For a moment, he was afraid that Kate would appear as bruised and battered as Bridget had been. Jeffreys had claimed she was unharmed. Had explained the ‘misunderstanding’ that had caused his men to take Kate away. But he needed to see her. Needed to know she was unharmed.
When she entered the room, she moved right into his arms. “Sean, I’m sorry you had to worry. I am fine, I assure you. There was just a silly mistake.”
Sean was not in the mood to hear any justification for the treatment of his sister or his wife. He crushed her to his chest even as he castigated her. “How dare you defend the enemy?”
“He did me no harm. I’m not defending him, I’m telling you not to do anything foolish on my account.”
“What about my sister? They have terrorized her again.”
“I don’t think so--she gave the young man a bit more than a rap on the ribs--she stuck him.” She paused, comprehension dawning in her eyes. “What do you mean, terrorized her again?”
He cursed his own careless tongue. “You don’t understand.”
She stood away from him, her arms crossed and her expression forbidding. “Then make me. Tell me what it is about Bridget’s madness that you—and Jamie Jeffreys—have not yet told me. She wasn’t ill, was she?”
He didn’t want to tell her. “My sister is none of your concern.”
“No?” For a moment he thought she would accept the truth, and then she said softly, “She is if the child I might conceive could be tainted with madness.”
Tainted? His sister? He wouldn’t let her believe that. “Bridget was as sane as any woman until she was twelve.”
She waited for a moment, as if she thought he might go on, and then she prompted him. “So at twelve she just went mad? Overnight? I know it wasn’t an illness.”
“No.” He ground his teeth. “Something happened.”
She would not relent for a moment, although she seemed to realize that she was dragging up old, painful things. “What?”
“Jeffreys, that upstart Sassenach, had his men kidnap her.”
Appalled, she asked, “Kidnap her? As they did to me today?”
“Bridget was not so lucky as you, to be offered tea and protection.” He closed his eyes. She would have it all out of him, and then what?
“What do you mean?” She knew. He could hear it in her voice. Why would she make him say it?
“They did not treat her kindly—they thought her a threat to the boy. Fools.”
“What did they do?”
“She wouldn’t say.” He opened his eyes to glare at her. If she wanted the whole truth, she would have it. He hoped she choked on it, as he did. “She didn’t say anything the first few weeks she was back. But I can guess, can’t you? She came back bloodied and bruised and with the light out of her eyes like it would never come back. But at least she wasn’t hanged.”
“Surely he didn’t mean to hang her, a child of twelve? For what?”
“For trying to murder his boy. He would have, but the magistrate refused when the boy testified they’d only been playing, she’d not meant to hurt him. But Jeffreys didn’t believe the boy.”
“No.” She shook her head. “He doesn’t believe it now. But to hurt a child?”
“He claimed not to have known it was happening until too late. He claimed to have punished the men responsible, even though they had just been trying to defend his son from the wild Irish lass.”
“Perhaps he spoke truthfully.”
“A man doesn’t defend himself with the part of himself they used on her, Kate. He uses it to love a woman, or to hurt her. But never for his own defense.”
She didn’t argue with him about that, though her eyes were full of pain. “If you had brought the matter to the authorities…”
“So the world would know why my sister went mad? Isn’t it enough that I didn’t kill him?”
“You’d have hung.”
“I don’t mind a rope at my own throat.” There were days, in the beginning, when he wished he had. But what would have happened to Bridget then? “The first words she spoke were to ask me not to tell anyone.”
“How did she come to be there at the castle with the boy? Shouldn’t she have been in lessons with a governess at the very least?”
“Her governess had gone the week before. I hadn’t been able to pay her for six months.”
“And you?”
He knew he shouldn’t blame her. He’d made his choices and he’d thought them wise at the time. But still he said, “I was busy meeting the whims of a well-dowered lady.”
The whims of a well-dowered lady. Her. He had been courting her. No wonder he’d climbed into her bed that night. She felt guilt wash over her that she had put him through the ridiculous trials she had. She had made him play games when he had people to protect. “I’m sorry. How is she?”
“Angry that she could not protect you.”
“She said the fairies had meant her to have the book they argued over.” Kate knew it would be painful, but she had to ask one more question. “Did she push him?”
He looked at her a moment before answering, but she could see that he had grappled with the question himself. “He says no. She says no. But no one asked them before they averted her, beat her--and worse.”
“Was she-touched-before that?”
“She was a little wild, as any girls might be without a mother’s gentle hand.” He rejected her suggestion. “But she was gentle and never harmed a soul.”
“Do you think he only threatened her life because he was afraid of what you would say about him?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t know.”
“It wasn’t your concern.” He turned away from her, as if he couldn’t bear the sight of her. “Let’s go home.”
Kate wanted to hit him. To scream at him. It wasn’t her concern? If he had told her, she would never have invited the Jeffreys to dinner. Would never have allowed Bridget to take her to the castle, not even for a peaceful picnic. “You should have told me.”
He turned back. “Why would you have spit his fine English tea in his face then?”
“I didn’t know, Sean. He did not hurt me. He thought she meant to kill me and he just wanted to see me safely away from you while you were in such a foul temper. He was merely being overprotective.”
“Of my wife.”
She felt the fury sweep through her. How dare he speak of her as if he wanted her. “Why should you care? You’ve already decided you don’t want me. Haven’t you?”
“Come home, Kate.” He didn’t answer that question. “You’re more fortunate than Bridget—this time. But I don’t know if that will be true if you stay here any longer. Or don’t you trust me anymore? Don’t you trust my mad sister?”
It was a terrible thing to admit her own breach of faith. She could not bring herself to land the blow, so she said instead, “He knows that you have initiated the divorce, the news does not take long to travel. I’m certain they know in Boston—perhaps even Ros has heard in California.”
“None of their business.”
“Not even of mine, so the law says.”
“Doesn’t go down well, to have no say in your own life, now, does it?”
“No.”
“You’re my wife.”
“For how much longer? Perhaps I’m tired of being a wife only when you find it convenient.”
“Perhaps I should keep you.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would if I thought it would save my people. Since I don’t I think I’d rather turn you free and let you bedevil your own countrymen.”
The truth of his words were shining from his eyes and she could not doubt it any longer. Feeling the heart blow in her chest, she struggled not to let him see she couldn’t breathe.
She stood and stalked out without a word. She almost slammed a door, but stopped, suddenly filled with a clear, deep relief. It was over. She turned and made herself look at him. “Bridget says I’m to have a son—if I do, you’ll stay away from him.”
“He’ll be—” he started to protest.
She shook her head fiercely. “If you don’t stay away, I’ll swear he’s Niall’s.”
He shrugged. “The odds are slim that we would have created any child in this short time.”
“Nevertheless, since you don’t want me, you can’t have me. Ever. Nor any child I might have. If you are seen to set foot anywhere on our property, I will convince my brother and the duke to order you shot.”
For several days he expected Kate to return. He didn’t know why he would expect her to do such a thing. He himself wouldn’t have forgiven himself for what he’d said to her. But all he’d received was a terse note, telling him that she would be gone from Ireland as planned, would not put any obstacle to the divorce in his way, thanking him for his hospitality. He supposed it was irony, but he burned the note in the fireplace as soon as he’d read it, so he had no way to re-read the words again and reassure himself of that.
Bridget had been furious with him when he told her what he’d done. At first he thought she worried that he had left her vulnerable at the Jeffreys. But she had soon made clear that she accepted the explanation of why Jamie had interfered. She’d even seemed to think he’d had justification for his beliefs, but he didn’t ask her why. He didn’t want to know.
Just as he didn’t want to know that his sister believed she could see into the future. Believed that his wife’s ship would go down and that she must not be on it. He had turned back to his books, spent his days at the greenhouse, taken a quick cold supper in his rooms. Anything to avoid listening to the nonsense.
At least Niall and Connor were not back from Dublin yet and he did not have to deal with their angry reproaches, or his cousin’s jealous jibes. Would Niall have handled things differently? Would Kate have listened to him? Trusted him? After all, she certainly knew him better than she knew her own husband.
He’d have to speak to Bridget, he resolved. Explain that he and Kate were not meant to be. She’d understand if he explained it that way. But such explanations would be difficult to deliver until she had decided to forgive him. He hadn’t seen Bridget for two days. He expected she was mad at him for sending Kate away.
He realized he had not seen her maid either. “Douglas.”
The man appeared magically and quietly as always. “Fetch my sister, please. I need to speak with her.”
He knew it was an easier order to give than to carry out. His sister could be anywhere. But he did not suspect that she had left the abbey grounds. Until her maid was found bound in her room.
Douglas brought him the news, and the maid, still rubbing her wrists in relief at being untied. “Where is my sister?” He had wanted to tell her that with Kate gone, she was safe from ever having to see Jeffreys or hear his name again. But now he wondered if she was as mad as Jeffreys had said. Why else would she tie up a poor defenseless girl?
“She followed your lady, my lord.”
Followed Kate? His blood ran cold. “Followed her where?” To Jeffreys? Had she decided to wreak revenge upon the family? Why now? Did she truly believe he and Kate belonged together that strongly? Did she blame Jamie for separating them? He shook his head, realizing he had not understood his sister for a very long time.
The maid’s freckles grew prominent on her pale face as she grew even more pale. “We was riding by the castle and just talking and then she got a look in her eyes clear in the middle of a sentence of mine and took off for home. I found her packing a bag and tried to stop her. So she tied me up so I couldn’t call for help right away.” She looked at him somewhat reproachfully. “She didn’t think it would take you two days to find me.”
Bridget had reacted to something the maid had said. “What did you tell her?”
“That your lady had gone with the Jeffreys, that they were all to sail on the same ship together to London, so your lady wouldn’t be lonely on her trip home.”
Sean’s heart sank even as he made preparations to follow. Bridget was certain the ship was to go down. She’d told him so more than once, but he’d ignored her. What did she think she could do to stop it sailing? Or did she have some more nefarious plan in mind?
He looked up, meaning to order Douglas to get a bag packed for him, and a horse readied. But the man was gone, no doubt not wanting to waste any time waiting for Sean to realize what he needed done.
He looked at the trembling maid. “You must be hungry. Go get something to eat.”
“I didn’t mean to let her get away—“
“I’m not sure anyone can save Bridget from herself. I’m sure you did your best.” And now he would do his. It had never been good enough in the past, but he hoped that this time would be different.
He wondered what Kate would have advised him to do? Perhaps he’d ask her, if he ever saw her again.
Jeffreys had been kind to her. Kinder that he need be, but she thought he took some pleasure in the realization that he was hurting Sean by taking her back to London.
She watched the familiar countryside roll away through the windows of the Jeffrey’s well sprung carriage and reflected that she had learned a lot about marriage in her fortnight as a truly married woman. Most of all was that a man who didn’t want to be a husband made the whole thing impossible.
She thought, once or twice, about renting a carriage to take her back, just so that she could make absolutely certain that this was what he wanted. Foolish thought.
If he’d wanted something else, he’d known well enough where she was. He could have come and told her. Besides, she owed Sarah a swift journey home. The maid had been plain in her joy when Kate had told her they were indeed sailing home as originally planned.
The port city was bustling, but Kate could not wait to board the ship. She had spoken to the captain, who had assured her that the ship was sound and he had been sailing for thirty years without a mishap.
She had been afraid he might be offended at her inquiry, but he reassured her that she was not the first passenger to seek a little extra reassurance. She wondered if she were the first who sought the reassurance because her of a prediction from the fairies. But this was Ireland, so she thought not.
“So, are you satisfied that we will make it to London in one piece?” Jamie Jeffreys walked her back to the carriage with a smile on his lips.
“Completely.” At first she thought it was thoughts of fairies and predictions which made the woman who caught her eye remind her of Bridget. But then the woman turned and her heart nearly stopped. It was Bridget. She glanced full at them, and then turned and disappeared.
Kate detached herself from Jamie Jeffreys and Sarah with a quick wave of her hand. “Excuse me, I just thought of an errand that needs to be run.” She made her way through the crowd, ignoring the startled questions of both Sarah and Jamie, which quickly faded away in the noise of the docks.
She followed the cloaked woman, fear churning in her gut. What was Bridget doing here? She had a dreadful feeling she knew. The girl didn’t want them to get on the ship. And she was used to playing “tricks” on the English. What trick would she play now?
At last she caught sight of the girl entering a rackety building. One very much like the shed Sean had put fire to. Her heart beating hard in her chest, she came up behind the girl and asked sharply, “Bridget, what are you doing?”
Bridget turned quickly, but did not appear to be too startled to see Kate. “Delaying you and poking the English in the eye all at once.”
“Don’t.” Kate eyed the neat bundle of faggots and hay that would be easily ignited by the tinder box and oil soaked rags in Bridget’s hands.
“I couldn’t stop Jamie’s men from taking you, but I’m not going to let you die on the Daisy’s Pride.” She glanced away for a moment. “And I’m not going to let him die, either.”
“I’m not going to die. Jamie’s not going to die. We’ve spoken to the captain. The ship is sound, the weather is fine.” Kate wondered how to reason with a madwoman. “You can’t see the future. No one can.”
“Jamie says that, too.” Bridget frowned, but she appeared more sad than angry. “No one believes—but I know.”
“How will this stop the ship?” Kate again tried reasoning. Perhaps if they spoke long enough—
“This cargo is meant for the ship, if it burns, they’ll have to delay a week or so, and you’ll take another ship and be safe.”
“How do you know?” Kate expected her to say the fairies, but instead Bridget said quite lucidly, “I asked one of the deck hands what could happen to delay the ship.”
“Come with me. I’ll send a note to Sean and stay with you until he comes to take you safely home.”
For a moment Bridget seemed ready to accept. Then she shook her head. “Jamie will still go on the ship.”
“I’ll convince him to take passage on another ship.”
“He won’t listen. He’s stubborn, just like Sean.”
Stubborn. Just like Bridget. “He will. He doesn’t want you to get hurt.”
A flash of pain spasmed across Bridget’s face. “He doesn’t know how to protect me, anymore than Sean does.”
“No. We have to protect ourselves. And them as well.” Kate was struck by the truth of what she said, although she had spoken out of desperation.
“How can we, when they’re so stubborn?”
“I can refuse to let Sean drive me away.” Kate said.
“You can.” Bridget smiled. “And I can kidnap Jamie.”
Kate didn’t think the kidnapping idea was any more sound that the fire, but she wasn’t going to say so now. “Good. Give me those, then and let’s go protect ourselves for a change.”
Bridget relented then, with a little exhalation of relief.
Kate took the fags and oil soaked rags, glad that she had averted a disaster. But just then they heard the sound of boots outside the doorway. Bridget slipped away like a wraith. Kate was not so fortunate.
Kate tried to slip by the burly man at the door, but he put his arm out to bar her way. “Halt lass, what have you there.”
She stopped. She’d had the presence of mind to drop the rags, but she still held the tinder box under her cloak. “Bread.”
He lifted his lantern and the light picked out the pile of faggots and rags. “Bread?” He didn’t believe her. “Show me.”
She tried to dash by him, but had no luck. The big man called out for help, and in moments she found herself in the street, surrounded by curious by-passers and suspicious police.
The guard said, “Looks like I stopped her just before she got to light the fire. Pile would have sent everything up.”
The policeman looked sharply at her. “Who are you.”
Kate opened her mouth to speak and then stopped. If she said her real name, then they might look with suspicion on Sean. Or trace it back to Bridget. So she lied, “Mary Duffy.”
She caught sight of Bridget in the crowd. The girl was pale and silent. Kate tried to signal her silently to slip away. There was no use both of them being caught up in the mess.
“What were you doing here?”
She decided the truth might serve her best here—if she omitted Bridget’s name and description. “I saw someone acting suspiciously and I followed..him.”
“No sign of anyone else, that I saw,” the burly man said with a shake of his head. “Just her.”
“He ran away when he saw me,” she improvised.
“And handed you the tinderbox?”
“Yes.” It sounded foolish to her ears. As the men glared at her and moved closer to close off any hope she had to escape, she wished she’d thought to come up with a complete—and believable—lie.”
The guard took her hands roughly in his and held them up to his nose to sniff. “Oil. Just like on the rags in there. She’s the one I saw. The only one.” He shook his head and sneered at her. “Out to cause mischief were you? Well you have—for yourself.”
“This is a mistake.”
“Surely it is.” He grinned, a bloodhound who’d managed to tree his quarry. “Yours.”
He seemed to recognize the terror that weakened her knees and revel in it. “Thought you were going to warm yourself by a fire tonight and instead you’ll be shivering in a cell.”
She knew she should be afraid for herself, but somehow she felt she would be fine. The duke would straighten everything out if she couldn’t do so herself when she faced the magistrate. He’d be furious with her, of course. But he would set her free. She had no doubt.
So, even though the unfriendly crowd jeered at her she couldn’t find room in her heart to worry for her future, she was too worried about Bridget. As they carted her away, Kate swept the crowd for signs of the girl. There was no sight of her. She didn’t know whether to be glad the girl had gotten away, or worried about what she would do next. Hadn’t she threatened to kidnap Jamie?
“Have you seen this woman?″ Sean showed the miniature of Bridget to the men loading cargo on the dock. He had missed the Daisy’s Pride. It had sailed the day before, with a full complement of passengers and cargo.
The man didn′t glance long before shaking his head.
Damn. Where was she? He glanced around the teaming dockside. She hadn’t wanted the ship to sail, he knew. But more importantly, she hadn’t wanted Kate or Jamie to sail with it. Had she found them? What might she have done to prevent them from sailing?
He cursed his foolishness. He should have seen Kate to the coast himself. Should have put her on the ship. Should have locked his sister in a tower and thrown away the key years ago—for her own good. For all he knew she could have been taken up by white slavers and be long gone.
He started toward the closest inn. He’d check them all if he had to. He’d show them Bridget’s miniature—and the one of Kate that her sister Helena had given him. Someone had to have seen one of them.
The cell they tossed her in was filthy, and cold as promised. But she had barely time to let the reality sink in before the door squeaked open and the guard said gruffly. “Visitor.”
She expected Bridget, but smiled when she saw who had come instead. She was surprised at the temptation to throw her arms around him. She barely knew him, after all. “I take it she didn’t manage to kidnap you, then?”
Jamie Jeffreys looked around the cell grimly and then at her. “She tried, but when she told me what happened, I pointed out that getting you out of here would require that I have some freedom.”
Kate felt a sweep of relief to know that there was someone who would help, even if he were a boy of eighteen. And then she panicked. “Does your father know?”
He looked at her as if she’d asked him a foolish question. “My father believes I sailed on the Daisy’s Pride.”
“I’m sorry. I’m grateful you’d even be willing to help me, considering—“
“Why did you give a false name? I can’t believe they’d hold the wife of an earl in conditions like this.”
She had no intention of confessing that she was afraid the authorities would find out about Sean’s illegal activities. After all, his father was one of the authorities and she would not test his loyalties to such an extent. “I didn’t want my husband to know.”
“I thought it might be something like that. Bridget seems quite upset at his decision to divorce you.” He shifted his feet in the dank straw. “You must tell them now.”
“I can’t.”
“You—“
“I know it seems unwise to you, but I would rather that no one ever know my true identity. If you could get word to the duke, he will help me, and no one will be the wiser.”
“I can send a message, of course, but it will take some time.” He glanced around the cell, not hiding his distaste. “You will not be comfortable.”
“I cannot help that.” She still remembered how Sean had accused her of betraying him. To have his wife arrested for arson would, without doubt, be a betrayal of him.
“If I spoke to my father—“
“Absolutely not.” Though she suspected Jeffreys would help her, she wasn’t certain he wouldn’t use her situation against Sean somehow. “There must be some other way.”
“Bridget will not be happy. She told me not to come back without you.” He looked unhappy. “I can’t promise that she won’t tell her brother—“
She grasped his arm tightly. “You must not let her. Tell her that she risks her brother’s reputation.”
“Surely—“
“Tell her that.” Bridget would understand the whole of it, she trusted, despite the cryptic nature of her words. “Tell her exactly that. She will not go to her brother.”
The guard came to the door. “Time’s up.”
Jamie glanced at her regretfully. “I cannot bear to think of leaving you here.”
“I can do this.” She wasn’t certain she could, but she would not show weakness to him. He might tell the truth himself to help her if he thought she was not strong enough to survive this trial.
“If only--”
She said, as forcefully as she could while whispering to keep her words from the guard’s ear, “You must find a way to release Mary Duffy without revealing that I am the wife of the Earl of Blarney.” Especially to the earl himself.
“It will make freeing you more difficult.”
“They cannot believe I would do such a thing.”
His young face held only disbelief that she could be so naïve. “They can, and they very well might.”He patted her hand. “We will get you out, my lady.”
The guard approached and put his hand on Jamie’s shoulder. In a moment, he was gone, leaving her alone to hope she was as strong as she had said she was.
Kate found herself brought into the court with very little ceremony. She had hoped to present a dignified presence, but it was difficult when she hadn’t even been able to wash the dirt of her cell from her face or clothing.
At first it seemed that the magistrate would simply listen to the testimony of the man who had found her in the shed.
Frightened, she dared to ask, “May I speak?”
The magistrate, his eyes cold and unfriendly frowned at her. “What lies would you like to pour into our ears like vicious poison?”
“I frightened away the person who meant to start the fire. I meant only to prevent a fire, not cause one.” She tried to meet his eyes, unfriendly as they were, and to speak in a steady, calm voice that bespoke complete honesty.
“Lies, my lord.” The man who had caught her cried out in outrage. “I saw the wicked shift of her eyes when she was caught. There was naught but guilt in them.”
“What reason had you to be there?”
“I thought the man suspicious.” Her voice faltered, revealing that she realized the weakness of her own excuse.
“Your hands smelled of oil—and probably still do,” the man grumbled.
The magistrate ruled in a thunderous voice, “Mary Duffy, you are found guilty of mischief and intent to do murder.”
“Murder.” Kate was astonished. She had heard them read the charges when she entered, but she had not been able to make out the words for the buzzing of dizziness in her ears—she had not managed to eat the gruel they had served to her and had only forced herself to drink the brackish water because she knew she must.
The man who’d caught her called out angrily, “There were two lads set to guard the merchandise. If you’d been successful in setting your fire, they would surely have perished.”
Kate protested faintly, “I was trying to stop the fire.”
The magistrate, his limited patience exhausted, banged down his gavel. “The court will hear no more from the criminal.”
“But--” Kate felt as if she were floating above herself.
The horror of what he said made her vision darken until she could not see the man, but only hear his terrifying voice. “Silence! You are sentenced to hang by the neck until dead.”
Kate felt her knees buckle and gripped the worn wood of the rail in front of her, not caring that the splinters dug deeply into her fingers.
When the judge said calmly, “ Sentence to be carried out at dawn tomorrow,” her vision suddenly cleared from the shock. She saw, in the sea of condemning faces, the horrified stares of Jamie and Bridget.
Tomorrow. The sentence passed through her like a shock, leaving her incapable of feeling anything, though her vision was acutely focused on Bridget and Jamie. The boy’s face was white and his lips mere half open, as if to reveal her identity then and there.
She shook her head and cried out, “No!”
Everyone else in the courtroom no doubt thought she was reacting to the harshness of her sentence. But he knew what she really meant and pressed his lips tightly together.
They rushed her back to her cell roughly and she tried not to wish that Sean had been there to save her. No doubt he would be glad to discover she had spared him the expense and scandal of a divorce. A man was received so much more sympathetically in society if he was a widower.
Sean found someone who had seen them both at an inn not far from the dock. They had not seen Kate recently, but expected Bridget and her husband to return in the evening, as was their usual habit.
“Husband?”
The serving maid looked at him sympathetically, “Young runaways are they?”
He thought that the best cover for him. “I had hoped to get to them before—“
She shook her head. “They don’t act like lovers, I’ll tell you that. But they share a room and what red-blooded man, young or not, wouldn’t take advantage of that?” She made her own willingness to take advantage of a room with him, but he paid her for her information and declined to take a room. “I won’t be staying that long,” he declared. Just long enough to collect Bridget and kill Jamie Jeffreys.
He sat in a dark corner of the inn’s tavern, waiting and watching. When the entered, he stood too soon. Bridget turned and saw him, her eyes widened in alarm. Without a word to Jamie she disappeared back out the door.
Jeffreys, without a glance at Sean, followed her.
By the time he made his way through the crowded room, they were nowhere to be seen.
Damn. He’d have to search all over again. But they were fools if they thought they would elude him.
Kate didn’t want to die.
She paced her the cell they had placed her in after the trial—careful not to come too near any of the other inhabitants, who in the gloom were somewhat difficult to see. Despair and dirt had grayed their features and clothing until they faded into the walls and dirty gray straw.
She might have been afraid of them in other circumstances. But her mind could not focus on anything but the dilemma. She might get a new trial, if she divulged her identity. Or she might not. Most likely, either way, she would implicate Sean and ruin him.
One of the women in her new cell moved away from the wall where she had been a mere shadow, and smiled at her—a horrifying vision of diseased gums and rotting teeth. “What a pretty neck to be stretched.”
She grimaced, “I still have hope that my friends shall intervene before then.”
“Before tomorrow?” The woman cackled. “Are the fairies your friends then? Because you’d need fairy magic to escape here.”
Kate felt an unpleasant jolting reminder of Bridget. Would the girl have become like this woman if she’d been charged with trying to murder Jamie? Or would she, like Kate have had her sentence so efficiently scheduled?
“I know they will do their best,” she whispered, more to herself than to her curious cellmate.
“It’s a shame you’re not breeding. That would give your friends a few months.” The woman cackled. “Not that it’s likely to do you any good.”
Could she be? “I suppose that is a possibility.” The thought wasn’t particularly pleasant.
“You’ve been with a man?”
Kate blushed, unexpectedly embarrassed by the salacious glint in the woman’s eyes. “My husband. We were hoping to have a child soon.”
There was a gleeful liveliness to the woman’s crooked gait as she shuffled to the small window in the door. “Guards! This one’s to be a mother. You’ll have to wait to stretch her neck.”
Kate was surprised at the quick response. A guard came in and pushed the old woman away. “Get back, Annie and stop your cackling. You don’t know anything.”
“She’s been with a man—her husband at that. And she’s not had her courses since.”
The guard looked at Kate. “That the truth?”
She nodded. If telling such painfully personal information would give her more time to decide what to do, she would do so gladly.
He sighed and the old woman cackled yet again. “Too bad, too bad. One less neck to stretch tomorrow.”
“If you’re lying it will go ill with you.” The guard gestured her out of the cell.
Go ill with her? Was there a worse situation than being hanged until dead tomorrow? She shuddered. And then she realized that there was. What if she was to have a child, and then have it ripped from her arms so that she could be hanged? No, she calmed herself. There would be ample time for the duke to intervene in such a case.
She was interviewed several times before they brought her to yet another cell with a warning that she would be examined for signs of her condition frequently and if it was determined that she did not carry a child her sentence would be carried out forthwith.
Jamie came to see her that evening. “Bridget has a plan to save you tomorrow.”
“I am not to be hanged tomorrow, it seems.”
He seemed surprised. “What has happened? Have you told them—“
Aware of the guard close to the door, she interrupted him. “There is a possibility that I am to be a mother. They’ll not hang me until I have the child.” Or until there was proof she was not pregnant. But she would not think of that.
He flushed darkly. “I see.” And then he frowned as he looked around him. “Is that not even more reason to tell them—“
“No. The duke will receive your message and send help soon.”
“You hope for miracles, still.” He rose, looking grim. “As does Bridget. I will not tell you her plan, then, as it will not work until you are on the scaffold…if it works then.” He shook his head. “I’ve promised her I would not give up on you, but think of your child if you are not willing to consider yourself. Tell them who you are and you could be out of here within the day.”
“I will not.” No child would benefit from having his mother hanged, she knew that well enough. But having his father’s title attainted and his father hanged would, she realized, be infinitely worse.
“Very well then. We must hope for word from the duke very soon.” His parting glance held more desperation than reassurance.
Three days later, she found out for certain that she would not have a child.