SEVEN

JAYNE, UNABLE TO MAKE HEAD nor tail of what had just happened, worked up a considerable anger against William as she walked towards High East Street. Why hadn’t he warned her she would be met by an armed officer? And why had he abandoned her? She might have been tempted to ignore Molly’s request to meet him had her concern for Lady Alice not persuaded her otherwise. She found him outside the bakery where they’d stood on the day of the priest’s execution, but he was showing more interest in a young girl than in searching the crowd for Jayne. He had to crouch to catch her words, and only became aware of Jayne’s presence when she dropped the linen bag at his feet.

He dismissed the girl immediately. ‘I wasn’t expecting you, Mistress Swift.’

‘Clearly not.’ She studied him for a moment. ‘An explanation on our walk from the inn would have been helpful. I’d have played the role of laundress rather better had I known what to expect.’

William hid his reaction to this by stooping to lift the linen bag. ‘There’s a private room upstairs where we can speak more freely,’ he said, gesturing to the interior of the bakery. ‘Will you allow me to take you there?’

Jayne turned to look into the shop, which was full of servants buying bread. ‘Is it necessary?’

‘It is if I’m to tell you why Lady Alice summoned you, ma’am. You’ll do her a great service if you’re prepared to listen.’

Jayne assented reluctantly. ‘How do we reach it?’

‘Through the door at the back of the shop,’ said William, ushering her around the interior wall. He raised the latch and stood aside to let Jayne through, and she found herself in a narrow hallway with a flight of stairs leading upwards. ‘It’s the first room at the top on the right, ma’am,’ he said, removing the hessian sack from her shoulder and motioning for her to go ahead of him. He felt her sudden stiffening at the brush of his hand against her arm and, when she didn’t move, he eased past her and took the treads himself. ‘The steps are uneven. You’ll feel safer if you take your time and keep hold of the rail.’

Jayne steadied herself against the door. There was no logic to these bouts of sudden paralysis. They’d become mercifully rare in the last four months, but even her father could induce panic if he came too close in a confined space. Yet William was no more likely to attack her than Sir Henry was. If he’d meant her harm, he’d have taken advantage of her on the walk from the inn, not waited until they were in a building full of people. Even so, it was a minute or two before she felt able to mount the stairs.

The chamber was larger than she’d been expecting, mirroring the size of the shop and bakery downstairs. It had the appearance of a dining or drinking hall, with a long table running down its centre, and shelves carrying pewter tankards lining the wooden panelling at one end. Three windows evenly placed in the wall overlooking High East Street admitted light and air, and the room was so open and bright that Jayne’s anxiety began to dissipate. She took a single pace inside, noting that William had placed her medicine sack and the linen bag on the floor beside the door.

He stood at the central window, watching the comings and goings in the road outside. ‘I was wrong not to wait for Molly, ma’am,’ he said quietly. ‘Will you accept my apologies? It was most inappropriate to invite you inside without a chaperone.’

‘Is Molly coming?’

He continued to watch the road. ‘I believe so. She asked me to meet her here.’

‘When did you speak with her? Were you inside the house when I was at the back?’

He shook his head. ‘I can’t gain entry either. The girl you saw me speaking with is our parlourmaid. She came with messages from Molly.’

‘What did she tell you?’

William turned with a sigh. ‘Very little. All I know is that six of Prince Maurice’s dragoons are in the house, five in good health and one unwell. They’ll not accept help from the Dorchester physicians because they don’t trust them, so Milady sent for you.’

‘How did it become her business?’

‘She’s related to the only Englishman in the party. He came asking for help yesterday, and she didn’t feel she could deny him. The sick man was taken to her house last night when all were asleep, and a messenger was dispatched to Swyre as soon as it was light.’

Jayne stared at him in puzzlement. ‘Then why did Molly send me away? Why am I not in the house caring for this person?’

‘I imagine because you’re not what the Royalists are expecting, ma’am. It seems Milady promised them her brother’s physician, and they assumed that meant a man.’ He paused. ‘I was away yesterday and last night and only learnt something was amiss when I returned this morning, and by then the messenger had left for Swyre. Had it been otherwise, I would have urged Lady Alice to refuse her relative’s request, and we would not be in this unhappy situation.’

‘Through your fault,’ Jayne admonished William sharply. ‘Had you given me this information at the inn, I could have ridden to Bridport for my tutor, Doctor Theale. He was Sir John’s physician long before I was and would not have refused a request from Lady Alice.’

She turned at the sound of footsteps on the stairs and saw Molly, red-faced from exertion, struggling up them.

‘You mustn’t blame William, Mistress Swift,’ Molly said breathlessly, inching past Jayne to place a covered bread basket on the table. ‘The only message I could give him this morning was a written request similar to the one I gave you. First to waylay you and send you to the kitchen quarters, and then to wait for me at the bakery. All is at sixes and sevens. Milady is confined to her chamber, the maids to the scullery, and decisions have fallen on me.’ She shifted her attention to William. ‘Did little Jenny find you? She’s so tiny I hoped she might squeeze through the scullery window. I told her you’d be here if she could find a way to escape.’

‘She found me,’ he said gently. ‘Now breathe and be calm. Mistress Swift is as eager as I to hear what you have to say.’

Molly paused to gather her thoughts and then told her story in short, clipped sentences. Lady Alice had agreed to give Sir Walter Hoare, the son of her cousin, a bed for the night. He claimed to have business in town and was gone two hours. By the time he returned, night had fallen, and all were asleep except Molly. When she opened the door to admit him, he caught her about the waist and clamped a hand over her mouth. Other men came in behind him, one barely able to stand.

Lady Alice had been called from her bed in her nightclothes and then subjected to threats and menaces. Her Parliamentary sympathies were well known, but so was her brother’s allegiance to the King. She must summon Sir John Bankes’s physician, whose competence and loyalty could be relied upon. Discretion should be her watchword. If news of the sick man’s presence in her house became public, she would forfeit everything she owned.

Jayne raised a hand to stop her. ‘Who is this person and what ails him?’

‘I don’t know, ma’am. We were ordered to make up a bed for him in the salon and have been barred from that room ever since. Even Milady hasn’t spoken with him. She wrote the summons to you under instruction from Sir Walter and was then returned to her chamber. No one’s allowed to enter and she cannot leave.’

‘Why did she address me as Doctor Swift rather than Mistress Swift? Sir Walter was bound to think me male with such a title.’

‘It was he who gave her your name, ma’am, or an approximation at least. Send for Doctor James Swift, he said, of whom Lady Bankes speaks highly. He became angry when Milady tried to point out his mistake, and I believe he may have struck her, for the door to the parlour was slammed shut. He was insistent that his friend have a competent doctor and not an ignorant army butcher or a Dorchester Puritan quack.’

She went on to explain that, before she was returned to her chamber, Lady Alice had whispered to Molly that William must prevent Mistress Swift from coming. There was danger for her if she presented herself as a physician. But Milady’s instruction was easier given than obeyed. Once a guard was placed in the kitchen to stop anyone entering through the rear of the house, Molly was obliged to send everyone away—including William.

‘I told the dragoon he was Milady’s silversmith, come to collect a bonbon dish for melting down,’ she said. ‘I passed him the note when I handed him the dish.’

William stirred. ‘Why did you not write that I should prevent Mistress Swift coming at all?’ he asked.

‘I was frightened for Milady. Sir Walter has a powerful temper and is very set on his friend being cured. It seemed to me that a female physician was better than none.’ She turned apologetically to Jayne. ‘Or it did until I saw how you were dressed, ma’am. I doubted Sir Walter would accept a poor countrywoman as Sir John’s physician, however hard I tried to persuade him that’s what you were. You were so pretty the last time I saw you that I was sure the ugly creature would be charmed by you.’

Jayne stared at her in consternation. ‘I’m not in the habit of selling my skills through charm, Molly,’ she protested, ‘and certainly not to men as unpleasant-sounding as Sir Walter Hoare. Nor do I wish to enter a house full of soldiers. In any case, these are the only clothes I have, so there’s little we can do to rectify the matter.’

Molly nodded to the linen bag that lay beside Jayne’s hessian sack. ‘One of Milady’s gowns is hidden beneath the sheets, Mistress Swift. There’s so little flesh on her bones these days it no longer fits, but I believe it will hang well on you. Will you allow me to show it to you?’

She didn’t wait for an answer but opened the bag and removed a carefully folded garment from beneath a crumpled sheet, turning to place it on the table and spread it across the surface. The fabric was pale green silk, and the style of tailoring—fluted sleeves, square-necked bodice and wide skirt—still fashionable. When Jayne made no comment, Molly took another garment from the bag, this time in a darker shade of green. ‘Milady always wore this fine wool cloak atop the gown,’ she said, holding it up to allow the fabric to fall to the floor. ‘It has a high collar and is attached to the dress by hooks at the shoulders. The drape at the back will hide any gaps there might be in the laces that hold the bodice together.’

‘Which there will be,’ said Jayne. ‘Even when she was fleshier, Lady Alice was clearly slenderer than I.’ She pointed to her workman’s boots. ‘And what of these? I have a good four inches on your mistress, so they’re bound to show.’

Molly pulled back the cover on the woven bread basket to reveal hairbrushes and a pair of green silk mules to match the gown. ‘Your heel may hang over the end, ma’am, but I believe they will serve the purpose. I do most earnestly beseech you to try. Milady’s too frail to take any more threats.’

William shook his head. ‘You’re being unfair, Molly. Whatever the situation inside the house, we can’t endanger Mistress Swift. We must find a way for me to enter. Am I right that only one dragoon is guarding the kitchen quarters?’

Molly nodded. ‘But he keeps his sword drawn and will recognise you from your earlier visit. You’ll not get past him easily and, even if you do, four more are guarding the hall, the stairs and the salon.’

‘What do you know about the man who’s sick?’

‘Nothing … except that his companions are afraid he’s dying. They look scared every time he cries out, and Sir Walter’s never so angry as when he leaves the salon and demands to know if the doctor’s arrived.’

William pondered for a moment. ‘You should have told the dragoon I was Doctor Swift,’ he said. ‘It may still be possible if Mistress Swift’s willing to lend me her satchel. I need but to gain admission.’

Jayne joined Molly at the table and ran her hand across the gown. ‘You’ll not help Lady Alice by killing these men, William. The town is under Royalist control and she’ll be held as responsible as you for six dead soldiers in her house.’ She pinched the silk between her fingers. ‘If I’m dressed as a lady, Sir Walter will expect me to be chaperoned by a gentleman. Can you pass for one of my Swift relatives? That would allow us both to gain entry.’

‘Are you sure that’s what you want to do, Mistress Swift? You’re under no obligation to any of us.’

‘I’m aware of that,’ she told him, ‘so I require your promise to offer me the same protection you afford Lady Alice.’

A smile touched his eyes. ‘You have it. How long can you give me, Molly?’

‘Thirty minutes at most,’ she said. ‘I must return an hour before noon with bread and meat.’

William walked around the table. ‘When the time comes, you must greet me as a stranger.’

‘Sir Walter knows your face, William.’

‘He may think he does,’ he murmured before departing down the stairs.

Molly led Jayne into the far corner of the hall, where she was hidden from the windows, and asked if she needed help unfastening her bodice and skirt. Jayne shook her head. ‘The task isn’t difficult, since clothes such as these are worn by women who don’t have maids.’

Molly watched her release the hooks at the front of her bodice. ‘Why do you feel the need for a disguise, Mistress Swift?’

‘The poor travel more safely than the rich.’

‘Will your father not pay for a groom to accompany you?’

‘He’d pay for two or three if I allowed him, but the stories they’d take back would give rise to too many lectures. I’d rather dress as a countrywoman and ride alone.’ Jayne slipped the bodice from her arms and handed it to Molly. ‘Take good care of this. I’ll need it for my return journey.’

‘What sort of lectures?’

‘Angry ones on matters such as this.’ She loosened the ties at the side of her skirt and allowed it to drop to the ground before smoothing the creases in her shift. ‘Sir Henry would not approve of his daughter removing her clothes in a Dorchester drinking hall.’

Molly smiled as she retrieved the skirt from the floor and carried the two garments to the table. ‘Lady Alice’s husband was the same. They had more arguments about the way she dressed than they ever did about her beliefs.’ She returned with the gown and lifted it over Jayne’s head, assisting her to feed her arms into the sleeves.

‘What did he object to?’ Jayne asked, as Molly eased the waisted bodice to sit above her hips.

‘Milady wearing men’s apparel, ma’am. Sir Francis thought it immoral, and scolded her constantly about the impropriety of pretending to be something she wasn’t. It was my job to dress her and she always looked the part.’ She moved behind Jayne to begin tightening the laces at the back.

‘Is that what she wanted? To be taken for a man?’

‘Indeed, but not one who spoke or had a position of authority. Most normally, she played the part of bag carrier.’

‘To what end?’

‘I shouldn’t tell you, Mistress Swift. It’s been a well-kept secret for a long time.’

‘You will if you want me to charm Sir Walter Hoare,’ Jayne said firmly. ‘I see no reason why I should humour you if you’re not prepared to humour me.’

Molly told the tale as she laced the bodice as tightly as Jayne could bear. Had Lady Alice been male, she would have earned her living through painting portraits; being female, she’d been obliged to wed. During the early days of her marriage, Sir Francis had been a kindly but absent husband, and Milady, driven to distraction by the dreariness of wifely duties, had devoted her time to painting her servants. Visitors had remarked on the excellence of her talent, while Sir Francis had merely congratulated her on finding an amusing way to entertain herself.

He was foolish to belittle her in such a way, for she became more determined than ever to prove herself worthy of being paid for her skills. Unwittingly, Sir Francis gave her the opportunity. He had a fondness for the theatres in London, hence his many absences, and he offered charity to an actor, a particular favourite of his, who had fallen on hard times through his inability to remember lines. The actor, a handsome but lazy man, accepted a small stipend and a cottage on the Stickland estate in return for the occasional reading aloud of a play by Shakespeare whenever Sir Francis was at home.

‘The master tired of him within six months and urged him to return to London,’ said Molly, draping the cloak about Jayne’s shoulders and hooking it to the shoulders of the gown, ‘but Milady had found another use for him and wouldn’t hear of his going. She increased his stipend and gave him the cottage for life.’

‘Where is he now?’

‘He died of a fever a few days after Sir Francis. It was very sad. Milady had no reason to remain in Winterborne Stickland with both of them gone.’

‘What was his name?’

‘Gilbert Jackson.’ Molly stepped back. ‘The gown looks very well on you, Mistress Swift. You’re fuller-breasted than Lady Alice, so I haven’t been able to draw the laces tight at the top of the bodice, but as long as you wear the cloak the gaps won’t show.’ She pulled a chair from the table and pressed Jayne into it before removing the dirty coif and tut-tutting at the tightly coiled braids Jayne’s maid had fashioned that morning. ‘You must let me loosen these, ma’am. They do nothing to flatter you.’

‘They’re not intended to,’ said Jayne. However, she allowed Molly to remove the pins and shake out the braids. ‘Am I right to think Gilbert Jackson posed as an artist and Lady Alice as his paint and brush carrier?’

Molly nodded. ‘He was a poor actor of Shakespeare but most persuasive at pretending to work at an easel. He had a flair for attracting attention to himself through the telling of amusing stories, so no one took notice of what his manservant was doing.’ She described how Mister Jackson would position himself and his subjects in such a way that they were in light and he was in shadow. In addition, he would never allow anyone to pose for more than an hour, or see how the work had progressed in that time. This allowed Milady to sit unnoticed behind him, making colour matches and sketches of her own which she could then transfer to the canvas when they were alone. The partnership had lasted thirty years and, as Gilbert Jackson’s renown grew, the two had travelled farther afield than Dorset. At her husband’s request, Milady never accepted invitations from London, since Sir Francis believed the pretence was more likely to be discovered there than in the provinces. It was one thing to hoodwink the gullible rural gentry, quite another to attempt the same with the worldly-wise of London. In this, Sir Francis was supported by his brother-in-law, Sir John Bankes, who was nervous of his sister’s rebellious ideas becoming known at court.

‘Yet he was happy to have her sign his portrait as Gilbert Jackson,’ said Jayne.

‘Better that than Alice Stickland,’ said Molly, using her fingers to coax Jayne’s hair into graceful ringlets. ‘She’s painted him several times and one of her early portraits hangs in his office in London. He tells her it’s much admired, but he always claimed Gilbert Jackson was dead if anyone showed an interest in having their own likeness captured.’

‘That must have annoyed her.’

‘No more than it annoys you that you can’t call yourself a doctor, Mistress Swift.’

Jayne gave a low laugh. ‘I’m driven to distraction and beyond because I haven’t that right, Molly. My sympathies are with Lady Alice.’

Molly departed to purchase food, and Jayne was left alone to consider the folly of what they were about to do. The plan had too many flaws to succeed, not least her own reluctance to play the coquette with Sir Walter Hoare. She found herself wishing Molly had thought to dress her as a man, for she was more confident that she could lower her voice than simper and pout like an empty-headed girl. And what if Sir Walter responded to such behaviour? Molly had described him in the most unflattering terms, and the idea of such a person pressing himself against her appalled Jayne.

A knock came on the door before she could alarm herself further. She asked who it was, and when William announced himself, she moved behind the table and called, ‘Enter.’

She wouldn’t have known him. He was transformed by a long dark wig, an embroidered black doublet with a half-cloak over one shoulder, dark britches gathered at the knee, fine leather boots and a gold-hilted sword at his side. She wondered how he had come by such finery, since Lady Alice’s house was closed to him.

‘You look most elegant, Mistress Swift.’

‘As do you, William. Whose appearance is the more fraudulent, I wonder?’

He smiled. ‘There’s nothing fraudulent about yours, ma’am. Sir Henry would be proud to present you as his daughter. As for mine, I thought you’d be more comfortable with a brother as your chaperone. Will I pass for Andrew, whom I believe dresses most fashionably?’

I believe … Where had he come by these details about her family? ‘Not to anyone who knows him,’ she said, picturing her shorter and stouter older brother.

‘Then we must hope he and Sir Walter have never met.’ He removed a folded piece of paper from inside his doublet and passed it across the table. ‘I’m conscious that we first have to persuade Sir Walter you’re qualified to tend his friend, so I’ve taken the liberty of writing a letter of accreditation from Sir John Bankes. Sir Walter has the same relationship with Sir John as he does with Lady Alice, but not so close that he’s in regular communication with either of them and knows their style of writing. I’ve kept the letter short and used the dry language a lawyer might employ.’

Jayne unfolded the page and read the words inscribed on it.

Honoured Mistress Swift,

Please accept my gratitude. Your services have been most beneficial to me. Be assured I shall recommend you as an able physician to any who ask. You may use this letter as a testimonial.

Your obedient servant,
Bankes (Lord Chief Justice)

She raised her head. ‘I doubt it’s in Sir John’s nature to be so generous,’ she said. ‘He never expressed gratitude when I was treating him.’

William stooped to remove her satchel from the hessian sack. ‘He praised you highly enough to Lady Alice, so the sentiments are true even if the words are mine.’ He retrieved the letter and placed it atop her medicines. ‘You must insist on seeing Milady when you arrive. It was she who summoned you; it is therefore she whom you’re expecting to treat.’

‘Will Sir Walter agree to such a request?’

William passed the strap over his head and settled the satchel on his hip. ‘It matters not. Forget everything Molly’s told you and pretend ignorance of Sir Walter and anyone else in the house. You must express the same surprise to see him as he to see you. Can you do that?’

‘Rather better than trying to charm him,’ she answered dryly.

On William’s advice, it was he who knocked on the front door and gave the name of Doctor Swift. Believing him to be the physician, the guards admitted him readily, and by the simple expedient of thrusting his boot against the door, he was able to usher Jayne past him. She made no further progress, however, for the dragoons raised their swords to prevent her. With an angry expletive, William drew his own sword and stepped in front of her.

‘What effrontery is this?’ he demanded. ‘My sister is here by invitation of Lady Alice. Through what brazen impudence do you threaten her?’

‘Who are you, sir?’

‘Captain Andrew Swift of the King’s Regiment of Horse, son to Sir Henry Swift of Swyre and brother to the physician Mistress Jayne Swift. Lower your swords and explain yourselves. Begin with the name of your commander.’

A man appeared from the front parlour. ‘They’re Germans in Prince Maurice’s regiment,’ he said. ‘You speak too fast for them to understand. State your business to me.’

Jayne had little doubt this was Sir Walter Hoare, though he was considerably younger than she was expecting. His skin was pitted with pockmarks and he chewed on a piece of bread as William repeated what he’d said. She felt a flutter of nervousness when he moved past the dragoons and studied William closely.

‘We’ve met before,’ he said. ‘I remember your face.’

‘And I yours, sir, though I don’t recall your name. Were you part of Hopton’s army at Roundway Down? Or perhaps we encountered each other during the siege of Bristol?’

‘Not Roundway Down, sadly, but Bristol for sure. Glorious victories both.’ He held out his hand. ‘Sir Walter Hoare, aide-decamp to Prince Maurice of the Palatinate.’

William sheathed his sword and clasped the hand warmly. ‘An honour, sir. Allow me to present my sister, Jayne Swift. Lady Alice sent word this morning that she has need of her.’

Sir Walter frowned. ‘For what purpose?’

‘The relief of pain,’ said Jayne. ‘Lady Alice calls on my services when the aches in her hip and head are unbearable.’ She turned to William. ‘My satchel, brother. I can make my own way upstairs.’

Sir Walter blocked her path. ‘There seems to be some mistake, ma’am. A nurse is of no use to us. Lady Alice assured me she’d summoned her brother’s physician.’

‘And so she has. I have been physician to Sir John Bankes and Lady Alice for nigh on eighteen months.’ She took the satchel. ‘Now, order your men to lower their swords and allow me through. I don’t pretend to understand your presence here, but my business is with Lady Alice.’

‘You’re wrong, ma’am. Allow me to see inside your bag.’

Jayne handed it to him with a shrug. ‘You will find only medicines and instruments, sir.’

He lifted the flap. ‘What is this?’ he asked, removing the folded paper.

‘You may read it if you choose.’ She watched him scan the page. ‘If you need further proof of my learning, there is another document at the bottom. I trained under Doctor Theale of Oxford and Bridport and he signed a list of my attainments, which match his own.’ She tapped her foot impatiently as he fumbled through the satchel. ‘You’re being criminally clumsy, sir. I shall expect compensation if any of my medicines are spilt.’

Sir Walter frowned at her for a moment and then turned away, ordering the dragoons to keep their swords raised before disappearing through the door to the parlour with her satchel still in his hands.

Unhurriedly, William drew a pair of leather gloves from his doublet and pulled them over his hands. ‘Es ist nicht höflich eine Dame zu bedrohen,’ he murmured to the dragoons.

‘Wir haben unsere Bestellungen.’

William smiled. ‘Don’t say you weren’t warned,’ he said mildly. ‘It’s not my habit to tolerate threats against women.’

His disarming smile and reversion to English caused them to hesitate, unsure what he was saying. Certainly, neither expected him to step between them and knock their heads together. One dropped his sword of his own volition, the other had it chopped from his hand, and then both were hauled by their collars into the street and flung to the ground.

William retreated inside again and closed the door. ‘Make haste to Milady’s chamber and remain there until you’re sent for,’ he murmured, taking Jayne’s arm and walking her none too gently towards the stairs. ‘Leave me to manage affairs down here.’