

“We’ll help,” said Nathaniel.” But before we do anything, you need to raise some money for your cause.”

“Any suggestions?”

“You’re right about one thing. No one speaks on behalf of small merchants. Make that your pitch and visit a few of the merchants in your riding. Be sure to ask them for a few shillings. I would be good for six shillings.”

Charlie’s head was spinning. He looked at Thomasine, who had other dreams in her eyes.

“I hope you don’t plan on walking these two ladies home. They live some distance away,” said Nathaniel. He looked at his daughter. “Why not join us. We’ll be taking a coach back.”

They left an hour later. Mercy was shivering from the cold. In the coach, they put her thick woollen blanket around her. Charlie sat between

Thomasine and Bethenny and opposite Mercy, Hannah and Nathaniel. The way back was easier. The roads were free of traffic, and they sped along the streets quickly. Bethenny looked out the window and could see the moon shining on the cobblestones. It made her feel comfortable for some reason.

Tom was waiting for them and opened the door when he heard their coach stop. Charlie descended first to help Bethenny and Thomasine leave the coach, kissing their hands as he did so.

“Thank you for this evening. I feel my life is about to change for the better.” He watched them disappear behind the door, put his hands in his pockets and wandered off into the night.

Charlie turned up three days later. Hannah led him into the receiving room to wait for Bethenny and Thomasine. Bethenny appeared first, noting the woollen scarf around his neck. He unbuttoned his coat and warmed his hands in front of the fireplace. Charlie knew there would no interchange between them until Thomasine joined them a few minutes later. She had combed her hair and changed her blouse. She looked stunning and knew it.

“How wonderful to see you both. I come with news. I took for father’s advice and was able to raise six pounds. What can you do with that?”

“We don’t need that much. A pound would do nicely,” said Bethenny.

Charlie looked at Thomasine. “You are a lovely lady.”

Thomasine bowed and hid her smile behind her hand.

“Thomasine, why don’t you talk to Mr. Marlowe about what we need and when he would like to hold his first event?” I need to go to the kitchen to tell the cook that there will be another person for dinner.”

“Call me Charlie,” he yelled after her. “When you say, Mr. Marlowe, I think you’re talking about my uncle.”

He turned to Thomasine. “Ask away.”

“How many guests would you like to invite at one time?”

“Fifty or sixty.”

Bethenny returned to hear his answer. “I suggest we hold two gatherings to be held on the same day over six hours.”

“And I will need their names and addresses,” said Thomasine, “so I can prepare an invitation for each. You will be required to deliver them and get an idea of how many people we can expect in each group.”

“Anything else?”

“A lute player to play music they can sing by, and finally, what would you like in the way of food to serve them.”

“I will need to talk to you about what you plan to say to them, once you have them here, and, most important of all, how long you should talk,” said Bethenny.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“What would you do to help me in my business?” said Nathaniel three days before Charlie’s party for voters.

“What kind of business do you operate?”

“You should know that before you talk to me. If you don’t know the people behind the businesses you want to support as well as their problems, find out between now and the party so that you can talk to them in a meaningful way.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes. Buy a new waistcoat and coat. Your present manner of dress does not engender confidence.”

“I can’t afford it right now.”

“If you don’t look successful, you’re not going to convince anyone to elect you, let alone represent their interests successfully. Go to my tailor and give him this letter. It authorizes him to make a waistcoat and coat for you and bill it to my account.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t believe that for two seconds, Charlie.” Then, after a pause: “I believe in you. I’m not sure why. Perhaps you remind me of myself when I was just starting out.” They were sitting in Nathaniel’s office and had to rub their hands to keep them warm. Nathaniel’s office was the smallest room in the house, big enough for a desk and a small cabinet with glass doors to store receipts and other papers. Charlie sat in one of the two chairs in front of Nathaniel’s desk. There was a small window with curtains and an India rug on the floor.

“You have been remarkably kind to me, Mr. Hadley. How can I ever repay you?”

“You seem interested in Thomasine. I hope you’re sincere. If you mislead her, never count on my support ever again.”

“I would like to marry her.”

“Does she know this?”

“I have never asked her if that’s what you’re asking. I can’t even look after myself at the moment. If I get elected, I know my fortunes will change, and my boldness with it.”

It snowed the day of the party, sticky, thick snow that you get in March. The streets were clogged and bare of traffic. In the afternoon, the sun came out as Charlie arrived to help Bethenny and Thomasine. “Maybe we should postpone it until next week.”

Bethenny disagreed. “If anything, it’s a good test. If they’re prepared to come out today, they’ll vote for you in June. If they don’t, you really can’t count on their support.”

“I see you have a new coat. You look so authoritative in it,” said Thomasine, touching the sleeve and feeling the warmth of his arm.

“Let’s hope the voters feel the same way.”

The first group was set for four o’clock. Two men, dressed in heavy surcoats and wool scarfs, shook the snow from their coats and boots. Charlie stepped up immediately and shook their hands, and addressed them by name. “How are things at the mill these days, Mr. Jarvis?”

“There’s talk about the government allowing low-cost hosiery from Italy into the country. Can anything be done about it?” said Mills, an elderly man in his 70s with a wrinkled face and white hair, who walked with a cane. “They have no compunction about taking our tax money to line their pockets, but when it comes time to help us, they are nowhere to be found. I hope you won’t be one of those MPs.”

“For me, it’s criminal. You pay taxes and the countries that send their hosiery to us do not. Unfortunately, the MPs who voted for it aren’t liable for criminal prosecution. They should all be locked away. Otherwise, the gaols would be filled with former MPs. I’m a barrister, and if I’m elected, I’ll hound them about it until it’s resolved one way or another,” said Charlie, slamming his fist on the table.

Five of the others who arrived in the meantime patted him on the back. “But right now, Mr. Jarvis, you would please me greatly to share our hospitality and toast to all our futures.”

Hannah appeared with a tray of pork pies and honeyed fruit. Charlie passed them glasses of spiced wine and raised his glass to their success.

In the next half-hour, 12 more were toasting each other and laughing. Another 18 arrived a few minutes later. It was time for Charlie to speak.

Bethenny watched him walk through the group, patting backs and sharing quips with grey-haired men. He stood in front of them and waited for the talking to stop.

“This is a crucial time for London and the country,” Charlie began. “Speak up, lad, we can’t hear you back here,” said a tired voice in the back of the crowd around him.

Charlie threw his head back and laughed with the others. When the laughter died down, he began again: “We have emerged from the greatest plague of our lifetime. “

They nodded their heads. “It’s been hard for every one of us,” said one of the greybeards.

“Including me,” said Charlie. “It’s ruined my family’s business. What did our leaders do to help us? Nothing.” He paused long enough to let it sink in. “It’s why I became a barrister. I want the law on my side when I press for things in Parliament. Help me to help you in the next election. But now, I’m for spiced wine. Who’s with me?”

They crowded around him and patted him on the back. Nathaniel, who was standing behind at the back, smiled. He could see Charlie Marlowe as leader of the country one day. Marlowe was a natural and a good investment.

Bethenny glanced at Thomasine. She was staring at Charlie, openmouthed and with stars in her eyes. ***

Over the Spring, Thomasine thought of nothing but Charlie Marlowe and the upcoming election. She and Bethenny went with him at rallies and stood with him when he went to Hyde Park to face the public and forced to bear the biting remarks from his rival’s agents.

A week before the election, Thomasine’s parents travelled to London to see her. Charlie, who had been invited to dinner, looked uncomfortable sitting beside Thomasine and facing her parents for the first time. Nathaniel broke the uneasy silence. “Mr. Marlowe is a barrister. And a good one. He can talk your head off. As Thomasine may have told you, he has put himself up for Parliament.

Harry Archer took a bit of snuff and sneezed. He passed his snuff-box to Charlie.

“Thank you, Mr. Archer. I’ve never tried snuff before. My big failing is honeyed sweets.”

“Mine, too,” said Alice Archer, sensing his unease.

Hannah served the soup and winked at Thomasine, who tried not to

“I understand you’re interested in my daughter, Mr. Marlowe,” said Harry Archer, laying his soup spoon next to his plate.

“Very much so, Mr. Archer.”

“Forgive me for asking but you don’t look capable of looking after yourself, let alone Thomasine. I gather your family is not able to help.”

“Harry.” His wife glared at him. “Mr. Marlowe has not asked Thomasine to marry him.”

“You’re right. Mr. Archer. I want to marry your daughter and would like you to give us your blessing.”

Harry Archer looked at his daughter, who was crying. “You have it. But with one proviso. That you are elected an MP.”

“Understood, Mr. Archer.”

Thomasine was beaming. “I hope you don’t mind but Charlie and I will be calling on voters tonight and passing out his pamphlets. We want them to remember his name. We have only a few days left before voting day.”

Bethenny joined Charlie and Thomasine as they headed down the stairs. You could hear them laughing all the way out.

“I’d like to thank you, Nathaniel. We feared that Thomasine would take her life when she saw the engagement of that Livingstone fellow. I saw it as a blessing. I had the feeling he was all about money. She would never have been happy with him.”

Nathaniel breathed in the smell of the Brandy he was pouring for them both. He was wearing the grey, woollen smoking jacket Mercy had given him on their first Christmas.

“What do you feel about young Charlie?” said Harry Archer.

“I have high hopes for him. He’s a born salesman, and I suspect he will become wealthy before he dies.”

“If it were your Bethenny, what would your reaction be?”

“I’d give him my blessing and all the help he needs right now to put him on the road to success. I wouldn’t be surprised if he‘ll head the government one day. Why don’t we go out with him tomorrow, and you can judge for yourself.” He passed his tobacco pouch to Harry, tamped down the tobacco in his pipe’s bole, and lit their pipes with long, strong straws from the fireplace. The smell of tobacco always soothed Nathaniel and made him feel at peace with the world.

He glanced at the grandfather clock at the entrance of the receiving room. It was already eight. “They’re late tonight.” He didn’t have a good feeling about it but kept his thoughts to himself.

It was close to 10 o’clock when he heard them at the door. Harry had retired, and Nathaniel was on his third pipe. The fire was dying, and the room had lost its warm glow.

Charlie was limping and had a bandage over his left eye.

“What –“

“It looks worse than it really is,” said Bethenny quickly. “We ran into the opposition. They came at Charlie with clubs. He protected his face with his arms, but one of them managed to hit him in his face near his eye. Thomasine and I started screeching. It didn’t stop them until the constable arrived. They ran off before the constable could arrest them.”

“That settles it. No more visits,” said Nathaniel, turning to Charlie. “And that goes for you, too.”

“It’s not going to stop me. I plan to show everyone I see what the other candidate did to try to stop me. It’s a gift from heaven.” He raised his gaze to the ceiling and whispered, “thank you.”

“I like it. But let me suggest this one thing. Because the ladies are involved, let us hire a couple of bodyguards to go around with you. That will keep them at bay.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The day before the election, two constables demanded entrance. Tom admitted them and escorted them upstairs. The first constable, a stout man with long grey sideburns, unrolled a parchment and cleared his throat. “It is a warrant for the arrest of Bethenny Hadley on charges that she did practise witchcraft and cast evil spells.”

“What nonsense is this,” said Nathaniel in a loud voice that shook the house.

Thomasine heard the front door open, and she ran down the stairs. It was Charlie, straightening the bandage over his eye. “Thank God you’ve come. Bethenny needs you.”

Bethenny was putting on her surcoat. Charlie glanced at the two constables. “My name is Charles Marlowe, barrister. This lady is my client. What is this about?”

The constable passed him the warrant. He unrolled the parchment and looked at the two constables. “This is insane. She’s no more a witch than

your wife is. Who put you up to this?”

“We can’t say.”

“The accused has the right to know who her accuser is.”

They looked at him without speaking. “I am standing for Parliament tomorrow, and if I am elected, you will be sure I will find out.”

“In the meantime, Mr. Marlowe, we are obliged to take her into custody.”

“Very well. I will go with you to ensure that my client is treated well.” They went downstairs and into the waiting coach. Charlie sat beside her. “Don’t worry. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

They took Bethenny immediately to one of the cells at the police station, where the smell of urine and feces was so overpowering it made her wrench. The snarl in the guard’s lips warned her to keep her thoughts to herself.

There were two other women dressed in rags and four men, some with dried blood on their faces. They looked at her in sudden interest. One of the women grabbed her and tore off the silver broach from her cape. Bethenny beached away from them, with her back against the bars. The other woman grabbed her as her friend, undid her cape and ripped it from Bethenny’s body, and sat back on the opposite wall, cackling among themselves.

“I would like to her arraigned today,” said Charlie to one of the constables.

Robert Bercher, who represented the Crown, dressed in black robes and a grey periwig, walked up to him. “What is this about,” he said in a deep voice.

“About my client, who is charged with witchcraft and casting evil spells. Would it be possible to have her arraigned today? I also need a copy of the particulars and the name of her accuser.”

“And you are?”

“Charles Marlowe, barrister. I am Mistress Hadley’s legal representative. “Now, what is the name of her accuser? Or should I ask the magistrate for that information?”

“How long have you been practising?”

“That is not your business. And why are you refusing me the name of the accuser?”

“If you are wise, you will not press your demands.”

“I assume I will be able to examine the accuser or accusers when they give testimony.”

There was no reaction from the Crown, and Charlie could smell something rotten. “Can you at least tell me when she will be arraigned?”

“You’re in luck. Judge Henshaw will see her within the hour.”

“Can she at least be freed from the cells? I will go surety for her.”

The Crown nodded to the constable, who was standing beside him. He left just as Nathaniel entered the station.

”What is going on, Charlie?”

“The Crown has graciously agreed to have Bethenny freed from the cells and brought here until she is arraigned. That will be just after lunch.”

Bethenny was crying as she emerged with a constable at her back. It was the first time Nathaniel had ever seen her cry since she was a child. Bercher nodded to the constable, who unlocked her manacles and left.

“It was horrible,” she said, falling into her father’s arms. “Don’t let them take me back there.”

Nathaniel looked at Bercher. “What can we do? If it were your daughter, what would you do?”

“I shouldn’t tell you this, but you’re up against someone with a lot of power. That’s all I can say.”

“The Queen,” said Bethenny.

“Queen or not, she still has to bring credible witnesses forward who must swear under oath that whatever they say is the truth on pain of imprisonment,” said Charlie.

A few minutes later, Bethenny was escorted to the court. Judge Henshaw sat behind a large raised desk and looked down at them. He wore a black robe with a scarlet stole and a periwig. The smell of old varnish and wax reminded Bethenny of spring cleaning. The word had somehow got out about a witch being on trial and filled the courtroom with onlookers.

The Crown and two others in black robes and grey periwigs whispered among themselves. Bethenny stood alone in the prisoner’s dock and looked around. Her father sat nearby and tried to reinsure her with his smile.

Judge Henshaw fiddled with something on his desk and looked at her for a full minute. He seemed to be chewing on something and started to cough.

Charlie caught her eye and gave her a wide smile. Judge Henshaw cleared his throat and looked at Bethenny. “You are charged that you did practise witchcraft and cast evil spells on people. How do you plead?”

Bethenny looked down at Charlie, not sure what to do.

“We are waiting, Miss Hadley.”

“My client pleads not guilty.”

“So noted.” He then looked at Bercher. “Is the Crown ready to proceed?”

Bercher looked up with a blank look on his face. ”We have not been

able to contact the accuser.”

“When will you be ready?”

“In two days.”

Judge Henshaw was about the remand her to the cells when Charlie spoke up. “What about bail?”

“Who are you?”

“Miss Hadley’s barrister. My name is Charles Marlowe. Her father is in court and is prepared to go surety for her.”

“I do not know if you are really a barrister or not. You’re certainly not dressed like one. The next time you appear before me, dress as a barrister is supposed to look like or don’t come at all.”

Henshaw looked at Bercher. “Any objections?”

Bercher shook his head and kept shuffling his papers and making faces.

“Bail is set at 10,000 pounds.” Henshaw ignored the gasp from spectators. Charlie looked at Nathaniel. “It will take a day or two,” said Nathaniel.

“Until then,” said Henshaw, “she will remain a guest of the Crown.” He rose and turned his back when there was a noise of someone struggling to the front of the crowd.

“I will stand surety,” said a voice loud enough to be heard on the street.

“And who are you?”

“Matthew Talbot. I can lay my hand on 10,000 pounds in a matter of minutes.”

Bercher looked at the judge. “Talbot? Are you related to Nicholas Talbot?”

“I am.”

“In that event, no bail is required,” said Henshaw as he turned to go.

Bercher was puzzled. He kept shuffling his papers and reading and re-reading them again and looking for Matthew, who was making his way to the front of the courtroom.

Bethenny had already been taken away from the court with her father and Charlie.

“Do you know where the accused has been taken?”

“Back to gaol to get her belongings. If you’re in a hurry, you can catch up with them there,” said the clerk, collecting his papers and stuffing them into a small leather carrying case.

Matthew wrapped his cloak around his shoulders and ran from the courthouse to the gaol next door. He wanted to shout but knew his voice would be lost in the ear-ringing noise of the street. He debated whether to

go after them but decided to find Bercher instead and have a word with him. He hadn’t dreamed it would go this far and paused outside Bercher’s office door. He had a better idea. He just had to frame it the right way.

Bercher suddenly opened his office door. “Talbot. Excuse me if I’m confused. But where exactly are you going with this?”

“I came today to withdraw my charge against Bethenny Hadley. In retrospect, I cannot honestly say that I heard her casting spells. I suspect she was singing the old songs that are out of fashion today. She is not noted for her singing voice.”

“You’re absolutely sure, Mr. Talbot. Judge Henshaw does take kindly to rich young men wasting his time.”

“I’m sure, Mr. Bercher. I would consider it a great kindness if you would send a runner to inform the Hadleys that the charge has been withdrawn.”

“I shall do so before I leave today.”

“I will remember your kindness and understanding. One more thing, be sure that Miss Hadley never finds out that I lodged the complaint.”

Matthew walked away happier than he had been since that unfortunate incident with Thomasine Archer. It was stupid, and Matthew hoped his father never learned about it. He would wait a few days before visiting Bethenny. He felt proud of himself. ***

Nathaniel read and re-read the letter he received from Bercher. He couldn’t believe it, yet it was sent with the Crown’s seal. Everything seemed to turn when Matthew Talbot announced he would go surety for Bethenny. He had a hunch he may also have had a role in getting her accuser to back down.

They talked about it until midnight. Even Mercy and Hannah stayed up and joined them in drinking three bottles of wine to celebrate. Thomasine kept touching Charlie’s face and laughing as she became tipsy.

At midnight, the grandfather clock in the receiving room chimed the hour. Charlie rose and fell. Bethenny and Nathaniel put him to sleep on the settee and covered him with a blanket.

Chapter Thirty

Bethenny woke feeling like a new person. She knew she had to thank Matthew for it all. She suspected it was his way of thanking her for not telling her father about Thomasine.

Nathaniel decided it was also a day to celebrate their good fortune. He sent a runner to Bercher’s office in an attempt to track down Matthew. The runner returned at noon with news that he had a meeting with Talbot that morning and that Talbot would be visiting them later that day.

Matthew appeared sooner than expected. Bethenny and Thomasine were getting ready to go shopping for Thomasine’s wedding dress, and Bethenny’s mother was talking gibberish, wringing her hands and crying. Nathaniel was napping in his chair by the fireplace.

Hannah escorted Matthew into the receiving room and went to alert Bethenny, who was just putting on her new petticoat from Madam Stavia. “Offer Matthew a glass of wine and tell him I will be there presently.”

A few minutes later, when she entered the receiving room, Nathaniel talked intensely to Matthew and kept patting his back every few minutes.

“I was just telling Matthew how grateful we all are for his timely generosity.” Nathaniel turned to Matthew. “I’ve just written your good father how you saved Bethenny from a terrible death. We owe you our eternal gratitude.”

Bethenny bowed and smiled at him. “I shudder to think what would have happened to me if you had not rescued me at a time when I was in great need.”

He reached for her hand and brushed it with his lips.

“We’re celebrating Bethenny’s freedom tonight. We would like you to be our guest of honour.”

Charlie, who had left earlier to visit people on his voter’s list, arrived later in the afternoon. He eyed Matthew and went directly to shake his hand. “Your generosity saved an innocent woman from a terrible death.”

Matthew seemed uncomfortable with all the praises. “And you’re the barrister who represented her at court. I wanted to meet you.”

“It left me puzzled,” said Charlie.

“How so?”

“At no time was I able to find out the name of her accuser.”

“Does it matter now?”

“Not really. But I have a curious mind and will probably stumble across it one day when I least expect it.

“I think the Queen orchestrated it,” said Bethenny. ‘She has it out for me.”

“Somehow, I do not,” said Charlie. “If the Queen went so far as to have you charged, she would hardly drop the charges because someone came up with your bail money.”

Matthew tried a weak smile. “I found it puzzling, too. Someone with a strange mind.”

“A twisted mind,” said Charlie in a tone that ended the conversation.

“Charlie is standing for Parliament,” said Thomasine, picking a piece of lint from Charlie’s coat.

Matthew made a note to mention it to Roger Livingstone. “That’s wonderful.”

“The election is in two days,” she added. “We’re keeping our fingers crossed that it doesn’t rain.”

It was time to go. Nathaniel led the way with Mercy, accompanied by Hannah. It was a private dining room, frequented by the Court crowd, located on the city’s outskirts. It was noted for its delicate French dishes, created by master chefs from France.

“Help me,” Charlie whispered to Thomasine. “I’m not used to all this cutlery. If I make a mistake, nudge me.”

“Just do what I do,” she whispered.

They were seated in the middle of a glass-enclosed garden. They had to walk down a stone pathway to their table that was hidden from other diners. Someone was playing a harp somewhere in the restaurant. The music seemed to float in the air and among the plants. There was a feeling of magic as everyone seemed to stop to catch the melody before it ended. A young man wearing gold breeches and a blue shirt served them a special drink to freshen their mouths and palates. Bethenny looked at all the plants that intertwined the indoor bower that emitted a sweet scent. She sat next to Matthew, who reached for her hand to kiss it. She reached for her glass of water and sipped on it slowly as Nathaniel ordered their meal. You could tell by the way Nathaniel’s jowls shook when he kept nodding that he was pleased with everything. He kept making observations to Matthew, who was trying to focus his attention on Bethenny. At the end of the meal,

Nathaniel insisted they all return to his home to cap the night off with his favourite Brandy.

Mercy had barely talked throughout the dinner and retired with Hannah as soon as they entered their home. Matthew and Charlie left at the same time, sharing the same coach. Matthew dropped him off and retired to his hotel not far from Parliament.

Charlie had a feeling he was being watched when he headed down the side street where his room was located. He hid in the shadows and watched a man, who kept on walking past him to the main road. A few seconds later, Charlie saw him turn down his side street. Charlie stepped out and stopped him.

He grabbed him by the collar. “Why are you following me?”

“You’re crazy. I’m just coming to my room, and you have no business stopping me. I’m going to tell the coppers, I am. Let me go.”

Charlie marched him to a lamp a few steps down the road and looked at his face. “If you ever follow me again, I’ll make it my business to make sure you don’t follow me or anyone else. And tell Carew, if I ever see you again, I will report him to the constabulary.”

Charlie released him and watched him run as fast as he could in the opposite direction, never once looking back. He walked slowly to the building where his room was located. His heart was still pounding and didn’t stop until Charlie reached the outer door, looked around, and checked again. He looked again as he closed it. He climbed the stairs in the dark as fast as he could. A shiver went up to his back. He had visions of being grabbed and knifed to death every night.

Once inside, he stood with his back to the door, breathing hard. He was about to light a candle but instead glanced out the window. There he was, standing under the lamp post and letting Charlie know he knew where he lived.

He reached for the firesteel, which he kept on the fireplace mantle and a small piece of cloth to catch the spark from the firesteel, a scissorlike instrument with steel on one end and flint on the other. When clicked together, it produced a spark. It took him five tries before the cloth to create a tiny flame, which he used to light the two candles in his room.

He got ready for bed and snuffed out the candles before going to the window to see if the man, who was following him, were still there. So now they knew where his room was. Two could play that game, he thought. And he would use it to draw them in and disable them with a swift knock on the head from the club that came with the room.

Hannah shook her awake. “Mistress, I smell smoke.”

Bethenny closed her eyes, and Hannah shook her again. She opened them and jumped out of bed. “I can smell it now. Where is it coming from?”

“Your father’s bedroom. Bethenny opened the door. The curtains were on fire. Bits and pieces of the burning curtains floated in the air and landed on the bed. Her mother was sitting on the edge of the bed crying.

Bethenny roused her father, who was half-dazed by the smoke and coughing violently. She pulled down the burning curtains as her father took the covers from the bed and used them to smother the flames.

Hannah disappeared and returned with a bucket of water. Nathaniel grabbed it and poured it over the smouldering bed covers.

“What happened?” Nathaniel looked at Bethenny, who nodded in the direction of her mother. “Hannah woke me, and we opened your door and saw mother sitting on the edge of the bed staring at the fire. She probably knocked the candle over, and when it lit the curtains, she didn’t know what to do but cry.”

Nathaniel set his mouth. “Your mother always wants a candlelit throughout the night in case she wakes up. That will have to change.”

Later, when they were eating breakfast, Nathaniel looked at Bethenny. “We’ve been avoiding it but it’s become clear that your mother needs help we cannot give her. I don’t know what to do. I’m not sure the doctor knows either. You seem to have a healing touch, Bethenny. What do you think?”

Bethenny thought for a minute. “If you’re suggesting she’s taken leave of her senses, I’m not sure, other than she is not herself on many days. Hannah has been concerned about her for months. I’ve tried to ignore it but now she’s become a danger to herself and to the rest of us. But I don’t feel she should be shut away somewhere. She does have days where she is her old self and the mother I always knew.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying.”

“That she will die if she is shut away someplace on the days she is her old self. I suggest you change Hannah’s duties and have her devote her full attention to mother.”

“Hannah?”

“She is wiser than you think. I have learned a lot from her.”

Nathaniel looked up at Hannah. “What do you say?”

“I will do everything I can to help Mistress Mercy. You and Mistress Mercy and Mistress Bethenny have treated me as one of your own. I will never forget what you did for my mother.”

Later, Hannah found Bethenny by herself. “Do you have any instructions, mistress?”

“It’s not going to be an easy task. You should understand that before you agree. My mother is not going to get better, and she will get increasingly difficult to handle. She’s much worse since we left Oxford. Seek me out at any time you’re unsure what to do. Maybe we can come up with a solution between the two of us. “

That night, Hannah moved into Mercy’s bedroom. She wanted Hannah to light the candles in her room and began to beat Hannah with her fists when Hannah refused. When her anger abated, Hannah got her ready for bed, slid inside beside her, put her arms around her, and sang a lullaby her mother used to sing.

Mercy woke before Hannah and poked her with her elbow. Hannah opened her eyes to see Mercy staring at her. “I’m hungry.”

“Then you stay here and let me make you the best breakfast you’ve ever had.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Charlie Marlowe woke suddenly from a dead sleep and looked around to get his bearings. And then it hit him. The election. It was election day, and he should have been up hours ago. He started to panic. There was a knock.

He ran for the door, slipping and scraping his knee, and opened it without thinking. It was Thomasine and Bethenny. “We didn’t want you to miss the election,” said Thomasine. “Get ready. We’ve no time to lose. We have a coach waiting at the door, and Hannah has prepared breakfast for you. You can eat it as we drive to the park.”

Charlie spilled his tea, and Thomasine wiped his breeches and his face. “You’re just a boy. Try to do better.”

“It’s not that I’m nervous,” he laughed.

“One other thing you should know. My father has arranged for a couple of his friends to keep you safe and stop any Carew thugs trying to prevent anyone from voting for you,” said Bethenny.

“I was supposed to do that yesterday but forgot all about it in the excitement over my arrest. But I’ll make it all up to you today. I have a powerful voice and can shout anyone down and look after you and Thomasine at the same time,” she said, showing him the lead weight she had added to one of her father’s old stockings.

“I’m going, too,” said Thomasine. “Bethenny and I intend to talk to any voter who may be swaying away. Don’t forget. We got to know them at our parties.”

“Then, let’s go.” They walked downstairs, leaving Mercy in Hannah’s care.

Charlie took a different coach to pick up some of his burly friends, as he called them, while Nathaniel, Bethenny and Thomasine headed for the park.

At the park, workers finished building the speaker platform for the candidates, and a second one, where voters stood to announce who they were voting for.

Oliver Carew had brought four rowdies who mingled in the crowd to intimidate Charlie’s voters.

The first buds appeared on tree branches with a warm spring breeze that warmed voters’ faces and hands. An excellent omen for the day, Charlie thought. There was energy in the air and a palpable feeling of change that added to the excitement.

Carew had a dark look – a black goatee and a dark coat and expensive cut breeches. There was pent-up anger in his eyes and a disdain for just about everyone and everything.

Charlie arrived a few minutes later. Bethenny watched Charlie’s burly friends spread out and take their places in the crowd as close to Carew’s rowdies as possible without arousing suspicion.

“If both candidates agree, we shall start voting now,” said Robert Carrick, an election official, a short man with grey periwig under a black hat with a feather in it. He also tallied the votes and declared the winner. “Mr. Carew will speak first.”

There was a sudden hush in the crowd as he stepped onto the platform and smiled and bowed before speaking. His supporters raised a shout. Bethenny looked around to see who was in Carew’s pocket.

“Fellow voters. You know me as an honest man who worked diligently on your behalf when I was previously your MP. My door has always been open to you and will always be your representative in Parliament. Your support means a lot to me, and many of you here today know I always show my appreciation to you for allowing me to be your voice in Parliament.”

There was a muted response as though people were expecting more. A few people shouted: “We’re with you all the way.”

Carew surveyed the crowd, and his eyes hardened. He had expected better support than this. He sat down and nodded to his men in the crowd.

“And now, gentlemen, “said Garrick in an excited voice, “we will hear from Mr. Marlowe, who also seeks to be your MP.”

Charlie Marlowe rose and gripped the rostrum. He didn’t say a word for a full minute as he looked as many people as possible in the eye.

“He’s too scared to talk,” said a guttural voice in the crowd. “Imagine him representing you in Parliament?” There was a lot of laughter. Charlie’s supporters bowed their heads.

“I come before you this day in humility,” he began suddenly, his voice thundered over the sounds of birds which suddenly chose to sing.

“I hate to drown out the singing of the birds. They bring a message of hope and warmth and greener pastures, while I, who do not possess their wonderful gift, bring only promises of hope and my pledge to work my

heart out for every one of you.”

Carew’s team started to boo and throwing rocks at Charlie. Bethenny withdrew her sock with lead in the foot and swung it against the group leader’s kneecap. The man, unshaven with a hulking presence, grabbed her. His breath smelled of rotting cabbage that made her feel sick. She tried to wiggle free and kept shouting: “Help. He’s trying to kill me.”

The crowd booed loudly.

“Get him out of here,” said the man behind him. “He’s not a voter.” He grabbed him by the neck while others grabbed his neck and arms.

He tried to shake them off, but it didn’t stop them from throwing him out of the park. His expellers were greeted with loud clapping.

Charlie returned to the platform. He bowed his head. “I know what it is to be poor. Not to have money for a loaf of bread, and what’s it’s like to lose your job because your government put the place they worked at out of business.”

He bowed his head again. “I never want that to happen ever again.” He turned and took his seat. There was a strange stillness in the crowd.

“It’s time to vote, gentlemen,” said Carrick, patting his stomach. “It’s getting late, and I’m getting hungry. I want each of your to come up, stand on the voter’s platform and announce in a clear voice who you wish to be your next MP.”

The first to go to the platform was a wealthy merchant with a bald head, who announced “Carew.” It was the same with the second, the third and the fourth voter. Carew looked surprised.

There were a few Marlowes and then a string of Carews. Almost every voter after that was for Charlie.

“Everyone is invited to yon tavern to toast our new MP,” said Nathaniel. Two of Charlie’s burly friends lifted him by each arm and placed him at the head of the table.

“Now, what do I do?” he whispered to Nathaniel.

“Smile and thank everyone for their support, ideally each of them by name. This is what our parties were all about.”

“I still can’t believe it.”

***

Nathaniel and Charlie returned home three hours later in a state of intoxication. Tom had to help them up the stairs, where Bethenny, Thomasine and Hannah raised their glasses and saluted him.

“I can’t believe we’re entertaining a real live MP in my home,” said Bethenny.

Everyone laughed except Hannah. “It is an honour, Mr. Marlowe.”

Charlie gripped the back of one of the chairs at the fireplace. “For me, too, Hannah. If you never need help, always know that I never forget my friends.”

Thomasine kissed him on the cheek. He held her back. “Do you think it’s time I talked to your father again?”

“He’ll be back next week and plans to stay with us. It will be time enough then.”

Later, when everyone had gone to bed, Nathaniel and Charlie talked about the next step. “First, see Mr. Carrick in the morning. He’ll know best.”

***

Oliver Carew brooded and refused to talk to his family or his associates for the next five days. He had misjudged Marlowe, a complete unknown. But Carew wouldn’t the next time. He would set it up then so that he couldn’t lose. All he had to do was think it through and take every eventually into consideration.

He decided then to put on a new face and show the world he was a gracious loser, and, if he ever decided to run for Parliament again, he would make a memorable comeback. But now he had to decide what to do with his time. He was at loose ends. Being an MP not only filled his days but gave him prestige and power he had come to take for granted.

Banking always appealed to him. He would see a couple of bankers about it next week. He would become someone the community would be proud to know again. Then it hit him. If something happened to Marlowe, they would have to call a by-election.

Then he thought of something even better. It excited him, and he knew if he played it right, Charlie would die trying to save the love of his life. The cleverness of it all made him smile.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Charlie spent the following week in politicians’ heady world and the secret undercurrents of politics that intoxicated him.

“It’ll drive you crazy if you take it seriously,” said Robbie Fawcett, a young MP from Liverpool. “One thing I learned is that you have to talk the way they do and dress like them if you hope to fit in. Above all, don’t take anything for granted.

Charlie liked Fawcett for his frankness and sense of generosity. They were sitting in the Pirate’s Roost, an inn near Parliament, when Charlie spotted a face, he knew as one of Carew’s rowdies.

“What do you know about Oliver Carew?”

“He was defeated in the last election and defeated again by you. As far as I’m concerned, he’s a criminal. But good luck proving it. I would stay as far away as possible if I were you.”

Later that evening, walking back along the darkened streets, Charlie sensed he was being followed again. He hid in the shadows as he turned the corner and watched his follower pass by him and disappear. The next day, Charlie saw the same man leaning against the lamp post outside Nathaniel’s tailor shop. In the light of the lantern, he spotted Carew talking to the man.

When he talked about it later, Nathaniel suggested they pay a visit to Carew.

Carew’s home was an hour away by coach. The uneasy feeling in the pit of Charlie’s stomach kept increasing the closer they got to Carew’s house. Nathaniel could see the unease in Charlie’s eyes and patted his hand. “He just a bully. And the only way to deal with bullies is to stand up to them. Don’t let him get to you.”

They got out of the coach slowly. “One last thing,” said Nathaniel before he knocked. “If you feel you’re being threatened in any way, pound your fist on his desk and tell him if he ever wants to run for Parliament again, he had better watch his step, and that you’ll keep a record of everything he does and that you’ll give it to the constabulary.”

Carew opened the door with a smile. “Mr. Marlowe. My congratulations on your election. I should have congratulated you earlier, but I have been laid up. How may I help you?” He led them to his receiving room and stood in front of the fireplace.

“Pray, be seated, gentlemen.”

Charlie didn’t waste any time. “I’ll go right to the point. I am being followed by two of your thugs everywhere I go, and I fear for my life.”

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, Mr. Marlowe. I do not have any thugs, as you call them, in my employ.”

“I saw you talk to one of them yesterday.”

“Perhaps you were seeing someone who looks like me. It was definitely not I. I never left the house yesterday, and I can provide proof.”

“Under oath?”

“Yes, under oath. I had forgotten you are a barrister.” He turned to Nathaniel. “What is your connection to Mr. Marlowe, pray?”

“One of his voters, who wants to see him stay alive.”

Carew smiled weakly. “I would like to continue our conversation but duty calls, I’m afraid.”

They didn’t speak until they turned the corner a few minutes later and spotted the man who had been following them.

“Do you think we should confront him?”

“I have a better idea. Perhaps it’s time we paid a visit to the police,” said Nathaniel. “That might prove more effective.”

Later, when they stopped in front of the police station, Charlie glanced back to see his follower turn and walk in the opposite direction.

“I had a hunch that would get their attention,” said Nathaniel. “We might as well go in, seeing that we’re here.”

“Who’s in charge,” said Nathaniel in a loud voice.

The constable sitting behind a large raised desk looked down at them. “May I help you, gentlemen?”

“My name is Nathaniel Handley, and my associate is Charles Marlowe, our newly elected MP. He’s being followed everywhere by two thugs of his defeated rival, Oliver Carew.”

“Do you have any proof?”

“No. But we did meet with Mr. Carew,” said Nathaniel. “He denies everything. But we recognized him later talking to the two thugs he had following me. They also appeared on election day and tried to upset the election.”

“We will visit Mr. Carew and tell him you have lodged a complaint

against him, and if anything untoward should happen to you, Mr. Marlowe, we will bring him in for questioning.”

“That would be appreciated, constable,” said Charlie. ***

Charlie finished talking to Robbie Fawcett about Carew and how his thugs follow him everywhere he went.

“Any change since you went to the constabulary?”

“They’ve suddenly disappeared, but I have no illusions that Carew won’t try something else.”

“Like what?”

They were sitting in the Pirate’s Patch near Parliament and drinking ale. It was a wonderful place to spend the afternoon drinking ale and talking to old friends. Its male waiters were all dressed alike and spoke in hushed tones. There was a large fireplace that crackled with blue and red flames a few tables away from them. Two other MPs were off in the corner talking in whispers. “This is a second home to a lot of MPs,” said Robbie, nodding to the waiter, who placed two more pints on their table.

“I’m not sure. Carew is not someone who gives up easily.”

“What would you do if you were in his shoes?” said Robbie.

“I’d go after his wife or someone else in his family.”

“I think that’s your answer.”

“By the way, the head of the party was asking around about you. His assistant seemed anxious that you contact him.” ***

“I understand you’ve been looking for me,” said Charlie.

“Mr. Clarendon would like to speak to you,” said Clarendon’s assistant in a hushed voice. “He’s free now if you’d like to talk to him now.”

Charlie nodded and followed him into Clarendon’s office. Clarendon rose from his desk. His office was filled with daffodils, even though they were not in season. He had a winter residence with a hothouse and had them shipped to him daily. Books lined the wall on his desk’s right side, old books, and a few with ragged covers. His desk was not as large as his assistant’s. Black and white marble squares on the floor gleamed in the sunlight from the large window to the right. A pile of papers lay on the right side of his desk, close to a large ink well.

“So this is the young man everyone’s talking about,” said Angus Clarendon. “You won your seat by a wide margin, Mr. Marlowe. We were very impressed, not just with that, but defending a young woman on

a charge of witchcraft. Your ability to juggle a few fireballs in the air at the same time shows not only a great ability to handle stress but a lot of promise.”

He paused to light his pipe. The blue smoke swirled around Clarendon’s head. Charlie loved the smell of the smoke and breathed it in.

“It’s my special blend.” Then turning serious again: “We’d like you to work with Sir Edward Hyde, our chancellor of the exchequer. It will be challenging but comes with an increase in your remuneration.”

Charlie didn’t know quite what to say. He had gone there thinking he had done something wrong and to be dressed down for it.

“Are you interested or not, Marlowe?”

“I am. I dreamed of it, of course. I felt it might be beyond my reach. Are you really sure?”

“I suggest you have a word with Sir Edward in the morning and go from there. Any questions?” ***

He went straight away to tell Nathaniel at his new warehouse on the waterfront. It was guarded night and day by three men. One of them inspected him before being led to Nathaniel’s office.

“Something Hyde said that’s stirred you up, Charlie. Out with it,” said Nathaniel.

Charlie grinned. “You were the first person that ever believed in me. I wanted to tell you first.” He paused on purpose. “I met with Clarendon an hour ago. He’s very impressed with my election results and being able to handle several things at the same time.” He paused again. “He wants me to work with Sir Edward Hyde, the chancellor, and best of all, it comes with an increase in remuneration.”

Nathaniel rose and shook his hand. His desk was not as neat as Clarendon’s and was covered in a mass of papers. “Believe it or not, I know where everything is in this pile.” The office had no window and was lit by four candles and light from his office’s open door. There were no coverings on his floor, but bare rough boards darkened from too many years of use.

“You’re a winner, Charlie. Make no mistake about that. I told Harry Archer that the other day. Bethenny thinks so, too. By the way, Harry and his wife will be coming to visit Thomasine soon and spend a month or so with us. Be sure to tell Thomasine your good news.”

Nathaniel kept glancing at Charlie throughout dinner and smiling at

Thomasine. They had finished drinking tea and eating a stewed apple with cream when Nathaniel passed the Brandy bottle around the table.

Charlie stood, straightened his waistcoat, and smiled at Thomasine. “I’d like you all, including you, too, Hannah, to raise your glasses and join me in a toast. I met with Mr. Clarendon today. He has asked me to assist Sir Edward Hyde, Chancellor of the Exchequer.” He lowered his glass. “To Mr. Clarendon.”

Nathaniel patted him on the back and then turned to clink his glass with Bethenny’s.

“He said he was very impressed with the way we conducted our campaign. So raise your glasses again to toast Thomasine and Bethenny, who made it all happen.”

“We’re all very proud of you, Charlie,” said Bethenny.

“Without you and Thomasine, we would not be celebrating my good fortune. One other thing, the promotion comes with an increase in remuneration. I hope it pleases your father, Thomasine.”

“He’ll be coming any day now. I know you intend to talk to him. No matter what happens, don’t take No for an answer. In the end, I know he wants me to be happy.”

Bethenny put her arm around Thomasine. “You know, Charlie, even greater things await you in the wings. So aim high.”

There was a crash of pots and pans in the kitchen. Bethenny arose instantly. She opened the door to see her mother crying, the remains of their dinner scattered over the floor.

“Your mother was trying to show me how to make gravy when she accidentally knocked over the pan with the roast,” said Hannah. “I’ll clean it up. No problem.”

The cook stood in the front of the kitchen fireplace, hands on her hips. “This may not be a problem for the rest of you, but it is for me. She’s always coming in, upsetting everything and adding things that spoil the food. I can’t handle it anymore. Either the kitchen is off-limits to her, or you find yourself another cook.”

Hannah looked at Bethenny. “If that is what you wish, Agnes, we understand and thank you for your patience. But my mother goes wherever she pleases in her own home.”

Agnes was a big-boned woman in her middle age. Her hair, with grey streaks, was tied behind her head. She untied her apron and the ribbon in her hair that fell around her chubby face. She placed her apron on the kitchen counter and put on her light surcoat. She nodded to everyone and left.

When she told her father later, he bowed his head. “We’re running out of options. If we didn’t have Hannah, I have no idea what we’d do. I do not want your mother placed out of sight somewhere. And I do not want to wake up and not see her anymore. She’ll be gone from us soon enough. You talk to Hannah.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Ihearcongratulations are in order,” said Archer, who invited Charlie to sit in front of the fireplace, where they could sip their Brandy.

“Thank you.” Charlie was more nervous facing Harry Archer than he was meeting Clarendon.

“Thomasine also tells me that you’ve been elevated.”

“It’s a start. I am to assist the Chancellor of the Exchequer. It comes with an increase in remuneration.”

“I assume this is your way of asking for Thomasine’s hand in marriage?”

Alice Archer rose and stood behind her husband’s chair.

“It would make me unbelievably happy if you gave us your blessing.”

Harry Archer puffed on his pipe. “I assume Thomasine agrees.”

Charlie nodded as Harry Archer blew a perfect blue ring from his pipe.

“Then you have it. Just be sure you make her happy,” said Archer.

Alice nodded to her daughter, who came running and kissed her father. She started to cry and grabbed Charlie’s arm.

Harry Archer looked at his daughter. “You’re sure?”

She kept nodding and crying.

Archer raised his eyes to the ceiling. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand women. You’d think they just had bad news.”

The news flew around the room without a word said. Bethenny grabbed her father by the arm and congratulated Charlie and Thomasine. Hannah brought in a tray filled with glasses of Nathaniel’s prized French wine. Harry Archer was the first to raise his glass. Mercy smiled and clutched Thomasine’s arm. Hannah led her away in the silence that followed.

“I see you have your hands full, Nathaniel,” said Harry.

Nathaniel nodded and tried to smile. “I want her to be with us for as

long as possible. But it’s trying on occasions.”

“I know why you’re concerned. I would be, too, if it were Alice.” He paused, not sure how to frame his message. “I understand there’s a place not far from Oxford, where people going through their second childhood are treated with care and love.”

“I don’t know what I’d do if she were not with me.”

Archer nodded. “Let me know if the time comes.” ***

Thomasine and Bethenny went out shopping the next day. There was a lightness in the air, and they kept elbowing each other and laughing over silly things.

The first stop sold traditional wedding dresses. Bethenny shook her head after Thomasine had tried on her fourth dress. Then, a new style left one of her shoulders bare. “It’s not you, Thomasine. It makes you look like someone you would not like.”

The second designer was a little better, and in the end, both their minds kept going back to Madam Stavia. “She’s quite expensive.”

“Your father won’t mind. You’re his only daughter, and that counts for everything. We’ll get a price from Madam, and you can tell your mother. If there’s a problem, let her talk to your father about it.”

“I don’t know what I’d ever do without you, Bethenny. You always know what to do.”

They left, laughing like two children sharing a secret. An hour later, they opened the door to Madam Stavia’s Salon. Madam ran to greet them, embracing each of them, her eyes sparkling and her face always alive with the moment.

“I knew you would be seeing me one day soon, but I think this time it is for something exceptional, yes.”

“Yes,” said Thomasine in a soft voice.

“You are getting married. It will be a challenge to match your beauty.”

Madam Stavia clicked her fingers, and Andrea appeared a second later. “This beautiful lady has come back for Madam Stavia to create an extraordinary wedding dress for her.” She looked at Thomasine. “We will apply all our arts to make you the envy of every bride in London.”

Andrea led them to the fitting room to retake Thomasine’s measurements before taking Thomasine and Bethenny to review a score or more bolts of white cloth designed for wedding dresses.

“When is the big day?” asked Madam Stavia.

“Three weeks from today,” said Thomasine.

“Come back in one week and try on the wedding dress of your dreams.”

They left, with Thomasine feeling as though she were walking on air. “Where next?”

“We need to see the Vicar and have your banns posted, and then talk to our fathers where you would like to have your wedding feast.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m tired,” said Thomasine. “Could we stop for tea somewhere?”

They found a small inn only a few minutes from Madam Stavia’s Salon. Thomasine plopped on the chair while Bethenny waved for the barmaid to take their order for tea and scones.

They left about an hour later after finishing the second cup of tea.

“It tastes bitter,” said Bethenny, waving to the barmaid again.

“All it needs is a touch of honey,” said the barmaid, tasting the tea to make sure. Bethenny added two spoonfuls from the honey pot, tasted it and licked her lips.

They left 20 minutes later and craned their necks, keeping watch for a coach.

Then, when they had given up hope, a coach turned the corner and headed straight for them, stopping in front of them. The coachman dropped to the street and opened the door for them. Another man suddenly appeared and helped them settle inside.

“I think they may have had too much of the drink,” he cackled, driving away without asking for their destination. ***

Nathanial looked at his watch. “It’s past nine. They’ve never been this late before. Something’s wrong.”

“They’ll turn up, Nathaniel,” said Alice Archer.

It didn’t prevent him from pacing the floor and looking at the grandfather clock every 10 minutes. “I don’t wish to alarm you, Alice. I think they’re in some kind of trouble.”

Charlie stood and put on his coat. “I’m going looking. I just can’t sit around doing nothing.”

“I’m with you, Charlie,” said Archer, rising from his chair and giving Charlie a fatherly smile. “Let’s get moving.”

They returned four hours later. Hannah was serving Nathaniel and Alice tea.

Harry Archer shook his head. “Charlie has a head on his shoulders. You’re dead right about him, Nathaniel. We’re heading out first thing in the morning, retracing their steps. We’ll start with the wedding dress and go

from there. Any suggestions?”

“Madam Stavia,” said Hannah without looking up.

“And who is Madam Stavia? “ said Archer.

“They were ecstatic over the petticoats Madam Stavia designed for them,” said Nathaniel.

“And where do we find this famous lady?”

“I don’t know the address, but I can take you there.”

“I’d like to start out before nine, if possible,” said Charlie. Archer looked at Hannah. “We will need you with us.”

Hannah looked at Nathaniel. “Who will look to Mistress Mercy?”

“Don’t worry about that,” said Alice. “Mercy and I get along just fine.” Charlie was up by six, washed and shaved by 6.30 and ready to go by seven. He sat in the chair by the fireplace in the receiving room until Harry and Alice Archer appeared. Hannah prepared breakfast, cleaned up and dressed by nine. Tom was sent out to flag down a coach.

Ten minutes later, they were on their way to Madam Stavia’s Salon. Hannah sat with the coachman to help him find the way.

Madam Stavia saw them descend from the coach and opened the door to greet them. Archer was a bit taken back by her effusive manner. He let her finish talking before asking about his daughter.

“Of course, I remember those two beautiful ladies who spent two hours with me yesterday.”

“Did they say where they were going when they left?”

She shook her head, and then, her eyes flashed. “Not exactly. The young lady who will soon be a bride said she was hungry. Perhaps they stopped at the first inn they saw.”

That wasn’t the case. “We had no young women visit us yesterday,” said the young barmaid. The same story at the next inn. They dismissed the coach and walked along the street to the next inn feeling downhearted.

“Yesterday?” The barmaid nodded. ”I do remember two young women who came in shortly after one. They had done a lot of shopping. One of them was getting married. They did a lot of laughing and complained that their tea tasted bitter, and asked me to bring the honey pot to sweeten their tea. Before I knew it, I saw them leave. They tossed me a coin. They seemed to have trouble getting a coach, but finally, one stopped at the door. I saw the coachman drop to the ground in a hurry and open the door for them. He was helped by a stranger who suddenly popped out of nowhere.”

You have a remarkable memory,” said Archer.

“I should. They left me a shilling.”

“What is your name?” said Charlie. “You have been a great help.”

“Gladys. I won’t get into any trouble, I hope.”

“Right now, Gladys, you were just the angel we needed.”

“Where now?” said Archer. They were standing outside and not sure of the next step.

“The police station, and then to see Oliver Carew.”

Charlie did the talking at the police station, introducing himself as a Member of Parliament. “This gentlemen’s daughter, the lady I intend to marry, disappeared between two and three o’clock yesterday as they left the Golden Goose Inn. They were last seen boarding a coach. They have not been seen since.”

The police sergeant on duty wrote down the information and looked it up. “Anything else?”

“I am not sure, but a few days ago, I found myself being followed by two men. I recognized them as thugs in the pay of Oliver Carew. I defeated Mr. Carew in the recent election, and I told one of your constables about it. These young ladies have no enemies. I suspect he’s involved in their disappearance in some way.”

“We’ll go and see him,” said the sergeant. “How do we contact you?”

Archer gave him Nathaniel’s name and address. They left more worried than before.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Thomasine woke first. She stared at the bare slanted ceiling. She had no idea where she was or how she got there. She nudged Bethenny, who was just beginning to wake up.

“Where are we?” Thomasine was breathing heavily and could hear her heart thudding in her ears. “And why are we in a place like this?”

Bethenny looked at the cracks between the boards on the sidewall. A cold wind blew through the cracks that made her shiver and turned her hands to ice. She heard someone yelling in the distance and turned her head against the smell of putrid flesh that swirled around them with every gust.

“I feel sick and want to get out of here now,” said Thomasine. “It reminds me of my father’s first warehouse on the waterfront. It would appear that the looks of things have abandoned it so that yelling won’t help. There’s no one around to hear us.”

Thomasine shivered and drew her blouse around her. “I don’t know how you can be so logical at a time like this.”

Bethenny sat up and pointed to the two attack dogs sitting in front of the door. Thomasine raised herself on one elbow. The dogs suddenly growled and stood. Saliva dripped from the corners of their mouths. She clutched Bethenny’s arm and sank back on the bed.

“They’re chained to the door casing and can’t reach us unless we try to escape by the door, which appears to be the only way out.”

There’s little chance of that, Bethenny thought. The dogs will have us for breakfast if we make any attempt to get by them. She looked around the room. Save for the bed they were in, there was no other furniture in the room. There was a candle next to their bed but no matches to light it. They probably think we’d try to burn the place down if there was a tinder box to light it. No fireplace. The floor had wide cracks between boards and the sound of rats scampering beneath them. The room had one saving grace – a large window that enabled them to see outside and for someone to see them.

“I want to leave here and never look back.” Thomasine was becoming hysteric. Bethenny put her arm around her. “All we have to do is figure out a way to out-think the dogs, escape through the doors and run as though our lives depended on it. So start thinking.

“Besides, I suspect we’ll know soon find why we’re here and when they plan to release us. We just need to be patient. In the meantime, try to go back to sleep.”

“But it smells so awful.”

Thomasine woke just as dusk was settling in. She sat up and felt for Bethenny. She wasn’t there. The floorboard creaked to the right. Her heart stopped.

“It’s me, Thomasine. I’ve been exploring our new home.”

“But the dogs.”

“They’re chained to the doorpost. The chain isn’t long enough for the mastiffs to reach us. As long as we don’t come near them, we’re safe.”

“I’m dying of hunger.”

“So am I. I’m also sure the people behind this want to keep us alive. Otherwise, we’d be dead by now. They’re probably holding us for ransom. We’ll be no use to them if we die.”

Near midnight, Bethenny heard the dogs growl and rise from the floor. Two men entered. One held a lantern while the other one threw some meat to the dogs. They then approached their bed. In the light of the lantern, she studied their faces without speaking.

“Why have you brought us here?”

The taller man, who had a dark beard and a long scar on the right side of his face, laughed at them. He was dressed in a tattered black coat that reached the floor. “Speak to me only when I talk to you. Otherwise, we’ll feed you to the dogs. We feed them just enough to keep them hungry.” He held the lamp close to their faces before walking away. He then nodded to his companion, who threw a large block of cheese on their bed before leaving the building to bring in a bucket of cold water.

“You will have to learn how to drink from a bucket.”

His companion edged closer to the bed. “I’d keep that cheese under your covers unless you want to share it with the rats. They come out at night, so mind your ankles if you get up in the middle of the night.”

“Can you leave the light?” Bethenny pleaded in a hushed voice. They laughed and left a minute later into the darkness. ***

“I thought we had an understanding, Mr. Marlowe,” said Carew, reaching for his cane. “I do not appreciate being roused by the constabulary about something I know absolutely nothing about.”

I don’t believe you, Mr. Carew,” said Charlie in a stern voice. “I can’t prove it yet, but every bone in my body tells me you’re involved in the disappearance of the two women connected to my campaign. Make no mistake about it. I will bring the full force of the law upon you.”

Carew’s two assistants, sitting behind Charlie, stood. Carew smiled and nodded. If you think you can outfox me, he thought, you’ll soon learn I can handle three of you with my eyes closed. I’ll bring you down, and you’ll be glad if you never see me again.

Charlie could almost read his mind. “Before your two minions decide to make me suddenly disappear, look out the windows first. I have two associates waiting for me to come out. If I do not appear in 15 minutes, one will keep watch on your home while the other fetches the constabulary. They are the fathers of the two women you have abducted. “

“It’s time for you to leave, Mr. Marlowe, and never bother me ever again with these unfounded accusations unless you want to face a lawsuit. I will ruin you.”

Carew sat back in his chair. He liked his home office. It was a replica of the office he occupied at Whitehall – large, large windows to let in the sunlight, expensive Italian floor coverings, and paintings of famous men of England. Charlie sat in a dark blue covered settee in front of Carew’s desk.

“If I find your associates are taking an interest in my comings and goings, they’ll live to regret it, and so will you.”

“Leave while you have the chance.” The words came out as a deep guttural sound.

Charlie rose, opened the door and turned. “Should anything happen to either of those two women, I will make it my life’s work to see that you swing for it.”

He could hear their laughter as he descended and walked onto the street.

“Does that mean we just walk away and forget about our daughters?” said Archer.

“Far from it,” said Charlie. “I have another arrow in my quiver. Instead of worrying if they’re following me, I plan to turn the tables and follow them. My instincts tell me they’ll lead me to Thomasine and Bethenny.”

A well-dressed young man entered Carew’s house and left an hour later, glancing up and down the street before heading in the opposite direction. Charlie kept watch from a table close to the window at an inn across the street. It wasn’t until nightfall that Carew’s associates emerged from Carew’s home carrying two bags.

Charlie paid for his drinks and followed them, making sure he kept in the shadows and away from the lamp posts. Then, turning the corner, he lost them. A strong breeze from the waterfront cooled his face.

He quickened his pace. It led him to a dead-end at the waterfront. He found a recess with dark shadows where he could scan the street unnoticed.

He knew he was on the right track five minutes later when he saw them emerge from their hiding place. He held his breath as they walked past him and turned the corner. Charlie waited five minutes to make sure they weren’t waiting for him at the corner.

He emerged from his hiding place and ran to the corner. He could hear them laughing in the distance and quickened his pace. They led him to the waterfront a few minutes later. That’s where he lost them again. He turned the corner where he had last seen them. It led to a maze of old wooden shacks. They all looked deserted.

Charlie was about to head back to the main road when he heard a dog barking nearby. He turned around, listening for any sound as he slowly passed one shack after shack. They all looked the same.

Then, suddenly, the growling of dogs close by. Charlie approached the first shack, walking on the balls of his feet. It wasn’t until he heard the growling again that he froze. Then, a harsh voice from within the shack.

Charlie started to back away slowly. He would go back when they left. An hour later, the breeze had turned cold, and he began to shiver. The door opened, and he saw them leave, laughing as they passed him and all the rest of the way to the main road.

Charlie waited until he could no longer hear them and walked slowly towards the shack.

Then, without warning, two dogs growled. Charlie stopped. He could hear his heart beating wildly as he pushed the door open. The dogs growled again. He walked quickly past them. They suddenly rose, barking and straining on their chains.

“Thomasine?” he said in a loud voice.

“Charlie? Is it really you? Thank God you’ve come.”

“Are you all right?” he asked, feeling his way in the darkness.

“Scared more than anything else,” said Thomasine.

“Is Bethenny with you?” he said, bumping into their bed.

“Yes,” said Bethenny. How did you find us?”

Charlie felt his way around the bed, feeling Thomasine’s arm and holding her.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Carew’s men entered, passing the growling dogs and throwing them meat. They sat down and chewed contentedly. The two men stepped towards them. One of them lit a candle with his firesteel, and held the candle up to scan Charlie’s face.

“So much for thinking you could outwit us. We spotted you from the outset and lured you here on purpose. So much for thinking you’re so smart. When the dogs get hungry enough to eat all of you, they’ll break their chains, and there won’t be anything left of any of you. Wait until Carew hears about this.”

His companion, who wore a constant snarl, laughed. “In the meantime,” he said to Charlie, “you can entertain yourself with these two ladies.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Charlie opened his eyes. The sun was already high in the sky. “What’s for breakfast?”

Bethenny passed him one of the bags Carew’s men left them. “It’s quite a step up from what we had on the first day. She fingered the slices of roast beef and white bread, cheese and even a bag of tea leaves with a small pot to brew it in. I don’t know how they expected us to brew it.”

Charlie was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking around the room. “This place looks as though it’s going to fall at any second.” He rose and knelt to examine the floorboards. The nails had rusted and felt loose. He went to the back of the building to check the wallboards there. The nails had rusted there as well. He stood and rubbed his hands together.

“I think I’ve found our way out of here.”

He tried pushing on the wallboards, but nothing happened. He needed something to bang against them. He looked around. The only thing he saw was the bucket, and he couldn’t risk losing the water in case it didn’t work. He lay down on the floor, inched his feet closer to the wall, raised them, and used his heels to bash the boards.

Nothing. That didn’t work either. The dogs started to growl. Someone

was at the door, ready to attack anyone who entered. Charlie quickly stood and sat on the edge of the bed.

The tall man with the scar entered, followed by a well-dressed stranger with a cane and a haughty look. He dabbed his nose with his handkerchief to avoid the putrid smell in the room. Thomasine’s eyes lit up.

“Roger.” Thomasine couldn’t help herself.

“Yes, Roger Livingstone, the one person who can save you from certain death.”

“What about the others?”

“Your friends can stay here and rot to death for all I care.” He paused. “When I leave here, you will either be with me or left to die with your socalled companions.”

Thomasine looked at Charlie and started to cry. Bethenny reached out and held her.

The dogs started to sniff his breeches and growled. Carew’s henchman threw some meat in their direction.

“I never got over loving you, Thomasine. No matter whom I court for money, it is you I always think about. Only you. So what is it?”

“If I go with you, will you set my friends free?”

“They will be set free one hour after we leave. You will never see your friends again. You’ve got one minute to make up your mind.”

He started counting to 60. When Thomasine failed to answer him, he turned his back and walked out, leaving Carew’s thugs standing there.

“You just made the worst decision of your life,” said the tall one with the scar.

They started towards him.

“Get back and stay there and stay there or I’ll free the dogs.” He opened the door. “This is the last food you will ever see from us. We won’t be coming back, except to get my dogs.”

The door rattled as he slammed it shut. Charlie looked at Bethenny. “Check the window. We want to make sure they’re gone before trying we to free ourselves.”

The dogs growled as she approached the window. She went as far as she dared. “They’ve disappeared finally.”

“Keep watch and make sure they don’t double back. Warn me the instant you see them.” Charlie examined the bed. When he saw it was made of wood, it seemed to re-energize him again. He knelt on the floor and arched his legs, and kicked the boards again. Still no luck. Then he remembered something his father told him: You can snip a single blade of grass very easy but not if there are 50 or 60 tried together. Try it.

He arched his legs again, this time aiming at the middle board, and thrust with all the power he had in his legs. It still held, but the board was looser than before. He tried again. This time, the board splintered. He looked up and smiled at Thomasine as Bethenny raised her arm in salute.

“Keep watch.”

On the next try, Charlie focused his heels on the board below it. It also gave way after a few well-placed kicks. A half-hour later, he had created a space large enough for them to crawl through.

“You first,” said Thomasine to Bethenny, who slipped through in seconds. Thomasine knelt and slipped through before she knew it. Charlie went through on his knees. They helped him to his feet, locked arms together and found another way out to the main road, walking for almost an hour before hearing the sounds of a coach.

Charlie raised his arm as it approached them. It stopped a few feet down the street and waited for them to climb aboard. Thomasine entered first and was about to cry out when someone put his hand over her mouth. Bethenny entered next and cried out “Charlie” before she was stopped.

The coach started to move. Charlie ran after it, grabbing the outdoor seat on the back of the coach and gradually inching himself forward until his fingers ached. He knew if he let go, he would lose them forever. Charlie slowly reached the foot stand below the back seat, giving his fingers in each hand a rest while trying to keep his grip on the foot stand with his other. From there, he inched his way to the top of the coach.

The coachman heard him and glanced back to see Charlie at once and reached out his whip hand to try to beat Charlie off, aiming his whip at Charlie’s face. Charlie raised his arm to protect himself and moved closer to the front of the coach. Seconds later, Charlie was close enough to grab the whip from his hands and started beating him with it.

The coachman let go of the reins to protect himself. Charlie swung his body next to him and pushed him off the coach as they rounded the corner. Charlie looked back to see him lying on the road.

Charlie grabbed the reins that were slowly slipping away and slowed down the horses. He could hear the other man open the coach door and could see his hands trying to grab the edge of the roof.

He stuck his head out. If you do not stop this coach at once, I’ll throw out your lady friends.” His head disappeared, and he pushed Bethenny’s head out of the window. “Do as I say, or she goes out now.”

Ahead was an inn, and a few shops down, a police station. CHarlie slowed down the horses and brought the coach to a final stop in front of the police station. When Scarface saw he was in front of a police station,

he climbed into the driver’s seat, pushed Charlie off, and got the horses running again.

Bethenny peeked out to see what was happening. She and Thomasine tumbled out of the coach. Charlie saw them alight, just as Scarface saw his chance, and pushed him off, whipping to horses down the road until he disappeared around from sight.

Bethenny was holding Thomasine and trying to calm her. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Thomasine kept repeating as she looked at Charlie.

“It’s over. You’ll never see them again.”

“Not them. Roger.”

“I know all about Roger Livingston, and I dislike everything he stands for.” He spit out the words and held her close.

“I thought I was in love with him. I didn’t know this side of him.”

“Right now, it’s time we all went home.”

“But why did he do this?”

“He loves you in his own twisted way,” said Bethenny. “He wasn’t prepared to marry you, but he still needed you in his life.”

“I want to report him to the police.”

Charlie shook his head. “There are other ways to deal with Mr. Livingstone, starting with inviting him to our wedding. “

They laughed. “In the meantime, we’d better made a complaint about Carew and his two minions,” he added as they entered the police station

The desk sergeant inside the station, who had talked with Charlie before, straightened up. He could smell a development.

“Good afternoon, sergeant.”

“And to you, Mr. Marlowe.”

“We finally found the two ladies we were looking for. They were held captive for two days by two henchmen hired by Carew to kidnap them.”

Sergeant Willis pushed his glasses up his arched nose. “Well, young ladies?”

“It was a nightmare from start to finish,” said Bethenny. “They arranged to drug us and had a coach waiting for us to come out the inn where we stopped for tea. When we awoke, we were in an old, depilated shack at the waterfront, guarded by two hungry mastiffs. There were also rats.

“Charlie followed them later, and they managed to lure him inside and put him with us. They were ready for him. He was able to free us after they pretended to leave. They had a coach waiting for us, grabbed and forced us inside. Charlie was knocked down,” said Thomasine.

“I ran after them and was able to grab hold of the foot seat and gradually make my way to the roof, where I knocked the coachman off,”

said Charlie. “You’ll find him lying on the road a short distance from here. The other one inside the coach could see what was happening, and when we stopped in front of the station, he managed to push me off the driver’s seat and whipped the horses as though the devil were trying to catch him.”

The other two constables in the station laughed. Willis gave them a sharp look. “Are you prepared to lay charges against Mr. Carew?” he said to Thomasine and Bethenny.

“Yes.” They both shouted at the same time.

“And you, Mr. Marlowe?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then leave it with me.”

“We’ll need to hire a coach to take these two ladies home. As you can imagine, they’re frantic with worry and exhausted from their ordeal.”

Willis waved to one of the constables. “Take these two ladies and gentleman home and take a full statement from then. If you find their carriage along the way, find out who owns it. If he doesn’t remember, bring him in for questioning.” ***

Nathaniel shook his head. “While the rest of us, and that includes the police, didn’t know what to do, you figured out how to find them and free them.”

Harry Archer stood and shook his hand. “I know you’ll always look after her.”

“Are the police going to arrest, Carew?” said Nathaniel, who reached for his bottle of Brandy on the fireplace shelf.

Hannah stuck her head in. “I thought I heard Miss Bethenny’s voice.”

“Do you have any pudding left?” said Archer.

Hannah disappeared. Nathaniel uncorked his Brandy bottle and poured each of them a healthy shot. They toasted each other as Hannah arrived with a pot steaming with pudding and a pitcher of milk to cool it down. He returned with bowls for them all. “Shall I get Mistress Mercy and Mistress Alice?”

“By all means, said Archer. “The prodigals have returned, and it’s time to celebrate their safe return.”

Mercy arrived first, with her nightdress wrap around her shoulders. Alice came a few minutes later, also dressed in her nightdress wrap. When she saw Thomasine, she began to cry and hugged both of them.

“Charlie found us and helped us to escape,” said Thomasine.” It was

Carew. Charlie was right about him all the time.”

“Both your daughters and I have lodged a complaint, and a warrant has been issued for the arrest of Carew and his henchmen.”

“We didn’t mention Roger Livingstone,” Thomasine blurted.

“What about Roger?” said Archer.

“We’re not sure whether he was involved,” Charlie broke in. “I saw him leave Carew’s house. He was followed by Carew’s two henchmen a bit later and again in the waterfront shack where they imprisoned us.”

“Did you mention this to the police?” asked Archer.

Charlie didn’t want to. At least, not now,” said Thomasine. “We want to invite him to our wedding.”

“He’ll never know when we’ll go to the police,” said Charlie. “I thought we might forget about going to the police until the day before his wedding.”

Nathaniel looked at Charlie and smiled. “Remind me not to tangle with you.”

“Or me,” said Archer, as they all laughed.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Hannah arranged a secret party for Thomasine the week before the wedding. Bethenny wrote letters to all their friends, including Rosamund Livingstone.

“Rosamund is not Roger,” said Bethenny when her father raised his eyebrows.

“You know Thomasine’s father would like to see him swing for this, but I’ve calmed him down. Charlie’s approach is smarter and will taste sweeter. In the meantime, no more problems. I’ve had enough to last a lifetime.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Your mother. She had not been herself since you disappeared. She went into fits of crying and stopped eating. The doctor wanted to bleed her, but I know you are against it, so I refused. I think he’s a bit upset with me.”

“You did the right thing. Your mother needs lots and lots of love and understanding, good food in her stomach, and something to occupy her mind. I’ll spend the rest of the day with her and get her help in decorating for Thomasine’s party.”

Archer found Nathaniel in the kitchen. “Alice wants to go back to Oxford and have the wedding there. I don’t agree, but she’s making life miserable for everyone, including Thomasine. She thinks Thomasine would be safer there. Can you talk with her?”

“I’m not sure she’ll listen to me any more than you, Harry. But I have an idea. I’ll talk to Bethenny, who ‘s good at coaxing people.”

Over dinner, Bethenny leaned towards Alice, who was picking at her vegetables. “I need your help, Alice. My mother has not been herself lately, and I fear she will die if she does not snap out of it. It all started when Thomasine and I went missing.” She paused. “My mother loves you. You are the only person she will listen to. I beg you to help us.”

There were tears in Alice’s eyes. “I understand exactly how she feels. Let me go and get her. Maybe I can get her to eat with me.” She left and returned with Mercy with her arm over Alice’s shoulder and laughing.

Clarendon was waiting for Charlie. “I don’t understand you. I offer you a promotion, and you disappear on me for three days. You don’t appear to be reliable.”

“I’m sorry. I’m getting married in a couple of weeks and the lady I’m marrying was kidnapped. I spent the past three days tracking her down and was able to rescue her.”

“Did you report this to the police?”

“Yes, and she and her best friend have registered a complaint against Oliver Carew, who lost out to me in the election.”

“Oliver Carew, you say. He’s a bad apple. We had run-ins with him in previous parliaments. We always felt a sense of unease about him. He carries grudges. Be careful.”

“Wait until I tell Hyde, who also had a big problem with him but was unable to prove it when his case came to trial. As I said, watch yourself.”

Clarendon put down his quill. His desk was crammed with paper, and there were ink stains on his fingers. The room smelled of dust and antiquity. He motioned Charlie to the leather chair in front of his desk. He sat with his back to the window, which showed glimpses of barges moving on the Thames.

“To bring you up to date, I’ve had a word with Hyde. You’ll be his parliamentary assistant and sit on the Treasury Bench with him when Parliament is in session.” He passed him a large folder. “You may wish to familiarize yourself with its contents before Parliament resumes. In the meantime, stop by Hyde’s office and get to know his people.”

***

Rosamund Livingstone was the first to arrive with a handsome young man at her side. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought Alastair along with me. I can’t bear to be away from him even for a minute.”

“How wonderful to see you again, Rosamund,” said Thomasine, escorting them into the receiving room. “When did you get into town?”

“This morning.” She looked at Bethenny, taking off her jacket.

Rosamund was wearing a new petticoat with red and blue embroidery and looked stunning. “I wanted to see you, Thomasine, before you become an old married woman, with three kids plucking at your skirts.”

They laughed and turned to see Tom escort two others into the receiving room.

“We were in the neighbourhood and thought we’d stop by to see you. We hear that you two have gone through a terrible ordeal.

Rosamund’s eyes widened. “What’s this?”

“Thomasine and I were kidnapped for a couple of days. Charlie rescued us.”

“My heavens.” Rosamund’s face blanched. “How terrible. You should have told me, but instead, you let me babble on about things that don’t matter.”

“It’s all over now,” said Thomasine. “We escaped unharmed and none of the worse for it. We’ve filed a complaint with the police.”

Bethenny smiled. “But let’s not talk about bad things.”

Another three young women joined them a few minutes later. Thomasine looked puzzled.

“It’s a surprise party. It was Hannah’s idea,” said Bethenny. “So let’s start partying.”

Hannah, who combed her dark brown hair to resemble her mother’s hairstyle, emerged from the kitchen with a tray full of glasses of spiced wine, followed a few minutes later by trays of sweets and cheese. Everyone seemed to start talking at the same time, and before long, their voices raised a notch higher as the effects of the alcohol warmed the room. Someone started singing some of the old songs they knew when they were young, and towards the end of the evening, they presented Thomasine with gifts, starting with a scrubbing board and a box of diapers that sent them into fits of laughter.

It was getting dark when they left, kissing each other and hugging Thomasine as though they would never see her again.

“I hope to see you all at the wedding,” Thomasine shouted as they descended the stairs. Bethenny could still hear their laughter as Charlie closed the door and went to find coaches for them.

The coach stopped in front of them just as Charlie approached. He looked up at the coachman. The scar on the side of his face was unmistakable. “Don’t get on that coach,” Charlie shouted. The coachman jumped down as soon as he saw him and disappeared around the corner.

“What did you do that for?” said one of the men. “Now, we’ll never get a coach.”

“He was one of the thugs who kidnapped Thomasine and Bethenny. “

Tom left to find another coach. He returned a few minutes later, sitting beside the coachman. Charlie scanned the coachman’s face and nodded to Rosamund, and watched their coach until it disappeared.

He decided to tell Nathaniel and Harry Archer about it.

“No need to worry Thomasine and Bethenny, but one of us should be with them at all times,” said Archer.

Charlie shook his head. “They won’t like it.”

Nathaniel shrugged. “It’s better than being kidnapped again.”

“What about the constabulary?” said Archer.

“They’ve visited Carew, who claims no knowledge about it. If we can grab one of his thugs, I can testify, and so can Thomasine and Bethenny. That will change everything, especially if they break down and identify Carew as the instigator.”

Carew has to know that, Charlie.”

He has a huge ego and thinks that he’s smarter than everyone else. You can be sure he’s still spinning his web. Clarendon warned me about him and described him as someone who carries grudges.

“Which reminds me, I met with Clarendon today. He wants me to assist Sir Edward Hyde and sit at the Treasury Bench when Parliament is in session.”

“Wonderful,” said Archer.

“He told me they had a lot of problems with Carew in previous parliaments and were relieved when voters booted him out. He described him as an evil man.”

“I think we need a couple bullies of our own,” said Archer with a smile in his eyes.

“I’m with you, Harry,” said Nathaniel.

“Get them to keep watch on Carew’s home and find out who enters and leaves,” said Charlie. “I’m particularly interested in the gentleman who has a scar on the right side of his face. We need to know where he lives and who his associates are.”

“Leave that to me,” said Archer. “I had occasion to use their services once or twice in my business.”

Thomasine and Bethenny appeared while they were talking. “We need to go to Madam Stavia’s salon and pick up Thomasine’s wedding dress.”

Harry Archer didn’t wait for Bethenny to finish. “You can’t go alone.”

“Nathaniel and I will escort you. We have to assume we’re being watched. If they see two men are escorting you, they may think twice about it.”

The trip to Madam Stavia’s salon was uneventful. Harry kept looking back to see if they were being followed.

Madam Stavia crushed Thomasine with her arms. “I was worried something had happened to you.” She looked at Nathaniel and turned to Harry. “You are the father of the bride, yes?”

Thomasine couldn’t wait any longer. “Is it finished, Madam Stavia?”

Madam Stavia couldn’t wait either. Her eyes flashed like lightning

across a night sky, and there was excitement in her voice. “Andiamo. Let us go to the fitting room this instant.”

Harry Archer was about to follow. Madam Stavia raised her hand. “Men are not permitted.”

Her gown had the feel of gossamer, as though it floated on her. ”I can barely feel it.”

“See how you look.”

Thomasine floated in front of the salon’s wide mirror. “I will be the envy of every woman who comes to my wedding. Thank you, Madam Stavia.” Her eyes shone.

“It is you, my lovely,” she said to Thomasine. “You turn everything you wear into magic.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

It was a night of revelations. Mercy was her old self, laughing and remarking on Alice’s dress. Nathaniel glanced at Alice, who just smiled. “Mercy was telling me that Matthew Talbot was courting Bethenny. Is there another wedding in the offing?”

Nathaniel turned to Bethenny. “If there is, it’s the first I’ve ever heard about it. What about it, Bethenny?”

Thomasine looked at Bethenny, who shook her head. “I have not made up my mind. I asked him to give me time to make up my mind, and he had agreed.”

“How can you be so foolish,” said Mercy.

Nathaniel couldn’t contain himself. “I am aware you have a mind of your own, but he saved you from a terrible death, and you treat him in such a dismissive way.”

“Bethenny has good reasons for how she feels,” Thomasine blurted.

“Would you mind letting us in on those reasons?” asked Nathaniel. Bethenny answered for her. “I will never forget his generosity, but if it means I must pay by spending the rest of my life with him, I’d rather die.” Bethenny held her breath. The silence that followed her outburst seemed to suck the energy out of the room.

“I’m sure she has her reasons, Nathaniel,” said Alice. “They may not make sense to you or me, but I think your daughter is a very wise young woman.”

Later, when she snuffed out the candle, Thomasine lay on her back and stared into the blackness. “I’m sorry I got you into trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it. It will blow over in six days when you become Mrs. Marlowe. Tomorrow we need to make a list of everything we need to do before the big day.”

***

Thomasine was unpacking from their shopping expedition when Tom escorted a young man in royal livery into the receiving room.

“I have a message for Mistress Bethenny from Her Majesty, The Queen.”

Nathaniel looked at him suspiciously. “What is this about, young man?”

“Is Mistress Bethenny here?”

Hannah went into the kitchen. “There’s a messenger from The Queen asking for you.”

Bethenny wiped her hands on her apron and went into the receiving room. “I am Bethenny Hadley.”

He bowed and passed her a sealed letter. “Her Majesty asked that you respond to her message through me.”

Bethenny broke the seal and read it:

I hope this letter finds you well. It appears that you have two young men seeking your hand. I have just finished an audience with Master Matthew Talbot, asking me to intercede on his behalf and encourage you to accept his proposal. Kindly let me know your response.

Bethenny looked up and took a deep breath. “Kindly tell Her Majesty that I have not made up my mind and that she will be the first person I will tell when I do. Please also thank her for her concern, and extend my best wishes for her good health. Tell her also that she is always in my prayers.”

“In that case, Mistress Bethenny, The Queen requests that you present yourself on Monday next.”

“Tell Her Majesty that I accept her gracious invitation and that I look forward to meeting her.”

Nathaniel looked at her for answers when the young man left.

“Matthew has asked The Queen to intercede on his behalf to encourage me to marry him.”

“She is a very stubborn woman, Bethenny. Are you sure you’re up to it?”

“I will tell her straight out that I have made up my mind not to marry Matthew, no matter who asks me on his behalf.”

“You owe him surely.”

“I do, and I do not.”

“What kind of talk is that?”

“Please do not ask me. Trust me, as your daughter, who loves you dearly, that I have good reasons, and let it go at that.”

“Let me say I think you’re making the biggest mistake of your life and also let it go at that.” Then, after a pause: “Would you like me to go with you?”

“I will be fine.”

“Do you plan to tell The Queen your reason for refusing him?”

“Only as a last resort.”

“She’s not going to like it. We both know she’s a hard-headed woman who likes to get her way and spiteful when she doesn’t.”

***

“We are happy to see you again, Mistress Bethenny. You are a welcome addition to our Court. But let us go straight to the point. My messenger tells me you have no wish to marry Master Talbot. Is there a reason?”

“There is, and he knows what it is.”

“Could you share that reason with us?”

“I’d rather not, at least not at this time.”

“And if I ask him?”

“That is not a problem, at least not for me.”

“Yet, I recall he was willing to post your bail when you were accused of witchcraft.”

“That is correct.”

“Yet you still refuse him?”

Bethenny bowed her head. Several courtiers paused to look at them and started whispering among themselves. She glanced at the tapestries on the right wall and the young woman playing a lute and singing softly.

“Rather than making a definite answer today, may we ask you to think about it and visit us again. Perhaps you will have a different response by then.”

Bethenny bowed again. “By all means, Your Majesty.” ***

Nathaniel, who was waiting on a coach outside the court, opened the door for her. “Well?”

“Her Majesty was very gracious. She asked me to think it over for a month or two and visit her again.”

They drove home in silence until Tom came out to help them descend from the coach. Nathaniel put his arm around her. “I know you are not a flighty or silly woman and that you know what you’re about. I’m sure your reason is a good one.”

Better news awaited them as they climbed the stairs to the receiving room. Charlie was smiling and holding Thomasine close to him. “Our good friend, Oliver Carew and his two henchmen have been arrested by the police. It was his two thugs who gave him away. The constabulary followed them for a couple of days, and all roads led to Carew. Sergeant Willis sent a runner to inform us and that they will appear in court tomorrow. He needs us there to testify.”

“That is wonderful news,” said Nathaniel.

“That’s not all. It seems that Carew came into some money recently, and I think we all know where that came from. They’re investigating that now. But beyond all else, we now can feel safe. Carew and his associates are now awaiting trial as guests of His Majesty.”

“Just in time for the wedding.”

Hannah brought in a tray of spiced wine in tall glasses. “Stay with us, Hannah. You’re part of the family,” said Nathaniel.

***

Charlie sat down with Sir Edward Hyde a few days later. ”So you want to disappear for a week,” said Sir Edward, who had a round face, long grey sideburns and jowls that danced when he spoke.

“I’m getting married tomorrow,” said Charlie.

“Damme. Marry, you say. I think we can arrange that. Good luck. Is she a looker?”

“That and more.”

“Can you finish everything before you take off?”

“You can count on that. And thank you again.”

“Clarendon tells me you’re a comer. I suspect you’re that and more. Clarendon is not an easy man to please. Does he know yet? He’ll be happy to hear this. He likes to see his people married and have their feet rooted in reality.”

Charlie glanced at the mound of paper on the right side of his desk when his young assistant announced that he had a visitor. He liked to work with his back to the window to avoid distractions.

He looked up to see Carew suddenly appear. Charlie nodded to his assistant to remain.

“You seem surprised to see me, Mr. Marlowe. Thanks to you, I have been incarcerated on trumped-up charges levied against me by you and your two lovely playmates. My trial is a week today, and who knows what can happen in that time. As you may have guessed, I’m out on bail.”

“What are you here for, Carew?”

“To ask you to withdraw your charges. I can also be a good friend.”

“I will never forgive you for what you did to those two young women and leaving them to die by two hungry mastiffs.”

Charlie’s assistant raised his eyebrows and made a note of their exchange.

“That was not ordered by the gentleman, who assumed control of their confinement. Not I.”

“How much did he pay you?”

“I shall let him know you asked about him.” He looked around at Charlie’s assistant. “I hope nothing untoward happens to you or your bride.” Carew smiled and left without looking back.

Charlie glanced at the stack of paper, took down the first item, smoothed it out, and started reading it.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

“Whydo we need to go to court?” Bethenny had enough of courts to last her a lifetime.

“I thought I mentioned that yesterday. You, Thomasine and I have laid charges against Carew and his gang, and the Crown has sent us a demand to appear as witnesses,” said Charlie.

Thomasine shook her head. “I don’t feel up to it.”

“If you don’t, you could face some time in gaol. Whether you feel up to it or not, the court doesn’t care. I want you both ready in 15 minutes.” One other thing, the court does not take kindly to witnesses who arrive late.”

Bercher was waiting for them at the door. He led them to the witness room and briefed them on the kinds of questions he would ask them. “I’ll be calling you first, Mr. Marlowe.”

Charlie made his way to the courtroom. He couldn’t wish for a better outcome. Oliver Carew and his two associates appeared at the dock, with Henshaw as the presiding judge, looking colder and even more impatient. Bercher called Marlowe to the stand. Henshaw looked at him carefully. “Aren’t you that cheeky devil who appeared before me as some kind of barrister? I thought I told you not to appear before me unless you’re dressed as a barrister.”

Bercher rose. “May it please the court, Mr. Marlowe does not appear today as a barrister but as a witness for the Crown.”

“Then get on with it and not waste any more time.”

Bercher asked Charlie to identify himself.

“My name is Charles Marlowe. I was recently elected MP.”

“Why is that important in this case, Mr. Marlowe?”

“I defeated Mr. Carew at the recent by-election as MP. Since that time, he has had me followed by two of his associates. I feared for my life and reported my concerns to the constabulary.”

“And that’s it?”

“He also had my future wife and her friend drugged at an inn and

taken to a deserted building at the waterfront, where two large mastiffs guarded them. When I followed his two associates, it led me to the building. I waited until they left, and I entered to find my future wife and her friend frightened to death and starving. They returned to find me with them and left us some food and their two voracious dogs. We managed to escape by kicking a hole large enough to crawl through at the back of the building.”

Gavin Bradshaw, Carew’s barrister, stood and looked at Charlie a full minute before speaking. He held the openings of his robe in each hand.

“Has Mr. Carew ever threatened you?”

“Not in his exact words. He came to my office and asked me to withdraw the charges against him. I told him I would not. And he told me that I should be concerned about the safety of the lives of my future wife and her friend.”

“And that’s your whole case against Mr. Carew?”

“I had someone witness Carew’s remarks to me as he left.”

“No. I saw Carew before. I was with the father of my future bride and the father of her friend. He was conferring with his two associates as he left his home with them.”

“I submit you were following him and the other way around.”

“That was shortly after my future wife, and her friend were kidnapped. I decided to follow them in hopes they would lead me to their captives. And that is precisely what they did.”

“Did you at any time see these ladies in the company of Mr. Carew there?”

“No.”

Bradshaw sat down and looked at Bercher.

“We were going to call Mr. Carew’s assistants, who have confessed their part in the crime and name Mr. Carew as the instigator, and that they were acting only on his orders. In their place, we would be pleased to call the two ladies who were kidnapped for their testimony.”

Henshaw read through the two confessions. “That will not be necessary. I have reached my verdict. Guilty.”

A black cloth was placed on his head. He looked at Carew again. “You are sentenced to hang two weeks hence. May God have mercy on your soul.”

Thomasine’s face turned white. She was holding onto Bethenny’s arm when she fainted.

“Where’s Charlie,” said Nathaniel. They were sitting at his favourite

restaurant, and Mercy was getting anxious. She kept complaining she was hungry, and when he ordered her something to nibble on, she pushed it away.

“We’ll give him another hour,” said Nathaniel, “and if he doesn’t show up by then, we’ll start without him.”

“Is everything set for tomorrow?” Harry Archer had a strong practical streak.

“Yes,” said his wife. “We’ve arranged for the people here to create a wedding meal, including a four-tier wedding cake. People will talk about our wedding for years.”

“And I have another surprise,” said Harry. “But we’ll talk about that when Charlie gets here.”

Charlie finally arrived just as their meal was ending. “Sir Edward wanted me to deal with a mile-high stack of letters and his responses to Mr. Clarendon before I left for the day.” Then, after a pause: “He also gave me a week off to get married.”

He ordered his meal and ate quickly while the wedding party greeted well-wishers in the restaurant who had learned Charlie and Thomasine were getting married. Mercy was starting to doze off.

Charlie turned up at St. Giles an hour before the wedding, dressed in a new red and blue coat with short loose sleeves and dark breaches that made him look like a dandified Marconi. He hid behind a large column where he could see everyone who entered the church, including a dog, which started barking at him. It belonged to a boy, who entered and dragged his dog outside.

Rosamund turned up with a handsome young man and sat in one of the front pews. Rebecca Hardwicke also came with a young man and her parents. Most of Thomasine’s friends arrived in the final minutes before the ceremony.

Charlie started looking around for Robbie Fawcett, his best man, who was still missing. Thomasine hadn’t arrived, so there was still time. He looked down the rows of pews and saw someone rise and walk towards him. His heart fell when he saw it was an older man.

He almost jumped when someone tapped him on the shoulder. It was a constable. “We heard you were getting married today, and I’m here to make sure nothing happens.”

“Thank you, constable.” He looked over his shoulder as a coach

stopped at the entrance. Robbie jumped out and tossed the driver a shilling.

“Had a nightmare trying to get here. I tried flagging a coach for almost 40 minutes before snagging one. I hope I’m not late.”

“Your timing is perfect. Thomasine hasn’t arrived yet. Let’s walk to the head of the church, where the minister is waiting for us.”

They walked down the centre aisle and stood waiting for Thomasine and Bethenny. Another five minutes went by before Charlie heard a coach stop outside.

The organ started to play as Bethenny entered, carrying a bunch of flowers, followed by Thomasine and her father. Nathaniel, Mercy and Alice took their place in the front pew.

For Charlie, the ceremony seemed to take forever. When it was finally over, Thomasine took his arm and smiled at him. Alice passed her a bouquet of roses and kissed her.

They strolled down the central aisle and to a coach that would be waiting to take them back to Nathaniel’s house. Everyone crowded around them as Thomasine turned her back and tossed her bouquet to the crowd. Rosamund caught it and smiled a smile of smiles.

The constable who Willis had sent tipped his hat and suddenly produced a knife. Robbie Fawcett, who had been trailing them, pushed them away and unsheathed his sword. The constable grabbed Thomasine and held a knife at her throat.

“Now, back off. I’m going to leave here with your bride. If you make any attempts to rush me, I will kill her.”

He backed away slowly, holding his knife at Thomasine’s throat. Bethenny, who was a few steps behind him, crouched behind Rosamund and her boyfriend and suddenly jumped and knocked the knife from his hand as he was passing them. He turned and started to run through the crowd, where he was caught and held by Rebecca Wagstaffe’s boyfriend.

Robbie took charge. “I’ll fetch the Constabulary and a couple of you strong young men to pin him down and keep him pinned down until the Constabulary arrive. Who’ll volunteer? Harry and Nathaniel raised their hands. “Don’t relax your grip on him until the Constables arrive.” He ran off as fast as his feet could take him. At the end of the street, he stopped and doffed his hat and yelled, “I’ll see you back at the reception.”

The chefs and waiters from The Golden Fleece had transformed the dining room into a Garden of Eden with three long tables covered with

white cloths, each illuminated by two large Candelabra.

“You look stunning, Thomasine,” said Rosamund, who was the first to arrive. “Your dress. You float in it like an angel. Where did you get it?”

“It was created by Madam Stavia, whose petticoats make us look more beautiful than we are, although that would be difficult in your case, Rosamund. You do not need anything to make you look beautiful.”

“I agree,” said her boyfriend. “We haven’t met. My name is William Fillmore, and I am in love with your friend, who keeps me dancing at the end of her string.”

“He’s handsome, Rosamund.”

“My father is against us getting married. He doesn’t think William is rich enough and never will be.”

“I heard that story before,” said Thomasine. “If I were you, I’d run away and get married.”

“What do you do, William?” said Thomasine.

“I teach Roman history at Oxford.”

“I was a poor barrister with no clients and no future when I met Thomasine. I loved her the first time I ever set eyes on her,” said Charlie. “Bethenny’s father saw something in me I did not see in myself. I am now an MP and an assistant to Sir Edward Hyde, Chancellor of the Exchequer. Anything can happen.”

“My father is not like Nathaniel Hadley,” said Rosamund, who was close to tears.

“My door is always open to you, Rosamund. Know that always.” Thomasine embraced her and held her close for almost a minute. “And don’t forget. You’re the one who caught my wedding bouquet.”

Rebecca Wagstaffe and her boyfriend caught up with them a few minutes later. “What a wonderful wedding. Everything went off perfectly.” She turned to Rosamund. “Meet the new love of my life, Phil Spalding. He’s a banker and the best there is, as well as being the most handsome man I’ve ever met. He wants to marry me. What do you think?”

Bethenny appeared from downstairs and ran to hug them.

“The four witches back together again,” said Rebecca. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day. What devilish plots are you three brewing up these days?”

Rosamund smiled and put her arm around Phillip. She never looked more beautiful in a tight white blouse with pawd sleeves lined with pink and a matching petticoat. Her hair was a mass of black curls.

Rebecca’s new boyfriend, Andrew, could barely keep his eyes off her. Charlie, who had left to get some wine, passed one of the glasses to him.

“I understand that you’re an MP. That’s incredible. I always thought that you had to be in your dotage to qualify.”

Charlie laughed. “You’re close.”

“Rosamund is an extraordinarily beautiful woman.”

“She is, and her family is all about money. Her boyfriend teaches at Oxford. They’re deeply in love. Unless you’re very, very rich, do not even think about it.”

Rebecca talked excitedly with Bethenny, Rosamund and Thomasine while keeping her eye on Andrew, who smiled back at her boyishly.

Nathanial stood as Hannah rang the gong for dinner. Charlie and Thomasine led the way, followed by her parents and Bethenny and her parents. Rosamund and Rebecca, and their boyfriends sat at one of the other tables.

Henry Archer stood, and all the tables went silent. “I must tell you that Alice and I dreaded this day. But we have since come to love Charlie as our son and a great blessing in our lives. A word about Thomasine, of whom we are very proud. She has grown into the woman we all hoped she would become. It opened my eyes to something else. The world is changing. New lands are being discovered, and discoveries are changing our world in more ways than we think or understand. Into this new dangerous world, Thomasine and Charlie will face challenges we may never know. But together, these two will weather the storm and have the time of their lives doing it.”

He raised his glass. “Please join me in toasting a bright future for Thomasine and Charlie.”

Everyone stood and raised their glasses: “May they have long lives and love each other while doing it.”

Hannah looked as though she was about to break into tears. Thomasine sought Bethenny out as the dinner ended. They both suddenly realized their young, carefree days were over and hugged again.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Thomasine was out of breath. “I’m pregnant. You’re the first person I’ve told. Even Charlie doesn’t know yet. I’ll tell him at dinner.”

Bethenny made room for her on the settee. “You sound out of breath. Are you all right?”

“I climbed the stairs faster than perhaps I should have. I still can’t believe it.”

“What‘s it like to be an old married woman?”

“Heavenly. Charlie makes me tea and brings it to my bed every morning.”

Hannah emerged from the kitchen with Mercy. ”Mistress Thomasine, I thought I heard your voice.”

“She brings us news.”

Mercy sat down next to Thomasine. “I can see it in your eyes. Congratulations.”

Hannah guessed, too. “Could I get you something? My mother always said it’s good for your baby if you drink a lot of milk.”

They all laughed, including Mercy. ***

Harry and Alice Archer arrived a week later for what he called unfinished business and decided to stay with Nathaniel so that the newlyweds could spend time alone. Alice kept her eye on Thomasine and smiled as she pictured the future. The pregnancy changed everything.

Harry decided to hold a special dinner at The Golden Fleece to celebrate their good fortune. He sat next to Charlie and shared the latest jokes with him. He pushed back his chair and used his fork to strike his water glass.

Harry rose and looked at Thomasine. “Your great news has changed our lives and our expectations. Thank you.” He paused. “Alice and I have an announcement to make of our own. We are going to build a house for you and Charlie and your children. We plan to talk to a builder before the end of the week about it.”

Charlie led the clapping. Thomasine put her arms around her father and whispered, “thank you.”

Later, when they all retired to Nathaniel’s receiving room for tea and Hannah’s mince pies. Alice sat next to Thomasine and held her hand while Harry turned to Charlie. “What’s the word from Parliament these days?”

“It’s not sitting in summer, but I’m still swamped with work.”

Harry tamped some tobacco into his yellow pipe bole and lit it with a straw from a nearby candle. “It’s been devilishly hot and dry summer. I’ll be glad when autumn comes.”

***

Sir Edward Hyde kept shaking his head. He handed Charlie a letter from the Court, in which the King was requesting more funds from Parliament for the upkeep of the Court. It was his third request that year.

“His Majesty seems to have no idea that this money has to be raised from shopkeepers, business owners and landowners, and they’re all starting to resist, especially the landowners. Not that I blame them. We’d like you to see His Majesty and tell him that the Commons budget has already been spent and that there is no more money in the Treasury.”

“I’m not sure I have the proper gravitas needed for such an undertaking. Surely someone more senior than I would be best suited to handle such a delicate matter.”

Hyde liked Charlie for his sincerity and lack of guile. “I also have a number of needs for which I need His Majesty’s support and approval.”

Charlie nodded. “I understand, Sir Edward, but I will need your guidance.”

“You will have it.”

A week later, six days before Charlie was to see the King, Sir Edward outlined the King’s demands and what he might say. “I trust you will tell him more kindly. Any questions?”

“Why do his demands keep rising?”

“Essentially his penchant for conferring pensions on a growing list of young women. I don’t envy having to talk about that with him, should it come up.”

Hyde gave him a final review of the country’s finances and the King’s demands the day before his meeting. “The rest is up to you. You will see His Majesty at two o’clock.”

Charlie arrived at Court 10 minutes early and was met by a young courtier, who led him to the King’s chambers. Charles met him without his

black, shoulder-length wig. He was wearing green breeches, a white shirt and a twisted red scarf at his neck and sat with one leg dangling over the arm of his chair.

“What is your name?”

“Charles Marlowe, Your Majesty.”

“Well, Charles Marlowe, have those dimwits you work for come to their senses.”

“I’m not a doctor, Your Majesty, but a lowly MP, unlettered to all the intricacies that bedevil all decisions of Your Majesty’s government.”

“Forget the weasel talk, Marlowe. Are they going to give me what I asked for?”

“They have concerns.”

“Damme, Marlowe. About what?”

Charlie wasn’t prepared for such directness. “Essentially, your generous pensions to reward those who have worked hard for the success of the realm.”

“What do you suggest?”

“The country has fallen on bad times, and the poor are suffering greatly. Why not consider some other way to reward these good people, Your Majesty?”

“Do you have something in mind?”

“Such as granting them acreage in Jamaica or the Carolinas.”

“I’m glad to see you’ve survived your visit to the lion’s den,” said Hyde. “How was His Majesty?”

“He is a very charming man.”

“That suggests that you gave him what he wanted.”

“Actually, no. I told the King the country was on hard times and suggested he forego other pensions in favour of granting his people land in Jamaica or the Carolinas instead.”

“What was his reaction?”

“He seemed pleased and thanked me for the suggestion.”

Later in the day, Sir Edward looked in on him. “It seems His Majesty has taken a liking to you.” He paused. “I hope we don’t lose you.”

“No problem with that, Sir Edward. I love being an MP and everything about it, especially helping the forgotten poor. Above all, I love being here and working with you.”

“The King can be very persuasive when he sets his mind to it.”

“Being an MP excites me more than anything else I have ever done or

would hope to do with my life.”

***

Harry Archer lit the candles on the table while Alice added plates and cutlery. Charlie was helping Thomasine in the kitchen.

“Let me get this straight. You actually met and talked to His Majesty today. What is he like?”

“One of the most charming men I have ever met. He knows what he wants and knows how to get it.”

“Would it be indelicate if I asked why you met with him?”

“Not indelicate but something I cannot talk about.”

Harry told Nathaniel about it when they returned to the Hadleys. “You told me once that you thought Charlie would lead the government one day. I scoffed at it at the time. I don’t anymore.”

It was hotter than usual that night, and they were forced to fan themselves. “If we don’t get rain soon, the crops will fail.”

***

Henry and Charlie met with a builder the following week.

“You seem pretty sure,” said Thomasine when Harry talked about the house with Thomasine and her mother.

“I’ve been looking for a space to build close to Bethenny. Haven’t seen a piece of ground I like yet.”

“Perhaps, we should hire a carriage and drive around the area,” said Alice.

Charlie’s eyes lit up. “We’ll make a day of it. We’ll drop you off at the Hadleys on our way back.”

Thomasine couldn’t wait for Sunday, and when it arrived, Harry and Charlie left to hire a carriage. They set out after lunch. The sun was hot, and Alice and Thomasine brought their parasols to shield them from the sun. They travelled around the neighbourhood without finding a suitable place for a home.

Thomasine felt faint in the heat, and Alice asked Harry to stop at an inn. “She looked very pale. I fear for her and the baby.”

Henry snapped the reins, and their two horses sped down the long road back. “We’re getting close to Nathaniel’s.”

They turned the corner, and Thomasine swayed with it. The Hadleys were only five minutes away. They stopped in front of their door, and Charlie leaped out and pounded on the door and kept pounding until Tom opened it. Alice helped Thomasine out of the carriage.

Henry took her arm as Alice shook open her pink parasol in a sudden

burst. The horses reared with their hooves just missing Thomasine’s head. She fainted in her mother’s arms.

Tom opened the door wider as Charlie picked her up and staggered up the stairs. Nathaniel called out to Bethenny.

“Take her to my bedroom,” said Bethenny as Charlie entered the receiving room.

Hannah saw what was happening and ran to Bethenny’s bedroom and turned down the bed covers for her. Henry and Charlie followed them. Alice was crying and wringing her hands. “It was my fault. If I hadn’t opened my parasol when I did, she would be fine now.”

Bethenny squeeze by them. “I need room to examine her.”

“Everybody out,” said Charlie. Hannah stayed with Bethenny, who was undoing Thomasine’s clothes to examine her body. She bent down and put her head on Thomasine’s stomach. The heat in the room was stifling. Hannah left to get some cold water and a cloth to wipe Thomasine’s face.

Thomasine moaned after a couple of minutes, and her breathing became less laboured. She opened her eyes and saw Bethenny’s face bending over her.

“My baby?”

“Everything is fine.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I could hear your baby moving.”

I’ll never, never understand you, Bethenny. You’ve got more common sense than any I have ever known. The last thing I remember was seeing that ghastly horse rear up and their hooves coming down on me. I couldn’t move. As though I was paralyzed. What happened to me?”

“You were out in the sun too long.”

They saw each other almost every day after that and talked about the baby. “You will be with me when my time comes,” Thomasine said, looking at Bethenny, who nodded.

Bethenny hoped September would bring a break in the heat. The heat stayed with no sign of letting up.

Chapter Forty

Bethenny woke to Hannah’s whispers. “Your father would like to talk to you immediately,” she said, laying out Bethenny’s clothes for the day. She helped her wash and comb her hair.

Her father was at the dining room table. His face looked as though he hadn’t slept in days. “I need to talk to you about an urgent matter and make some decisions.”

His face turned a shade greyer. “Fire has broken out in London and has been spreading out of control. I hope it will be extinguished before it reaches us. But we have to assume the worst, plan now for that eventuality and what we need to do before then.”

“What about mother?”

“I’m not sure. If the fire continues unabated, we may need to leave in a hurry and find accommodation outside of London, where we’ll be beyond the fire. At the moment, it’s quite far from us, but I have been through fires before, and they’re like a walk in hell.”

Bethenny finished breakfast, leaving half of it uneaten on her plate. She didn’t say much but went upstairs to the roof to see it with her own eyes. The smoke was drifting in their direction. She swallowed to get rid of the acrid taste in her mouth. Despite the heat, she shivered.

She went back down to the main floor. Her father was drinking tea with more Brandy than usual. “I need four wagons and four drivers to go to my warehouse and pick up my spices before they’re consumed in the fire. If I’m late, it will be the ruin of us.”

“I’ll go with you,” said Bethenny. “Have you thought where you’d store them?”

“I haven’t got that far yet. Right now, I need three drivers.”

“What about Tom? And I could ask Charlie.”

“I couldn’t ask for a son or daughter better than you.” He kissed her cheek. “I don’t know where you get your common sense from. Certainly not from your mother or me.”

Nathaniel left and hired four teams. “What do you want them for?”

said the owner of the stable.

“I need them to move my things to the country.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. It’ll never get this far.”

“I am a cautious man. Just have them ready for me in the morning.”

Thomasine and Charlie turned up at dinner time. “The fire is getting worse, and I’m worried about leaving Thomasine alone.”

“She’s always welcome with me, starting now,” said Bethenny.

“And we also need help,” said Nathaniel. “I need someone to drive a team to my warehouse on the waterfront, pack the wagons with my spices and bring them here.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow morning at six o’clock. You might as well stay here with us. “There will be three others: Myself, Tom and Bethenny.”

“Are you sure about Bethenny? I’ve come through it, and it’s a nightmare. Hannah will stay behind to look after Mercy and Thomasine.”

“They’re holding an emergency meeting to deal with the fire later in the afternoon. I need to be back in time for that,” added Charlie.

“Understood. Have you considered what will happen if the fire reaches here?”

“Not yet. It all depends on what I hear. What are your plans?”

“We’ll head out into the country. The horses are already hitched to the wagons. When we return, Mercy and Hannah and Thomasine will seek out a place to stay in the country.”

They were up and ready to go by 6.30. Hannah had breakfast waiting for them in the dining room. She also passed each of them lunch as they descended the stairs and out into the wagons.

“When can I expect you back?” yelled the stable owner after them.

“Late afternoon,” Nathaniel shouted back. He boarded his wagon and proceeded out of the yard, followed by Tom, Bethenny and Charlie.

Fifteen minutes later, they encountered a steady stream of people, forcing them to take the side streets. The smoke was getting thicker, and Bethenny dipped her handkerchief into some water from the lunch Hannah had packed and put it over her mouth. Nathaniel looked back to see if everyone was still with him.

They headed down Hamstead until they got to River Street, where they turned right and headed for the riverfront. Firebombs from exploding homes nearby flew in an arc, landing into the river and on the coaches

carrying families out of the area. Crowds gathered at the piers, many holding up bags of coins for a chance to board boats still docked and taking on people who could afford it.

The smoke made Bethenny gasp for air. Her eyes were burning, and occasionally, she could smell burning flesh in the breeze. People tried to climb aboard her wagon, forcing her to use her whip to beat them off. This is what hell must be like, she thought, driving through the black smoke that came out of nowhere.

An hour later, they could see the roof of Nathaniel’s new warehouse just up ahead. The roof has caught fire as they entered the front entrance. Nathaniel unlocked the door and waved them inside. “We’re just in time, but we’ll need to hurry.”

He led the way to where the spices were stored. The roof dripped bits of fire. Tom looked at it and shook his head.

“We’ll set up a receiving line to get the spices out and be on our way.

“I’ll stay with the spices and pass them to Tom, who will take them to Charlie. He’ll take them outside, where Bethenny will pack them on the wagons and keep watch for thieves.”

Tom was ready to collapse, and Bethenny traded places with him. She could feel the sweat run down her back. It soaked her blouse and made it stick to her back. The fire was getting worse, and the heat from it was becoming unbearable. She wiped her forehead and could taste the sweat that ran down the side of her face. She didn’t know how much longer she could carry on. Nathaniel was starting to weaken, and he could see he was slowing down. One row left. Her father stopped for a minute to get his strength back before going back at it with renewed strength.

Thirty minutes later, they were sitting in their wagons and ready to go, waiting for Nathaniel, who had gone into his office for his papers. The roof suddenly collapsed and crashed to the floor, sending firebombs inside. Tom left his wagon and entered the building, now aflame, spotting Nathaniel, dazed and staggering in the smoke. Tom ran to Nathaniel, put his arm around him and led him out. Tom reached into his jacket pocket, produced a bottle of Brandy, and fed it to him in small sips. Charlie came and helped Nathaniel mount his wagon.

“Tom, you lead the way,” said Charlie. “You’ve been here a hundred times. Lead us out to safety. Nathaniel can follow you, and I’ll keep the rear.”

The way back was even more hazardous. Firebombs were exploding everywhere. The heat from the fire made Bethenny feel her arms would burn. She instinctively sprinkled some water over her arms and pulled

down the sleeves of her blouse. Father in Heaven, she prayed, lead us to your safety.

The street was a madhouse. Panic gripped everyone as women, carrying children; and men with older relatives; beggars, crying for mercy; and evil-looking men with knives in their belts clogged the streets. The noise of excited voices drowned out her voice. She had never seen anything like it, even in her worst nightmares, and shook all over. She plowed ahead, feeling there was no end to it.

She thought of Jeremy. Where are you now, she thought, now that I need you so much?

Eventually, the crowds started to thin out as they moved onto Hamstead. She began to breathe more comfortably and could feel her body relax for the first time. She looked back at Charlie, who smiled and waved to her.

An hour later, they unpacked their wagons in silence, using the same system as they did to load them but without the rush or the anxiety that followed them into the warehouse. When it was all over, they sat back in the receiving room, where Thomasine and Hannah brought them trays of ale.

Charlie stood and brushed his clothes with his hands. “I smell all over of smoke. I think I’d better wash and get ready to go. I can’t miss my first day at Parliament. I’ll be sitting at the Treasury Bench, right there with all the big wigs.”

“If you need one of the wagons to get there, it’s yours. We can take them back tomorrow.

Nathaniel called them all together after dinner. They were sitting in the receiving room, and he was sitting in his favourite chair. “After experiencing the horrors we saw at the waterfront today, I’ve made a decision. We need to think about leaving here and find a place to stay in the country before the fire reaches us.”

“Not again,” said Bethenny. “Besides, Thomasine is here.”

Nathaniel wasn’t finished. “In the meantime, we need to do several things before we take leave. First, I need to hide my strongbox. We can’t take it with us, and I don’t want to leave it around for thieves.”

He waited until dusk and went out into the backyard and dug a deep hole. The strongbox was a lot heavier than he remembered, and he enlisted Tom’s help to carry it out and put it into the hole. He replaced the earth and then the original sod over it.

Bethenny and Thomasine went to the roof. The red glow had grown brighter, and the air had an acrid taste and smell. Bits of ash floated in the

air, clinging to their hair.

Thomasine laughed. “You look grey.”

“After today, I feel it.”

When they returned, Bethenny found her father sitting on his chair, sweating and breathing hard. “I can’t do what I used to.”

Bethenny took his shoes off and made lay back. She looked up at Hannah, who returned with a glass of Brandy. “It will make you feel better.”

Later, when the colour returned to his face, and he was breathing more comfortably, he smiled at them. “I know you and Thomasine went to the roof to check on the fire. How does it look?”

“I think it’s getting worse. In fact, much worse.”

“Then we should start packing what we need to wear for a week or two and arrange for a coach to take us to the countryside. We’ll check it tomorrow and see what happens then.”

Chapter Forty-One

Charlie returned with news about the fire. “The King wants to blow up some houses to create a fire break, but the City of London won’t do anything about it. They’re worried about the liability, so everything is at a standstill.”

Nathaniel just shook his head. “They need a new council that’s prepared to act in times of emergency. Wait until the next election.”

Tom appeared at the head of the stairs, followed by Matthew Talbot. ”I’m on my way to Burford. I have my coach. May I be of assistance? I’m leaving on the insistence of my father’s advisors, who have told my father that the fire shows no signs of ever coming under control. Barring divine intervention, the fire is likely to consume all of London before it burns itself out.”

He kept looking at Bethenny, who pretended she didn’t notice.

“We’ve arrived at the same conclusion, Matthew, but we have plans to move to the countryside, outside London, to wait everything out there. Thank you, Matthew, and your good father, for thinking of us in our hour of need.

Mercy suddenly brightened. “We don’t see our friends or about upcoming events at Court anymore.”

Bethenny tried to talk about the fire, but Mercy looked at her as though she didn’t understand. When Matthew left, Thomasine touched her arm. “Charlie would like to talk to you before you go to bed.”

Her father went to bed shortly after. Charlie waited until everyone had gone to sleep. “I have news, Bethenny. Thomasine thinks you deserve to know. I always wondered who laid the charge of witchcraft against you. I pulled a few strings with one of my fellow MPs and found out it was your good friend, Matthew Talbot.”

“I’m not surprised. It was always in the back of my mind, but I could not prove it. I’m not sure why Matthew did it, other than trying to worm his way into our confidence. When he suddenly showed up so conveniently that day in court, I had some doubts.”

“Now that you know for sure, what do you plan to do about it?” said Thomasine.

“Nothing. It would only hurt my father and Matthew’s father and not change anything. I’ll save it when it will do the most good. Should I marry someone else, it will be a good card to play should he try something else to get even.”

“You’re a wise lady, Bethenny. The man who gets you will be fortunate.”

Later, when they were by themselves, they talked about Jeremy.

“I haven’t heard a word from him since the day he visited us and talked to my father. When I was in the wagon at the waterfront, I thought about him, and I knew I needed him in my life. Not just then but forever.”

It was still dark when Hannah woke her in the morning. Even from her small bedroom window, Bethenny could see the orange glow in the sky.

“It’s getting very close, mistress.”

“What about my father?”

“He’s already at breakfast.”

Bethenny dressed and went downstairs, sitting opposite her father.

“I’m worried about your mother,” he said without looking up. “She’s living in some kind of fantasy world now. I’m not sure how she’ll survive another move.”

“She just needs our understanding.”

“Hannah is concerned about you and did not want to burden you with this now.”

In the afternoon, he asked Hannah and Tom to get everything ready if they had to leave in a hurry.

Jeremy Middleton appeared later that day, looking tired and limping. “I was in the neighbourhood and hoped you and your family were well, and if I could be of service.”

“You’re welcome,” said Bethenny in a loud voice as she glanced at her father. Thomasine poked Charlie and put a finger to her lips. “I see you are limping. What happened?”

“I’ve spent much of the day helping people trapped by the fire and hurt it helping a family. The waterfront was a nightmare, with people scrambling to find passage on small boats and anything that floated that would take them out of there. Firebombs exploded in the air everywhere. Some of them crashed into the sails of the boats and sank them. Even in these small boats, it was standing room only, with many of them upsetting and throwing people into the water. You could see their bodies floating in the river.”

He was talking in short, staccato breaths and suddenly fell to the floor. Nathaniel and Charlie lifted him to a nearby settee. His chin dropped to his chest, and he went to sleep. He woke a few minutes later and tried to raise himself. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re exhausted. Rest a bit. You’ve done your share. You’ll die otherwise. May we offer you a bed for the evening, young man?” said Nathaniel.

Bethenny held her breath. Jeremy sat up. “Thank you, Mr. Hadley. Ordinarily, I would be delighted, but now I am needed to help those unable to escape on their own. And Brutus, my dog, is waiting for me outside.”

Nathaniel listened to him carefully. “And your family, Mr. Middleton?”

“My father has an estate in Kent and well out of the tragedies that seem to befall London.”

“He has brought you up well.”

“Not to hear him talk.”

“We are getting ready to move to the country and out of danger. Why not come with us?”

Bethenny shook her head in disbelief. She glanced at Thomasine, who shrugged and smiled.

Jeremy rose. “I’ve intruded on your hospitality longer than I should have, Mr. Hadley. Duty calls. Besides, I have Brutus, a great hulk of an animal, to protect me. ”

“At least have a Brandy with me. It’s a great pick-me-up, and I think you could do with a bit of that right now.”

Bethenny broke in before he could answer. “I’d like to introduce you to my best friend, Thomasine and her husband, Charlie Marlowe. He’s an MP and an assistant to Sir Edward Hyde.”

Charlie stood and extended his hand. “I’ve seen you before, Mr. Middleton. I just don’t know where. In any event, we are all in awe of someone prepared to risk his life to save others. I hope we shall meet again.”

Jeremy left a few minutes later. Bethenny escorted him downstairs and kissed him as he opened the door. The energy of the room went with him. ***

Nathaniel accompanied Bethenny to the roof to check on the advance of the fire. The billowing smoke made her cough and burned her eyes. “It’s getting too close,” said Nathaniel, “and time for us to go.”

Tom left to find a coach to take them to the country and safety.

“Someone has to stay behind to look after the house,” she said. “There will be a lot of looters in the wake of this. If I don’t stay, who knows what will happen? All I need is Tom with me, and I’ll be all right, and so will the house.”

“I also plan to stay,” said Charlie. “I wouldn’t be much of an MP if I deserted my constituents when they most need help. I would appreciate it if Thomasine could leave with you and Hannah. If she’s with you, I know she will be looked after.”

Tears formed in Thomasine’s eyes. Bethenny put her arms around her. “He’s right. You have to think of your baby.”

Hannah told Mercy they were going for a ride in the country and wrapped her face and nose in her scarf. Mercy tried to resist by moving her head back and forth. “It’s cold, and we don’t want you to get sick.” Hannah guided her downstairs and into the waiting coach, where Charlie helped Thomasine get aboard. Mercy fell to sleep almost immediately. Nathaniel sat beside her and drummed his fingers on the edge of his seat until the coach started to move.

Charlie left and didn’t return until past dinner. His clothes reeked of smoke, and his hair was singed. “I’m not hungry. Had a big lunch, and right now, I just want to wash and go to sleep.”

“What about the fire?”

“It’s advancing but at a slower rate,” he said as he disappeared to the second floor. Tomorrow will tell the tale.”

Charlie also noted that he thought it wiser to find a safe place near the government offices if he were needed suddenly.

Another runner arrived the following day with news about Jeremy, “Your friend has asked me to give this to you. He has been badly injured when a wall collapsed on him. Here is what he wrote: I need help. Hurt badly. Need a doctor for me and the three others, who were severely burned.

Bethenny packed a small bag of oils and bandages and headed out with the young woman, who identified herself as Gwen. “Is he related to you, or are you his wife?”

“Old friends.”

Gwen looked at her. “I think more.”

Bethenny could feel her cheeks burn and looked ahead. “He helped my parents and me at the time of the Black Plague. How much further?”

Gwen’s hair was dark brown and hung in strings around her oval face. “Not much further.” They had been walking for more than an hour. “The fire is spreading in all directions. We may have trouble getting through.”

Bethenny looked at the piles of rubble, still smoking, on each side of the road. She rubbed her eyes and covered her nose against the odour of ashes and burnt flesh.

They reached Jeremy an hour later, trapped under a large charred rafter. His leg was severely burned, and unable to move. Bethenny bent down. “We need to get that rafter off you. It may hurt.”

Jeremy closed his eyes. “Do what you have to do, but in the name of God, do so quickly.”

She stood and told Gwen to find someone to help her lift the rafter off him and gave her a shilling. Gwen returned with a middle-aged man with a bent back, muscular, solid arms and black and grey stubble on his face.

“What’s in it for me?”

The wind had picked up. Bethenny’s focus now was on Jeremy, and she didn’t notice the wind had blown ashes into the room and had set fire to the curtains. “I have a shilling. I have nothing more.”

“Let me see the money first.”

He bent down and crawled under the rafter. He then lifted it for a few seconds as Bethenny pulled Jeremy free. He was coughing and closed his eyes in pain. His clothes were covered in ashes, some of them still warm, and she brushed them off with her hand.

“We need to get him to a place where he can be treated.”

“There’s a house down the street that’s only partially burnt,” said Gwen.

“We’ll need something to drag him there,” said Bethenny.

Gwen left and returned a couple of minutes later with a heavy blanket. They managed to roll him onto the blanket and drag him down the street to the only house that was still standing. They were both exhausted after they lifted him over the doorstep and laid him in the middle of the room.

The smell of smoke and ashes smothered Bethenny, and she started coughing violently. “There’s acid in the ashes. We need to get him water. Otherwise, he’ll die of dehydration.”

Bethenny looked around. Gwen had disappeared, and Bethenny rose slowly. The curtains had caught fire, and she pulled them down and stomped on the flames. Bethenny then went into the kitchen and pumped until she had a whole bucket of water. She poured most of it over the curtains and fed some to Jeremy, who had a hard time swallowing.

Bethenny knew she had to get him back to her home, or he would die. She was alone now and that it would be almost impossible to find a coach or carriage. Jeremy woke and groaned as he reached down and felt his leg. The pain was unremitting. He looked up and tried to smile. She touched his face, and he closed his eyes. When he woke, he saw the worry in her face and tried to reach out for her.

“I need to haul you out of here and try to get you home, where we can look after you properly. So grab onto the sides of the blanket and hold on no matter what.”

She grabbed the blanket in both hands. It took all her strength, and she paused at the doorway. We need to get you over the doorstep, and it’s going to hurt.”

He nodded and tried to smile. “The faster we do it, the faster it will be over.”

He grimaced, and his face went grey as he bumped his right arm on the other side of the doorstep. “Now, let’s get started and forget about me and any pain I may encounter along the way.”

At the end of the street, three men approached her. “Can we help you, miss?”

She pointed to Jeremy. “His leg is badly burned, and he needs help, or he will die. It’s the only way we can get him to the doctor.”

One of them grabbed and held her while the other two went through Jeremy’s pockets and then hers. The man holding her ripped open her bodice. He failed to notice the dog on the other side of the street. It leaped towards them and bit deeply into the ankles of the man who was holding her. He released her at once, sitting down and crying with the pain. The dog’s mouth was dripping drool as he leaped at the other others. They tried

to beat him off with sticks, but it failed to stop the dog from jumping on them and biting deeply into their throats.

Bethenny pulled Jeremy away from them. The dog walked beside her and licked her hands. When she could go no further, she sat down, and the dog lay down beside Jeremy, and he put his head on Jeremy’s chest.

“It’s my dog, Brutus. He will protect us the rest of the way.”

Bethenny looked up just as the wall of the house beside them burst into flame. She rose and managed to drag him away when the wall collapsed. She tripped and fell. The debris from the wall engulfed them as it shuddered and broke into flaming pieces.

She covered his body with hers. Her hair caught fire, and he reached up and patted it out in his hands. “We need to get out of here, and I do not know I have the strength to do it.”

He moved his head back and forth. “You’re by yourself. I thought – “

She forced herself up in time to see two figures walking towards them.

“What’s wrong?”

“I hope not more trouble.”

Bethenny braced herself as they drew near. She glanced at Brutus, who was licking Jeremy’s face.

The two figures quickened their pace, and in the last few yards, broke into a run, yelling and waving to her. It was Gwen and a young man.

“I went to find my brother but couldn’t find him immediately. I knew we would not be able to drag him all the way.”

“I didn’t know what to expect.”

Gwen didn’t respond but pointed to the blanket. Her brother nodded and picked up the other side of the blanket, and they started walking at a much faster pace.

“What is your name?” Bethenny said to Gwen’s brother.

“Enoch.”

“You don’t talk much. Why did you come back?”

“Your friend rescued my father from certain death. My father was trapped in the cellar of an old deserted building, where we were living for the past four months. The building went up in flames. Your friend suddenly appeared and saw what was happening. He wrapped himself into a blanket, and then we poured water all over him. Before we knew it, he found a path through the fire, wrapped the blanket around my father and carried him to safety. In the process, he was badly burned.”

Gwen looked down at Jeremy and shook her head. “He has burns on his face and his arms and legs.” She paused. “We’re here for him now.”

“Thank you, Gwen and Enoch. Your help is sorely needed and will not

be forgotten.”

“Is he your husband?”

“Not yet. But we will be soon.”

Gwen looked at his burned face and looked away.

An hour later, they stopped to rest. “We’ll take him to my home. It’s less than an hour from here. I’ll be able to get a doctor for him there.”

It took longer than she thought. Enoch’s hands were bruised and blistered, and he kept changing hands and blowing on them.

When they finally stopped, Gwen and her brother sat down next to Jeremy. Their faces were dirty, and Gwen’s hair was singed. She examined her brother’s hands and tried to soothe them in hers.

Bethenny pounded on the door until Tom opened it. She could hear him talking to himself as he approached the door.

“Thank God you’re here, Mistress Bethenny. Your father told me to tell you that you and I are to leave and join him when the fire reaches us.”

Bethenny and Enoch carried Jeremy upstairs and placed him on the settee in receiving room. Gwen and her brother bowed and turned to leave when Bethenny stopped them.

“You’re not going to leave here without a chance to clean up from the fire and until you’ve had dinner. You are our honoured guests.” Gwen disappeared first. Bethenny knocked on the door and brought Gwen her special soap for her body and hair. When she emerged 30 minutes later, Bethenny couldn’t believe the transformation. “You’re a lovely young lady, Gwen.”

“You truly think so?”

Bethenny nodded and led her into her bedroom. ”We’re about the same size. Choose one to wear for dinner and another when you leave.”

“Are you serious? I told you, Enoch and I owe your friend the life of our father. “

“I’m dead serious. And be sure to find another petticoat you like to take with you when you leave.”

***

Dr. Armour spent 15 minutes bent over Jeremy. He did not have an encouraging look on his face when he stood. “I don’t need to tell you he has been burned very badly. It will take a long time for him to heal, and he will need a lot of care. I am anxious about his face. I’ll come back later with a special salve that has proved effective in cases like this.”

Dr. Armour’s face looked tired. His grey mustache drooped, and his blue eyes were washed out. He moved in quick, jerky movements. He was

a tall, thin man dressed in a black suit with long hair tied at the back. He felt into his bag and found a small bottle of laudanum. “When he wakes, he will be in great pain and will need it. Of course, you know all about it,” he added, trying to smile.

Gwen and her brother left with him. Bethenny looked at Jeremy’s face. It didn’t matter how he looked, and she knew then she would always love him. Tom came up from the cellar to keep her company.

Dr. Armour returned at dusk. “Just to let you know, the fire’s getting worse and heading this way. You should think about leaving soon,” he said as he applied the salve to Jeremy’s face, arms and legs. “I’ll come by in the morning and treat him again.”

She tossed and turned all night, waking to check on Jeremy. In the morning, she went up to the roof with Tom. The fire had advanced during the night and was much closer now. She knew then he would never survive another big move. For the first time, she didn’t know what to do.

Probably the best place, she thought, was outside in the backyard, away from the fire. She went downstairs and inspected her father’s store of spices. Her father had stacked them against the foundation and covered them with lumber and steel sheets he always kept for emergencies. Several other sheets leaned against the far wall. She called for Tom and had him make frames for the exposed end and front of the spice pile and then have him nail the steel sheets to cover them.

She thought of her father digging a hole in the backyard where he had hidden his strongbox but decided to build a steel sheet-clad shelter near the end of their property. She talked to Tom about it. He left her to go to the cellar and carry out several boards and returned to carry out the steel sheets one at a time.

In the distance, Bethenny could hear explosions. She returned to the house to make lunch for them and saw that the laudanum was wearing off. There was no more left. She remembered Dr. Armour’s quip about knowing all about it and went to the cellar and returned with two bottles of Brandy. She fed it to Jeremy in spoonfuls. A few minutes later, he closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Bethenny looked out the window. Tom had dug a large hole and built a shelter, cladding it with the steel sheets. She went out to test it, entering and sitting on the wooden planks he had placed on the ground. She crawled out and gave it another check from all sides. It looked safe from the fire. “One thing, Mistress Bethenny. It will be very, very hot in there for a few hours. To be on the safe side, we’ll need extra water.”

After dinner, she and Tom went up to the roof to get a better view.

The fire was only a couple of streets away. Bits of ash irritated her eyes and made it hard for her to see. The ash tasted bitter and made it hard to swallow. Firebombs lit the sky and were heading their way. The smell of smoke and ash clung to her clothes.

She debated whether to move Jeremy now to the backyard or let him get a good night’s sleep and move him later. In the morning, he might be feeling a bit better. Back in the receiving room, she looked at his face, now calm in sleep, and decided to chance another night in the house.

Bethenny woke to the smell of smoke. It was in the house now, and she started coughing. She looked out her narrow bedroom window. The fire was eating into the roof of the building across the street. She knew then it was only a matter of minutes before the embers from across the street would ignite their roof.

She went to the stairs and called for Tom. He had been outside and closed the door.

“It’s terrible, Mistress Bethenny. “

“It’s time to move him, Tom. He’s badly burned and has a broken leg, so that it won’t be easy.”

He watched Bethenny apply Dr. Amour’s salve to Jeremy’s face and legs. His arms had also been burned, and she applied the ointment to them as well. She was breathing quickly now without realizing it and felt weak to her stomach.

She went to her bedroom, took the blanket off her bed, and brought it to the receiving room. They lifted Jeremy off the settee and onto the blanket. Jeremy was heavy, even with Tom taking most of the load. The biggest problem was the stairs. Tom went first, holding onto the blanket above his head as he took each step gingerly until he reached the floor, where they carried him out of the house and placed him in the shelter. Tom then shovelled a lot of earth up against the wall and roof exposed to her home.

He left to bring two buckets of water and returned to pick up the food she had prepared in advance and two bottles of Brandy.

Jeremy stirred again, moaning as he tried to move his burned leg. He touched his hand to his face and winced. Bethenny offered him some cheese, but he shook his head. He licked his blistered lips, and she helped him sip water from a wooden spoon.

“We are in a steel-clad shelter away from any buildings. The fire is near at hand.”

She wet a cloth in the water from one of the buckets and dabbed his blisters before applying the salve and feeding him some more Brandy.

Bethenny crawled outside. The roof of their home was in flames. She began coughing and closed the steel flap as she bent down to get inside. She sat beside him and began to pray.

Chapter Forty-Two

Bethenny opened her eyes. There were voices outside that set her heart was beating wildly. She had no idea who they were, and Brutus was nowhere in sight. Her hand shook as she opened the flap.

A face smiled at her. It was a young fireman. “The danger is over. Aside from the roof at the front of your home, your house escaped the worst of the fire. Congratulations.” He looked at Jeremy. “What happened to him?”

“He was burned badly saving an old man in the cellar of a burning house. I would be indebted to you if you would help me bring his back to the house and had our doctor mend his burns.”

He nodded to three of his men. “As firefighters, we’re used to this kind of thing.”

“How did you know we were here?”

“Tom told us. He’s an old friend of ours.”

The firemen took two poles, slid them inside a piece of heavy cloth, and carried Jeremy into the house, up the stairs and to her bed.

She looked at his face. It was clear that Jeremy’s condition had worsened. He winced in his sleep whenever he moved.

***

Nathaniel and Hannah returned home a week later. Everything in the house, the settees, bed coverings, curtains, even the two chairs in the receiving room smelled of smoke. It was worse upstairs, where Bethenny could hear the wind blow through the attic, where much of the frame lumber was charred.

The first thing Nathaniel did was check his strongbox. “I gather you weathered the storm in that shelter,” he said, looking out the window.

“Tom was the architect. I don’t know what would have happened if he had not stayed behind to look after me.” She paused. “I couldn’t leave Jeremy. He was burned badly, saving an old man trapped in the cellar of a

burning house.”

“How long has he been here?” Nathaniel’s voice suddenly hardened.

Bethenny took a deep breath and held at her father in her gaze. “Before you jump to conclusions, I would urge you to spend five minutes with him.”

“He seems to make my home his personal inn,” he said, following her to her bedroom, where she found Jeremy breathing hard and twisting in pain. Bethenny sat down beside Jeremy and helped him drink spoonfuls of Brandy. She applied Dr. Armour’s special salve to the blisters on his face.

Nathaniel, who was bending over him, set his mouth. “I hate to tell you this, Bethenny, but I doubt he will last the week. His eyes are those of a dead man.”

She burst into tears. Nathaniel put his arms around her. “I’m genuinely sorry, Bethenny. I did not want this to happen to you. He is a good man, and I regret I did not understand that when it mattered.”

He examined Jeremy’s face carefully. Hannah, who had been standing behind him, began to cry. Nathaniel put his arms around both of them. He released them and looked at Jeremy again. “I’ll ask Tom to find Dr. Armour and bring him here at once. Maybe his arts can save him.”

Tom arrived back just before dinner. “Dr. Armour will be here soon.”

Nathaniel picked at his dinner. He had something else he dreaded telling her. “As you may have gathered, your mother did not come back with us. She never really got over the plague and the death of your aunt. It got much worse with the advent of the fire.”

He looked as though he were going to cry. When he started again, it was with a softer voice. “Before we came back, your mother’s mind went blank. And all she could talk about was her mother and father and our early years together. It kept getting worse. I took her to a doctor who specializes in this ailment. He told me she needs to be in a special place where they understand what is happening to her and help her deal with it on a 24-hour basis.”

His face looked broken, and he looked away.

Bethenny was also finding it hard to deal with it. “Do you think she will be lonely?”

He shook his head. “Your mother didn’t know who I was the day I left. We will visit her next week. “Don’t be surprised if she does not know who you are.” He scanned her face. “Life goes on, with us or without us.”

They mounted the stairs to the second floor. The ceilings of all the rooms had turned brown, and pieces of plaster had fallen, splattering over the floor. Nathaniel took a broom to touch the ceilings, sending large slabs

of ceiling material to the floor with a deadly thud. The canopy above her bed drooped with pieces of plaster. We’ll deal with this later,” he added, hearing Jeremy moan.

Bethenny could hardly breathe. Dust clogged her nostrils and stuck in her mouth. She could taste the smoke even in the plaster and left to find some water to rinse her mouth.

On his return, Nathaniel left to find Tom and a ladder to examine the extent of the damage in the attic. “It’s worse than I thought it was,” he said, climbing down the ladder. “That whole section will have to be replaced. But at least we have a roof over our heads for the time being. We may have to wait. Builders and building supplies will be in short supply for quite a while, I suspect.”

Hannah made his favourite meal and had his slippers ready in the receiving room to sit beside the fireplace and sip a Brandy or two and smoke his pipe. Bethenny went to see him but backed away. It was clear he was in deep thought.

The following day, Nathaniel had recovered and had a smile on his face. “I want to apologize to you and Hannah. Yesterday knocked me flat on my back, but I’m standing up now. I’ll make my own destiny, thank you, and not let anything stand in the way. I’ve sent a runner to Charlie and dispatched Tom to go to the coach station with a letter to Harvey Archer. I’ll get to that later.”

Hannah sat down next to Bethenny. She had a smile on her face and sensed there was something more.

“I also sent a letter to my cousin, Ben, asking him to put together a team of building craftsmen as well as enough building supplies to repair our house and build one for Thomasine and Charlie.”

Bethenny felt real hope for the first time in days. “How can we help?”

“I’ve also decided to bring your mother back home.” He turned to Hannah. “You and I will set out tomorrow and return in the evening with my Mercy. She will need the special comfort of your touch. Are you up for it?”

Thomasine and Charlie joined them shortly after lunch the following day. Nathaniel had gone to the waterfront with Tom to inspect the damage to his warehouse. All that remained was a charred skeleton of his building. Fires were still burning in different areas of the warehouse and a number of buildings nearby. No one was spared. Nathaniel ordered the coach driver to take the riverside road back to give them a good view of the waterfront, with ideas dancing in his head for a new warehouse.

Charlie was waiting for him. “You were lucky,” he said, looking around

at all the rooms. “Not so much upstairs and the attic area, but, like you, we still have a roof over our heads, and for that, we are truly thankful.”

“You’re about to have more than that. It sent a messenger with a letter to your father-in-law saying there are spaces aplenty after the fire and for him to come down and oversee the building of your home.”

“I know for a fact that builders and building supplies will be in short supply,” Charlie said.

“Yes and no. This morning, I also dispatched a letter to my cousin, Ben, in Burford, asking him to put together a crew of building craftsmen and enough building supplies to replace the damage to my house and to build yours.”

“You’re the only ray of good news I’ve heard since the fire broke out. At the moment, the House of Commons is not sitting, and there is no word when it will resume.”

Mercy sat in a rocking chair next to the window, singing a melody no one understood. Nathaniel looked at her and smiled.

Thomasine was hungry and whispered to Hannah, who quietly disappeared and returned 20 minutes later to invite Thomasine to the kitchen to sample sweetened apple slices floating in whipped cream.

The house felt cold somehow when Thomasine and Charlie left. Mercy was dozing, with her chin on her chest.

Bethenny spent the rest of the day dabbing salve on the blisters on Jeremy’s face and helping him swallow Brandy out of a glass. He spent most of the day sleeping. Dr. Armour appeared just after noon and checked his face and legs.

She stayed with him after the doctor left and studied his face carefully. In some ways, he looked more handsome to her than he did when she first met him with a patch over his eye.

She bent down and whispered in his ear so he could hear her words. “I think your parents should be made aware that you have been injured and may need many months to recover.”

“I don’t want them to worry about me,” he whispered.

“You might not be able to travel for months. If they don’t hear from you soon, they’ll start to worry and won’t know what to do or find you.”

He winced as he tried to smile.

“I will send a letter to your father, telling him you have been burned in the fire, where he can find you, and that he would be welcome to stay with you with us if you are not able to move.”

“Sir George Middleton, Margate, Kent,” he whispered.

***

Two days later, a messenger arrived with a letter from Ben, stating he expected to reach London in a week with a building crew and enough building supplies to build ten houses. He added that they would be open to building homes for other people. This would be after they had finished their house and Charlie’s.

Nathaniel spent the rest of the morning in the cellar, cataloguing his supply of spices. “Who built the box around them?”

“Mistress Bethenny ordered me to do it. I hope I did right.”

“You did more than right, Tom. You saved this family.”

Dr. Armour arrived in time for breakfast with a new bottle of laudanum and more of his salve. “Let me see if it’s working.” He bent over Jeremy and examined his arms and legs. He shook his head as he studied Jeremy’s face.

“Hardly slept a wink worrying about him.” He bent over him and spent most of the time examining Jeremy’s facial blisters and putting his ear to Jeremy’s chest. When he raised his head, his look was not encouraging.

Jeremy opened his eyes and tried to smile. She ran her fingers through his hair. “It needs washing.” He just smiled. “I’m so tired. I fear if I doze off, I will never wake up again.”

He closed his eyes and opened them again. “I love you,” he said in a faint voice.

She kissed him on the forehead. His blistered lips opened. She touched them with hers and raised her head. It was only then that she realized he was no longer breathing. She wanted to cry but knew she had things to do and felt cold inside.

Bethenny spent the rest of the day in a daze. Hannah sensed almost immediately what had happened and tried to comfort her. She put her hand in the pocket of her apron and felt something. It was a coin. She scrutinized it and couldn’t imagine how it got there. Then she remembered Dr. Stilwell. He had given it to her to help her find her way. She needed that more than anything now.

They didn’t talk much at dinner. It was only when Hannah entered with a plate of mince tarts and sat down that Nathaniel cleared his throat.

“I know this is going to be hard for you, Bethenny. We need to let Jeremy’s parents know that their son has died and would like us to know how they would like to handle his funeral. Be sure they know they are welcome to stay with us during their visit to London.”

“Fortunately, I was able to get his family’s address from him before he died. I will write the letter to them today so that we can send it to them by the morning coach.”

Nathaniel wondered what he could say or do to make her feel better.

JIM CARR

“I’ve been wondering why you haven’t been sketching or painting of late. Why don’t you sketch Jeremy, maybe one also for his parents, so that you will have it with you forever and look at it when he comes to mind.”

She brightened. Her father always had a knack for making her feel better. She left to find her paints and sketching pad and retired to her bedroom to sketch his face. It took the rest of the afternoon to get it right. Her father was right. It did make her feel better. She would use the sketch later to paint a portrait of him after to feel alive.

The letter to Jeremy’s parents took only a few minutes. She showed her father the sketch and, later, the letter to his parents.

That night she cried herself to sleep. She woke at three o’clock and thought about Josh and longed to hear his voice. She spied the portrait she had sketched of Jeremy and rolled it carefully. In the morning, she would have breakfast with Nathaniel and Hannah, and then she would paint herself back in her attic studio with its patched window, she thought, as she drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Forty-Three

Beth blinked and looked around her studio. She picked up a brush and added a touch to a picture she had been working on, showing light through a cabin window on the snow.

She was back. Back where she belonged. Beth was dressed in her grey painting smock covered with different colours. She looked out the window, still patched the way she remembered it, and smiled. The feeling of being at home washed over her.

Beth could feel her cheeks burn and her heart quicken as she opened the door and went downstairs. She went into the kitchen and looked out the window. Josh was chopping wood with his spaniel beside him. He was wearing the old red-and-black hunting jacket she had given him for Christmas eight years ago.

She looked into the freezer and spotted a pot roast, which she put on the counter next to the refrigerator. She thawed it out in the microwave before preparing it for the oven. It was Josh’s favourite meal.

When Beth looked out again, Josh had disappeared with his dog. She went to the upstairs window to see him walking into the woods with his rifle. She returned to the kitchen and saw that its pale green walls looked washed out for the first time. The white, patterned tile floor needed a good cleaning.

She sat down at the table and called Faith. “I’m back.”

“What happened?”

“Too many things to tell you over the phone. When I left my studio, I woke up in bed in London as a daughter of a rich spice merchant; was held up by a young highwayman on our way to Oxford to escape the plague. Then I had to go back to London to look after my aunt, who the plague had struck and come down with it myself. I was nursed back to health by the highwayman and lived through the Great Fire of London. I fell in love with my highwayman, who died saving the life of an older man who was trapped in the fire.

“That’s it?”

“Not quite.”

“I’m coming over. Put the coffee pot on.”

Beth had the coffee ready by the time Faith arrived with a plate of banana muffins. She pushed her hair back from her forehead. “I’m all ears.”

Beth took a mouthful of coffee and let it slide down her throat. After a year or so of drinking nothing but tea, she had forgotten how wonderful the taste of coffee was. “There was also the son of a rich landowner, who happened to be a boyhood of my father. My name in that world was Bethenny.”

“Close enough.” Faith had her elbows on the table and holding her chin in her hands. Beth could always hypnotize her.

“He wanted me to marry him, but I was in love with my highwayman, and no one else mattered. He went to every length, even accusing me of witchcraft, and made a big show of rescuing me from being burned at stake. Later, I was summoned by The Queen to plead his cause.”

“You met the Queen of England?”

Beth nodded. “And the King, too.”

She closed her eyes, glad not to worry anymore about being kidnapped by the likes of Carew. “My best friend was a young woman, called Thomasine, who was in love with a young man from a rich family. He loved her but chose someone else who was very rich. In the end, she married a poor lawyer who worshipped her in every way and who became an MP.”

She took another large mouthful of coffee and swirled it around in her mouth before swallowing it. She thought about Thomasine and wondered if she had a boy or a girl. “I will miss her. We had petticoats, what we called dresses today, made for us by Madam Stavia, who could create a dress you seemed to float in.”

Faith leaned forward. “Would you like to go back again?”

“I would like to know if Thomasine had a boy or a girl and if she had grandchildren, and if Roger Livingstone got what he deserved. Other than that? No. I’m not interested in going anywhere. This is my life, and it’s better than anything else I could dream of.”

Josh returned late in the afternoon. The pot roast was ready, and so were the potatoes and squash. She opened the oven door and spooned the juice all over the roast.

He opened the door and stood looking at her for a full minute before saying anything. “How as the trip?” he said in an uneven voice.

“Not as exciting as I had expected.” She cut the roast in even slices, put two large ones on his plate, and covered everything in gravy the way

he liked it.

He sat down, and she lit two candles. She looked at his face, his square jaw that drew him to her. And to the young man on the beach, and even Jeremy. She was so caught up in her adventure that she failed to make the connection.

“A special dinner. What’s the occasion?” Josh laughed.

“No, just my way of saying I’m glad to be back and having dinner with you.”

“You seem different. Your voice now has an accent.”

“I learned that the only life I want is the one I’m living now.”

“What happened?”

“Not something I could tell you in five minutes. A lot of bad things and few good ones. It was scary at times. I caught the plague and came through the Great Fire of London.”

Josh played with his fork and knife as he cut a portion off the roast slice. He unspooled a rolled-up paper on the end table. “What’s this?”

Bethenny wasn’t sure what to say. Josh rose and unfurled her drawing of Jeremy.

“Wherever you were, you must have missed me to draw a picture of me. It’s rather good.”

Then, without looking up: “We were never really apart. Not on the beach or at the King’s Court or nursing you when you had the plague.”

“I don’t understand –“

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Carr’s adventure with words began as a Latin grammar teacher for the first five years. He studied Latin for seven years. His Latin grammar for beginners is called Lingua Latina. He has a degree in Classics and English.

This was followed by a lengthy career in print journalism as a reporter, columnist and editor on two daily newspapers before leaving to become a communications specialist for several national and international corporations and institutions.

He returned to journalism in retirement and is associate editor of Spa Canada magazine and freelances for other publications. He writes a blog about Thai resorts and spas, which is featured on Spa Canada’s website.

His book on Thai resorts and their spas, called Spa Magic, includes outstanding resorts and hotels in Bangkok, Chiang Mai, Chiang Rai, Pattaya, Hua Hin, Koh Samui, Krabi and Phuket. It is currently being updated.

His four mystery novels – Gravediggers, Death Star, Abbot’s Moon and Rogues Retreat and his book of short stories, Betrayal, and his wartime romance, There’s Always Tomorrow, are available an ebook and as print books at Amazon, Kobo, Barnes and Noble and iBooks.