Passage of a Desolate Woman (#2, the Winds of Misery Victorian Romance) (A Family Saga Novel)

by Dorothy Green

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  chapter

  2 6

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  “What happened? What have you done, Billy?” Jennifer shouted.

  “We did what must be done Jennifer. Writing pamphlets and getting people riled has not worked. We need to make a statement. Those men need to lose something, they need to lose their money. This is the way,” Billy said with rage in his voice. Jennifer had never seen him so angry, so frightening.

  “But there are people in there. They will die. We must go back, Mariah...”

  “No, you cannot go back. We cannot go back.”

  “I will not let them die. We must go back and help,” Jennifer shouted.

  “No, you will not.” Timothy grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her against the brick wall of the alley. There was murder on his face. “ You will speak nothing of this, do you understand? If you rat us out, we will go after your family in Cottered. We know all that there is to know about you. Even if we are behind bars, our network reaches far. Therefore you will say nothing. You will not go back there. You will act as if you were sitting quietly at your machine when the fire broke out, and you escaped with those that escaped. Then you will go home, and look for work elsewhere. That is what is to be done. Do you understand, this Jennifer?”

  Jennifer was trembling, she was terrified of this man. She looked to Billy for comfort. Billy turned his back to her, allowing his goon to do the dirty work. Rage filled her heart. How could she have been so stupid? Getting mixed up with this radical group. Violence was not the answer. But now she had no choice, or they would hurt her family. How stupid she had been to tell them everything about her, where she was from, why she was sending money home, all of it. She did not know that she could not trust them. Jacob had been right, the less people know about you the better.

  “I understand. I will say nothing. But I should probably go back, and be outside with those that are coming out of the factory, or they will wonder where I was. Do you not think that is smart?”

  Timothy looked to Billy, Billy turned and nodded his head.

  “Fine. But say nothing.” Timothy said. Then he turned to Billy and the third man, “We must get out of here straight away. Go.”

  Together the three men continued down the alley, running. Billy did not even turn to see Jennifer, not make that eye contact so that she could allow him to know he had wronged her.

  But there was no time to waste, she had to get back to the factory. She turned and ran down the alley, and onto the busy street.

  There were crowds gathered. Some were looking, others were taking buckets of water and running. Everyone was trying to put the fire out.

  As she turned and saw the building, she froze. The entire building was up in flames. They licked out of the windows of the top floor and the roof.

  “Mariah...”

  She ran around to the front of the building. It was complete chaos. Women were still coming out of the front door, coughing and falling to their knees. In the crowd, she heard a woman shouting. She turned to see her lodgmate Charlotte, crying and screaming out for the men holding her back to let her go.

  Tears flowed out of Jennifer's eyes. She had done this. This was all her fault. She was now a murderer, an outlaw. She had been foolish.

  She watched as Charlotte broke free and ran to the women that were out front of the building. Jennifer knew she could not go to them, for Charlotte would wonder why she was coming from outside of the building and not inside. All she could do was stand by and watch. As the fire wore on, her heart broke into a million pieces, and she grew numb.

  Before long, she could not watch any longer. She walked home to the workhouse. She sat on her bed, staring at Mariah’s bed. Jennifer was frozen numb.

  At nightfall the door opened, surprising Jennifer. She expected it to be Mariah.

  Charlotte entered. “Jennifer. You are alive,” Charlotte embraced her.

  I do not deserve your embrace. Jennifer did not return the embrace

  Charlotte had tears in her eyes. “So you have heard? Mariah is dead.” Charlotte’s voice trembled.

  Horror crossed Jennifer's face. “No, not Mariah. I did not mean for anyone to get hurt. It was not supposed to happen like that. No one was supposed to get hurt.”

  “What?”

  “No one was supposed to die. It was not supposed to be a big fire such as that,” Jennifer became hysterical upon hearing the news.

  Charlotte’s face grew dark. Jennifer knew she was starting to understand her meaning.

  Whack. Charlotte slapped her hard. “What did you do, Jennifer?”

  “It was not all me. It was Timothy Malard and...” Jennifer held her cheek.

  “You set this fire? You killed Mariah!” Charlotte shouted.

  “No. I did not mean too. That is...”

  But Jennifer could not get a word in as she received the wrath of Charlotte’s grief and rage.

  The door burst open quite suddenly.

  “Jennifer Bronson. You are under arrest for arson of the Miller, Lewis, Rice, Huntley & Dawson factory as well as your companions.”

  Policemen poured into the room.

  Two of them grabbed Jennifer and Charlotte. Charlotte had a look of shock on her face but said nothing. Jennifer did not want Charlotte to have anything to do with this. She was innocent.

  “She did not have part in this. That woman is simply my roommate,” Jennifer shouted.

  “That will be for the judge to decide.” The police took Charlotte anyway.

  Whitechapel Prison owned by Lord of the Manors of Stepney and Hackney

  One week in prison passed while Jennifer awaited her sentence. She had kept quiet about it all; there was no point until she was in front of a judge. The only matter she had continued to protest was the fact that Charlotte was innocent.

  Jennifer sat with so much guilt on her shoulders that she lost the will the live. She had been responsible for Mariah’s death and now responsible for Charlotte facing life imprisonment, as well as losing the chance to send money home to Adam for his medication. In this manner she was responsible for the lives of three, and that was unbearable.

  Jennifer moved to Charlotte in the dark and dirty prison cell made of cold grey cinder block. Charlotte had not spoken a word to Jennifer, though Jennifer apologized and tried to explain.

  “What do you think will happen to us?” Jennifer asked.

  Charlotte stayed silent and then moved away from her and sat on another bench entirely. Jennifer sighed.

  “Miss Charlotte Sutterfield,” a guard shouted as he hit his club against the bars.

  Jennifer panicked. Had they come to take Charlotte away? No, not before she could go before a judge and prove Charlotte innocent. She looked at Charlotte who sat in a daze and did not move.

  Jennifer moved to her and shook her a bit. The guard called again, “Miss Charlotte Sutterfield.”

  Charlotte stood up and walked to the gate. It opened and Jennifer never saw her again.

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  “Miss Jennifer Bronson! You are being charged with arson and the murder of fifty souls. I sentence you to ten years transportation. You will be shipped to Australia to work where you can not cause harm in London again!” the judge’s gavel came down hard and jolted Jennifer.

  This was to be expected. For Jennifer had not blamed anyone, for she could not put the blame on Billy, and Timothy, not after the threat that they made toward her family.

  She had attempted to clear Charlotte's name, but the judge mentioned it was not necessary for Charlotte had been released. Jennifer was glad for it, she did not know what friends Charlotte had, but in truth they were quite influential. But it was just it should be, for Charlotte was truly innocent.

  The pamphlets that they had found underneath Jennifer's mattress only made her fate sealed; she was labeled a radical. Indeed, she was, but in writing and belief only, not in violence. Though she said she did not set the fire, it did not matter. Someone had witnessed her coming
out of the door in the back of the factory, and men with her. Since she would not identify the men, she took the sole blame.

  Now, she would be shipped far away to Australia, never to see her family again. Never to send money home to take care of Adam. She could only hope that the news would reach them, and that they would at least know that she had not abandon them on purpose. Perhaps Mr. Proctor would take it into his heart to see to Adam his medication. She could only hope.

  For the next day, she would be in a wagon wheel to Brighton, where she would board a ship, with the rest of the prisoners, and cross a vast ocean to the other side of the world.

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  chapter

  2 7

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  Jennifer's ankle hurt once more, and the metal cuff around it was responsible. It scraped at her old injury, as the wagon cart jostled down the road. Each hole that the wheels landed in was painful.

  The full moon lit the rolling pastures that they passed, on their way to Brighton. She was crowded, her shoulders were pushed together as women on both sides of her squeezed onto the bench of the wagon. Some were standing, some were sitting on the ground completely. The sound of the chains around their ankles, mixed in with the sounds of the wheels of the wagon. Jennifer was numb. How was this to be her fate?

  It was years ago, that she had chided Jacob Leary for being an outlaw, the Black Bandit. But now, she was worse off than him. She was a convict, on her way to Australia; oh, the worst punishment possible being exiled from England.

  Jennifer turned, turning as much as she could to face her head over her shoulder, to get some fresh air from the passing wind. For the wagons smelled of urine and vomit. The driver and guard did not stop to accommodate its passengers for any of their personal needs. If you had to go, you simply went where you sat.

  Humiliation was not the proper word for what Jennifer had found herself in. Turning over her shoulder she wanted to get a good look of the nighttime land of England, before she never saw it again. For she did not think that she would last the years of transportation; she was not that strong, not anymore. The life she had come into had warned her away, her spirit had become broken.

  It was in the light, that she saw a mass, moving across the grass. She squinted her eyes, trying to see in the moonlight. The large mass separated and became five; it was then that she realized they were riders. A group of riders, writing across the pasture in the night. Perhaps they were hunting, searching for fox. How she wished she could have stayed in the country; simple country living, it is what she asked for. If she had the chance to do it all again, she would live a proper and clean life. Pious.

  Her neck became a bit sore, so she turned back to face the front. Looking at the destitute women in rags, covered in filth. None of them had light on their face whatsoever, they were broken as well. She wondered how many of them were innocent, covering up for the deeds of some evil men, just as she was.

  Suddenly, shouts surrounded them. The sound of horses, men shouting, and complete chaos erupted.

  Women stood, looking out, “What is that? What is happening?” They shouted.

  Jennifer looked ahead, she could hardly see through the crowd of women. But the driver was shouting. “Get away from us. By order of Court!”

  The wagon came to a stop, but not completely. The horses out front were rearing their upper legs, making the wagon go back and forth, rocking. The women were screaming. She could not see what was happening.

  Bam! A gun shot! Bam! Then another. It's only caused more screaming, and Jennifer ducked down, thinking she would be shot at any moment.

  Bam! There was another shot, and it seemed to hit the back of the wagon directly. She felt her ankle released from the tight strain of the chain. Then the chain pulled, pulling through the loop of the cuff around her ankle, then through one of the ankles of the woman next to her and the next. The chain pulled completely free, the door swung open of the wagon.

  “You are free! Run! Go! Get out of here! Go in all directions! Run!” a deep voice shouted. There was something familiar about it, but in the chaos Jennifer could not place it. She was free. This was her chance. She needed to get as far away from the guard and the driver as possible, and seek shelter. She needed to hide and quickly, for they would be searching for these prisoners for a week.

  She stepped to the back of the wagon, ready to jump down. Strong hands grabbed her waist, she looked up into the face of a masked stranger. Jacob?

  But she did not say his name, for he had taught her that much. She could not forget those blue eyes and those blue eyes now stared at her even though his nose and mouth were covered, and a hooded black cloak covered his head. The feeling of him was unmistakable.

  He picked her up and placed her on the ground. He wrapped his hand around hers, and ran. She obliged and ran with him. Champion was standing nearby and she was relieved to see the familiar horse. She climbed onto the mount, Jacob climbed behind her, and in a flash they were darting across the green pasture. She could see women running in every direction, she hoped they all got away.

  Behind her the shouting of men was still chaotic, but she did not turn to look back. The overwhelming feeling of joy was inside of her. Not only was she free and escaped her fate, but she was also with Jacob once more. It all felt like a dream.

  Suddenly the green pasture gave way to cliffs, and Jacob bared Champion to the right. They raced along the top of a cliff, and she could see the black of the ocean to the left. How she longed to jump in the water, and wash the prison off of her. She became very aware that she probably did not smell her best, and this man, a man she had grown to care for so deeply was wrapped around her, enduring that scent. She felt very embarrassed, but there was not much she could do about it.

  They rode hard, for almost half an hour or more; she could not keep track of time in her state of panic. Her heart beat rapidly, and her mind wandered.

  Champion turned and a path appeared before them, Rocky and steep. Jacob stopped Champion, and let him slowly walk down the steep path. It sloped gradually, making its way down the side of the cliff.

  Finally, their destination appeared to her. It was a small fishing shack tucked away on the beach. Jacob jumped off, and pulled Jennifer off the mount.

  “Jacob, is it you?Is it really you?” she said.

  He pulled the black handkerchief from his face, down to his neck. A white smile flashed in the moonlight. “ Yes, it is me.”

  She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “Thank God. Thank God.”

  “ Jennifer...”

  “But how? How did you know where to find me? And why? Why risk yourself to free me?”

  “There is nothing I would not risk for you,” He said.

  His words made her heart sing. She never thought she would see him again, but now she was seeing him and he was saying all the right things. Was this a dream?

  “But I must know. How? How did you know? How did you know where to find me? I do not understand...”

  “Why don't we get you inside, in front of a fire, and get some food into you? Then I will explain all,” He said.

  “All right, but one moment,” She said. She turned towards the ocean, it beckoned her.

  She pulled her arms from him and walked toward the ocean.

  “What are you doing?” He asked.

  But she did not answer, instead she walked directly into the waves, letting the cold salty water embrace her body. She walked out to her thighs and then sunk into the water, until it was over her head. Holding her breath, she allowed the waves to make her feel weightless as she crouched down in the sand. Everything was going to be all right now, Jacob was with her. She would be clean once more and could start fresh.

  She emerged from the water, and unbraided her braid and washed her hair as best she could. Jennifer stood there scrubbing her skin with her hands, letting the salt water wash away the prison from her body.

  Then she turned and walked to the shore, Jacob was standing there with
a very large gray wool blanket. She smiled and he wrapped it around her, covering her head. Together they walked in silence toward the fishing hut. I have so many questions, but I have never felt so grateful.

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  chapter

  2 8

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  Jacob looked at the young woman that he had not seen in years, but that he had thought about very often. He lit the fire inside the small fishing hut, and she stood there trembling and wet from her ocean bath.

  She looked different; she was no longer the child, but a woman. The years had been kind to her, she had developed in all the right places, though she seemed very slender. He afforded this to being in prison, for even a week or two in prison could do much damage. Not to mention the factory life that she had been living; the one he had warned her of.

  “I have clothes for you, though looking at you perhaps they might be a bit snug now,” He pulled a bag out from under the small bed in the corner and placed it on top.

  “Clothes? Thank you,” She said.

  “I must tie Champion, or he will take off down the beach of his own accord. I will give you some privacy,” He said.

  “Thank you Jacob. Thank you for everything,” She said.

  He smiled, and walked out. He whistled for Champion; he was already starting to wonder toward the ocean waves, frolicking.

  Champion came toward him, and Jacob tied him very close to the wall, behind the fishing shack. This way it sheltered him from the wind if it grew harsh. It was also where his food and water were located, and a small overhang gave him a roof.

  “You did a very good job. Perhaps tomorrow you shall have a carrot.” Jacob rubbed Champion, and then took the saddle off of him, setting it aside.

  He went around to the front and knocked on the door. “ You may enter!” the soft voice said.

  He walked in to find her dressed, but her legs and feet were still there as she sat by the fire, getting warm. She used the gray blanket, running it through her red hair, drying it.