Chapter Eighteen

After declaring yesterday that she would not take Jane with her and coming as close as she ever had to falling out with her maid, Sabrina was determined not to change her mind. Her maid’s disapproval at attending the meeting at Spa Fields might undermine her resolve to seek out Henry Hunt. And whatever Jane might say, she had no need of a chaperone. She was travelling in her own carriage right to the door of the inn where Mr Hunt was to speak. After that, depending on how their meeting went, she would either remain at the inn or listen to him from the privacy of her carriage. There could be no harm in that.

Sabrina did, however, decide she must dress sensibly for this outing. She chose a plain, chestnut brown pelisse, from which she had removed a frivolous fur collar, and she put on a matching bonnet that not only covered her hair but had the advantage of a wide brim to shield her face from curious eyes.

‘There,’ she said, regarding herself in the glass. ‘I look sober enough, do I not?’

‘Oh, Miss Sabrina, let me go with you!’

‘No, you had much better stay here. In fact,’ she added, after a look at her maid’s countenance made her suspect she might set out to follow her, ‘I order you to remain in the house today. Do you understand me, Jane?’

Having elicited a promise from her maid, Sabrina set off from Brook Street. It was not yet eleven o’clock, and she planned to speak to Mr Hunt as soon as he arrived at Merlin’s Cave, the public house from where he was to make his speech. However, as they approached Clerkenwell the roads became ever more crowded with people moving towards Spa Fields.

After trying several roundabout routes, her coachman came to a halt.

‘It’s no good, my lady, I can’t get no further.’

‘Very well, I shall walk,’ declared Sabrina, opening the door.

‘Do you think that’s wise, ma’am?’

‘Of course,’ she said, pausing on the step to look about her. Everyone she could see was dressed respectably, and it was well known that Henry Hunt was a powerful advocate of peaceful meetings. However, perhaps she would not stay once she had spoken to him ‘Wait here, if you please. I shall not be very long.’

She set off along the street and soon found herself surrounded by several dozen others, all heading in the same direction. As they approached Merlin’s Cave, the numbers swelled until everyone was being jostled along. Sabrina began to feel the first stirring of alarm. It was impossible to decide just where they were going, but a question to a woman close by elicited the information that they were all on their way to Coldbath Fields, from where Mr Hunt and his party were expected to make their entrance.

Sabrina considered turning back, but one look at the hordes behind convinced her that it would be more difficult to withdraw than to go on with the throng. She was fairly close to the front of the crowds and she decided that when Mr Hunt did arrive, she would be able to push her way through and attract his attention.

An outbreak of cheering made her look up. Over the assembled heads she could see two flags made of red, white and blue cloth bobbing towards them. There was also a banner bearing the legend, “The Brave Soldiers are our Brothers, treat them kindly.”

The words sent a sudden chill down her back. Why would anyone want to brandish such an inscription, unless they were expecting trouble?

Everyone suddenly surged forward. As she was carried with them, she saw that a waggon had been drawn across the road and two men climbed up onto it. One was Dr Watson and the other man Sabrina recognised as his son, although she had not seen him for several years. She listened to the doctor address the crowd in stirring accents. Her unease increased when James Watson junior took over. It was impossible to make out every word because of the noise around her, but she heard enough to feel concerned.

‘The whole country is waiting for a signal from London, my friends!’ cried James. ‘Then they will fly to arms...there must be no tythes or enclosures... Bishops are no more than useless lumber. Free the prisoners... Storm the Bank of England! Make our demands. No rise in bread. No Regent, no Castlereagh...off with their heads!’

Sabrina was now seriously alarmed. The crowd were already baying for blood as she turned and began to push her way back through the crowd. No one paid any heed to her, but neither did they move out of her way. If she could just reach the buildings at the side of the road...

‘Sabrina!’ It sounded like Jack’s voice, but it couldn’t be. ‘Sabrina!’

And there he was, beside her. Dizzy with irrational relief, she clutched at his hand. He put an arm about her and began to force a path for them through the crowd until they reached the relatively safety of the pavement. He had pulled her up the steps and into the shelter of a doorway before she found her voice.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘I came to find you.’

‘To find me? B-but why, how?’

‘Never mind that now.’ He was looking over her head, his eyes darting everywhere. ‘We must get out of here.’

Aware of the dangers posed by the baying mob, Jack tried to pull Sabrina closer but she held him off.

‘No, I cannot leave yet. I am here to see Henry Hunt.’ She turned to stare out over the crowd. ‘He must be here by now!’

Jack saw that the younger of the two speakers had jumped down from the waggon and seized one of the flags. He was exhorting everyone to come with him to Threadneedle Street.

‘That man is Dr Watson’s son, James,’ said Sabrina, twisting out of his grasp. ‘I know him. I can ask him what has happened to Mr Hunt.’

‘Sabrina, no!’ Jack followed her down the steps and caught her arm. ‘Come out of the way. This is no time to be asking questions.’

The flag was heading in their direction, the mob parting to let the man through and then closing in again behind him, howling and crying like pack animals. But even as Jack was urging Sabrina back into the doorway, Watson spotted them. He turned and moved across towards them.

‘Well, well. Miss Kydd. Or should I call you Lady Massyngham now? Come to support us, have you? In lieu of your cowardly father? He’s gone off to the country, out of the way!’

Sabrina shook her head at him. ‘He had no choice about that, James.’

‘Then come and join us, madam.’

The man held out his hand and Jack stepped in front of her.

‘No! On your way, sir. She’ll not come with you.’

‘Ho, is this your latest beau, Sabrina? You want to fight with me, eh, my fine fellow?’

Those closest to Watson picked up on his animosity and immediately launched themselves at Jack. He had neither the time nor the room to draw his sword stick before he found his arms pinned to his sides. He was pulled into the road and several heavy fists pummelled him. As he fell to his knees, he heard Sabrina shout out above the baying mob and his own grunts of pain.

‘Stop that! James, tell them to stop. Leave him, get away from him!’

‘He’s agin us!’ cried one man, as Sabrina pushed herself between Jack and his assailants.

‘No, he is not,’ she cried, shielding him from the mob. ‘This man is a friend to the people.’

‘He’s rich,’ screeched a voice. ‘A damned landowner hammering his people into the ground!’

They surged forward, but Sabrina stood her ground, raising her voice so that it carried loud and clear as a bell over the crowd.

‘No! Lord John has cut the rents for his tenants and is using his own money to sustain them. He has promised there will be no evictions and he is a man of his word!’

Jack struggled to his feet and Sabrina took his arm to support him. She had lost her bonnet in the fray and some of her dark golden curls had come loose and tumbled over her shoulders. Despite the danger, he felt his heart swell with pride for her as she stood tall and unafraid at his side. The mob had quietened a little and she called across to Watson.

‘Call off your men, James. Go on your way, if you must, but leave us be.’ She said, earnestly, ‘Please, James. For the friendship you and I once shared. For the sake of the fellowship my father showed yours.’

Jack kept silent. Addressing Watson had had an effect. The baying had died to a dull muttering now, but the air around them was still full of anger, and he knew it could very easily turn into violence. He gathered his strength, trying to work out where it hurt most and how best he could protect Sabrina if the mob turned on them again. Watson was wavering, glaring at them. Then, as the crowd around him began to grow restless, he suddenly lifted the flag and waved it.

‘Follow me, my friends. We march to Threadneedle Street!’

‘And Newgate,’ someone yelled. ‘To the Bastille!’

Watson moved off and Jack pulled Sabrina against him as the mob surged after their leader. They managed to keep their feet and finally force their way to the side of the road. He placed her against the wall and stood close, his back protecting her from the seething mass of bodies who were still streaming past them. When the noise and the crowd had abated a little, she leaned against him, her head on his shoulder.

‘Oh, why did you have to come?’ she asked him, her voice breaking. ‘Why did you risk yourself for me?’

He gave a ragged laugh. ‘Do you really need to ask?’

She looked up at him, dawning wonder in her eyes, and he knew she understood him at last.

‘Foolish, foolish man!’ Half laughing, half weeping, she buried her face in his coat.

Jack hugged her close, the agony of his bruised ribs as nothing compared to the need to ask another question. ‘Why did you protect me?’

She went very still, and he held his breath, waiting for her answer.

At last she said, shyly, ‘For the same reason, I hope?’

He let out his breath in a long, relieved sigh as she looked up at him. He smiled down at her, ignoring the pain in his bruised cheek.

‘I love you, Sabrina Fair.’

With a sob she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. ‘Oh, you foolish, headstrong, wonderful man!’

Sabrina gave herself up to the kiss, revelling in the feel of Jack’s arms about her, exulting in the fact that he loved her. But such feelings only lasted a few moments. She had not intended to give herself away like that, and she was already regretting her impulsive actions when the noise from the crowded street reminded her that the danger might not yet be over. She put her hands against his chest and, reluctantly, he raised his head.

‘What is it, love?’

Instead of answering him, Sabrina looked over his shoulder. She was relieved to see that the mob following James Watson had moved away and were no longer a threat. Then a shout went up from the remaining crowd; someone had spotted a carriage approaching from the other direction.

‘Mr Hunt has arrived,’ she said.

‘Do you wish to stay?’

Jack’s question surprised her, but it pleased her, too. He was giving her a choice, allowing her to decide for herself, despite the dangers. However, she knew he would not leave without her.

‘Not today,’ she told him. ‘You took a beating and need to rest. Let us move away from here.’

Jack took her arm. He said nothing but he was glad she had decided to come away. Hundreds of people were still surging into the fields to listen to Henry Hunt, and they had to fight their way through them, against the flow. Jack’s ribs were aching badly, every step was painful as they wove their way between the groups of people moving towards Merlin’s Cave.

At last the crowds grew thinner and Sabrina pointed down the street.

‘There is my coach,’ she told him. ‘Where is yours?’

‘I sent mine away,’ Jack replied. ‘The traffic was at a stand as I approached Islington. But that is no matter, I will go and find a cab.’

‘That would be foolish when my carriage is at hand and you are in such pain. Do not deny it,’ she said quickly, anticipating his reply. ‘I can tell from your breathing that your ribs are injured.’

‘Bruised, I think, certainly on the left, but nothing broken.’

‘Let us hope so.’

Jack put his hand against his side as he drew in another breath. There was no escaping the fact that some of the punches had found their mark. He would be bruised and sore for a few days yet.

He said, when they reached the coach, ‘You had best take me to Brook Street. I told Tom Weald to meet me there.’

‘Why would you do that?’ She looked up at him in surprise.

He said, casually, ‘I thought he and Mrs Nidd could support one another until our return.’

His innocent reply drew a smouldering look from Sabrina, but she gave her orders to the driver before climbing into the carriage.

‘I suppose it was Mr Weald who told you I was coming here today,’ she said, as they began to move.

‘Yes. He had it from Mrs Nidd. I hope you will not be angry with her. She is very worried about you, you know.’

‘She has no need to be.’

‘No? She told Tom that since returning from Hartland you have not been happy.’

‘How dare they discuss my concerns!’

‘No, it was very wrong of her to tell him, was it not? Just as it was wrong of Tom to inform her that I had lowered the rents for my tenants.’ He paused. ‘That is how you knew about it, I suppose?

‘Yes.’ A touch of colour stole into her cheeks.

‘Dear, dear,’ he said mildly. ‘Gossiping servants. What should we do, turn them off?’

The stormy look in her eyes faded, and after a moment she laughed. ‘You know we cannot do that.’

‘Well, we are going to have to do something, since they are clearly very taken with one another.’ He hesitated, then. ‘We could turn one of the attics at Lingwood into their own private quarters for them, I suppose. If you would like to live there, that is, after we are married.’

She flushed. ‘We are not going to be married, my lord.’

‘I think we must now, don’t you?’ He took her hand. ‘I do love you, you know.’

She looked at him, her eyes troubled. ‘Oh, Jack, you don’t know me!’

‘I know enough, my darling, and the rest makes no odds to me. Although,’ he added, teasing her, ‘given your reputation as a wicked widow, I am hoping we will both enjoy our nights together...’

Her response surprised him. He thought she might laugh, or be outraged, but he did not expect her to burst into tears. She was sitting on his right, so he was able to put his arm about her without too much discomfort. He drew her close, and she cried into his shoulder while he crooned soothingly.

‘Oh, my darling, forgive me. I did not mean to insult you.’

‘I know that,’ she muttered, hunting for her handkerchief. ‘But you do not understand. I have lived a lie for so long. That is my true wickedness.’ She eased herself out of his hold and sat up very straight. ‘I c-cannot marry you unless you know everything about me.’

‘Very well, although I doubt anything you say will shock me.’

She gave a little nod, wiped her eyes and sat with the handkerchief scrunched between her hands.

‘But I must tell you all of it, then you can judge me for yourself.’

Jack realised it would be useless to tell her he had already made up his mind about her. He sat back again and motioned to her to continue. ‘Go on.’

‘Sir Roderick promised to return the letters to me, as soon as we were married.’ Her head dropped a little lower. ‘That is, as soon as the marriage had been c-consummated. But as I told you, he kept them and held the threat over my head for the four years of our marriage. My mother had already persuaded Papa to leave London and Sir Roderick’s settlement was generous enough to cover the cost of buying the property in Hartland immediately. The subsequent sale of the house in Russell Square allowed them to live quite comfortably and out of the public eye, but while the threat remained, Papa could not be safe, and I dare not defy my husband.’

Sabrina was silent for a moment, pulling the handkerchief back and forth through her fingers while she searched for the right words. This part was by far the most difficult, for these were her own secrets. Things she had not disclosed to anyone.

‘It became clear to me soon after our marriage that Sir Roderick’s health was failing. Years of drinking and wenching were catching up with him, but he wanted everyone to believe he was still a great lover. I was part of his pretence, even when I no longer shared his bed. It amused him to have me play hostess for him, but I refused to join in his sordid games.’

She turned her head to look at Jack.

‘I said I could never lie to you, but I did. I lied when I told you I had made up all those things I told you of my innocence in order to rouse your desire. I thought...I thought it would give you such a disgust of me that you would never want to see me again.’

‘You were right,’ he said grimly. ‘It did. Almost. But why? Why did you allow the world to think you were as licentious as Rogue Massyngham?

‘To begin with it mattered not to me what anyone thought. And besides, what else could I do? Only when Sir Roderick was dead and I had destroyed the letters could I be free. Until then I kept up a pretence. I remained faithful to my husband but I managed to keep his debauched friends at bay. It was not hard, most of them were already impotent, although I was content to let them boast of their triumph with me.’

‘But afterwards, when you became a widow,’ said Jack. ‘You had a choice, then.’

‘Yes.’ She went back to tugging at her handkerchief. ‘I could retire into pious seclusion or I could go back out into the world. I was four-and-twenty and I craved company. I knew everyone thought me a wicked, decadent woman but I did not care for that. I liked dancing and card parties and attending the theatre. I was very happy to accept a man’s escort. It could be very convenient. But, contrary to the rumours, I never took any one of them as a lover, and I allowed no man to call me his mistress.’

‘Wait!’ He put up his hand, frowning. ‘Are you telling me that in all the years of your marriage, and to this day, you never lost your heart to any man?’

‘Yes, I am.’ She looked up and met his eyes. ‘Because I had already lost it to you, Jack Callater.’

She looked away again quickly.

‘I do not expect you to believe me,’ she went on. ‘I have no doubt you will despise me even more, knowing how much I deceived you.’

‘No,’ he said, gathering her into his arms. ‘I think you have been incredibly noble, and brave. And do not forget that I deceived you, too, when I pretended not to care. But we can put it all behind us now. Let us make a pact. There will be no more lies between us. We will always be honest with one another, as a man and wife should be.’

‘There will be gossip.’ She held him off. ‘My reputation will not be quickly forgotten.’

‘If I do not care a jot for that, then neither should you.’

‘It is not only that.’ She hesitated. ‘Do not forget, I cannot give you children.’

‘Oh, my dearest heart, that is very sad, but we will overcome that together. We will have each other.’

‘But you will be Marquess of Doune one day. You will need an heir.’

‘I have brothers, one of them is already married with a hopeful family. The line will not die out.’

‘You say that now, but you might change your mind.’ She stared at his neckcloth. ‘You might fall out of love with me.’

With a laugh he pulled her closer. ‘I have not fallen out of love with you in the past six years, despite everything I heard about you. And believe me, I did try to forget you. I tried very hard to do so.’

‘I thought you hated me,’ she whispered, burying her face in his shoulder.

‘No, no, I could never hate you, although I was angry. And hurt, but I never stopped loving you.’

‘Oh, Jack!’ She threw her arms about him as tears welled up again, but this time they were tears of happiness.

Jack put his hand beneath her chin and tilted her face up towards him.

‘It is you that I want,’ he told her. ‘I cannot live without you. I know there must always be a sadness if we do not have a child of our own, but since it cannot be helped, then we will make the best of it. There will be plenty to do at Lingwood, improving the estate, looking after the farms and the tenants. And we will have visits to London, too. We need not shut ourselves away entirely from the entertainments of the capital. And no doubt you wish to take up some charitable work. You might even wish to do something to support Hunt’s political reforms.’

Her eyes widened at that. ‘You would allow me to do that?’

‘Of course. You are your own woman, my darling, I would not wish to change that.’ He shifted his position and winced a little. ‘You will have to excuse me if I do not get down on my knees, love, but my ribs are already complaining! So, what do you say, Sabrina Fair? Will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?’

His face had grown misty and she blinked hard to clear her vision. ‘Yes. Of course I will marry you!’

With a huge sigh of relief he kissed her, exulting in the way she responded to him, forgetting the bruises on his face and body, forgetting everything except the fact that Sabrina loved him.

‘Oh, Jack, my darling, Jack,’ she sighed, when at last he raised his head. ‘I think I must be the most fortunate woman alive!’

‘Then I am the luckiest man,’ he murmured, smiling down at her. ‘I know there is much injustice in our world, Sabrina. I am only too aware of the plight of the poor, and I will be very happy to work with you to remedy that, but not in this way, my love. Not with violence and riots. We will be reformers rather than revolutionaries. There are good men and women in this land who are striving for a peaceful change. We will help them. We will work with them to achieve a vote for every man.’

‘Every man?’ she murmured, her eyes glinting with mischief. ‘Not every woman, too?’

He grinned and pulled her back into his arms. ‘One step at a time, my love.’