Rebeccah and the Highwayman

by Barbara Davies

  “Women!” Ignoring Rebeccah’s indignant glance, Wryneck reached for the keys at his belt. “Milledge’s cell’ is just at the end of this corridor.” He strode towards it ; Rebeccah followed. Her cheek stung and she touched a fingertip to it; Alice must have scratched her.

  The door they stopped at was indistinguishable from any other. The turnkey selected a key and inserted it in the lock. It turned stiffly and with a nerve-grating screech.

  “Visitor for you, Milledge,” he called, pushing open the heavy door. “And this one ain’t like that last one. She’s a lady, so just you behave yourself.” He stood back and motioned to Rebeccah.

  “Thank you.” She took out a shilling and gave it to him. “For your assistance.”

  Wryneck flipped the coin, then pocketed it. “My pleasure, Madam. You have half an hour. I’ll be out here if you should need me. Just shout.”

  She took a deep breath and stepped inside.

  The door swung closed behind her, the lock screeching again, but Rebeccah barely noticed it. Her attention was on the seated figure, and the wide blue eyes fixed on her.

  “Rebeccah!” A pleased smile curved Kate’s mouth and with a metallic chink she rose to her feet. Only then did Rebeccah realise that the shackles around the other woman’s ankles were stapled to the floor.

  “Good morrow, Kate.”

  She took in her surroundings at a glance. The cell was smaller than she had expected, and dirtier, and the draught from the barred window couldn’t mask the unpleasant smell coming from the uncovered chamberpot. Lord knows what the Condemned Hold must be like if this was an improvement.

  She turned back to a much more pleasant sight. There were shadows beneath Kate’s eyes, and she was grimy and unkempt, but apart from that she looked well enough.

  “You must thank your sister for the great kindness she has done me,” said Kate. “This cell is a godsend.”

  “Anne will be very glad to hear it. When our lawyer mentioned the possibility of such a thing, she insisted on doing it at once.”

  “Lawyer?”

  “We have been busy these past few days,” said Rebeccah a little ruefully.

  ‘Busy’ didn’t come close to describing it. Her time had been spent on visits to lawyers and consultations with friends and relatives (Caro and her husband had been particularly helpful with their advice), all trying to find a way out of Kate’s current predicament. As well, she had had to help nurse a still emotionally fragile Anne (she had at first been plagued by nightmares) and apprise Anne’s fianc? of just enough about what had happened to make him sympathetic yet not enough to scare him off. She had had to also help her mother find and hire a replacement for Titus.

  “Ah.” Kate nodded. “How is Anne, by the way? Recovering from her recent ordeal?”

  “She is well, thank you. Improving by the day. She’s quieter than she was, and chastened. Still somewhat shaken, I think - she has yet to leave the house for any length of time. But we are all very grateful for her escape. And Mr Ingrum is being surprisingly considerate.”

  “I am glad.”

  Rebeccah felt in the pocket of her skirts and found what she wanted. Her maid had thought she was mad to bring it, but Rebeccah had insisted. “Have you any use for this, Kate?” She held out the nail. “I seem to remember that once before an item such as this helped you to escape.”

  Kate took it and started to laugh. “Thank you, my dear. But alas,” she pointed at the sturdy padlock and staple, “this time I fear they are beyond its scope.”

  Rebeccah sighed. “Ah well. It was worth a try.” She looked around the cell once more. “Are we to stand for my entire visit?”

  Kate grimaced. “I’m afraid there is only the one chair.” She pulled it out from behind her with a scraping of wood on stone. “Here. You take it”

  Rebeccah was about to do so when a much better solution presented itself. “Keep it. I shall sit on your lap.”

  The highwaywoman blinked at her then arched an eyebrow. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure.” She smiled. “But I cannot remember the last time I changed my clothes or had access to a bath. At close quarters I fear I smell … less than fragrant.”

  “Nevertheless. Is it not the most practical solution to our problem?”

  With an acquiescent tilt of the head, Kate retrieved the chair and sat down. Then she patted her lap and waited for Rebeccah to make herself comfortable in it. After an awkward moment she did so, smoothing her skirts over her behind before lowering herself rather gingerly.

  Kate’s hand came up to clasp Rebeccah’s waist, making her breathing catch. “Don’t want you sliding off,” she murmured

  Silence fell as each woman adjusted to this new intimacy, Rebeccah acutely aware of the pale blue eyes regarding her from mere inches away. The ‘less than fragrant’ odour Kate had mentioned wasn’t as bad as she had made out, and anyway it paled into insignificance under the barrage of other sensations. The current of attraction that had flowed between them since their very first meeting was as strong as ever.

  “Are you comfortable?” asked Kate at last.

  “Indeed I am.” A belated thought occurred to Rebeccah. “Am I crushing you?”

  “You are as light as thistledown.”

  “We both know I am not, but thank you for the compliment.”

  Kate smiled, then stroked Rebeccah’s cheek with a forefinger. “What happened?”

  Her touch made the pit of Rebeccah’s stomach flutter, and it was a moment before she registered the question. “Um …” She had no idea what Kate was referring to.

  “You have a nasty scratch. And then there is your hair.” Kate tucked a stray lock behind Rebeccah’s ear. “Your maid does not usually let you out of the house in so dishevelled a condition.”

  “Ah.” Rebeccah bit her lip. Should she tell Kate about Alice Cole’s strange behaviour?

  “Come now. Let there be no evasions between us.”

  Rebeccah sighed. “It was your landlady. I passed her in the corridor outside and ….”

  Dark eyebrows shot up. “Alice attacked you?”

  Rebeccah nodded. “She seems to think your being in here is my fault.” She frowned. “For a landlady, her behaviour is a little … extreme.”

  “You did not deserve such treatment at her hands. It is I she should be angry at.” Kate looked away. “I treated her badly, Rebeccah.”

  “Do you owe her rent? If so, tell me the sum and I will -“

  “It’s not that.” Ashamed blue eyes met hers. “We were more than landlady and tenant. Alice loved me, and even though I did not return her feelings I … I took advantage.”

  Certain things that had puzzled Rebeccah now dropped into place. Her thoughtful silence brought a grimace from the other woman.

  “I suppose now you despise me.” Kate sounded resigned. “But then, what is one more crime when I have already been found guilty of so many.”

  Rebeccah was about to answer when a muffled shout interrupted them.

  “Twenty minutes, Madam,” came Wryneck’s voice through the cell door.

  The two women glanced at one another, then both spoke at once. “Kate, I came to tell you not to give up -” “This is no place for a gentlewoman alone. Why did not your maid accompany you, or your suitor?”

  Rebeccah’s train of thought was completely derailed. “My ‘suitor’?”

  “The young man I saw you walking with the other day, in St James’s Park.”

  “Oh! You saw me? … But that was my best friend Caro’s husband.”

  Kate blinked. “And what were you doing out walking alone with your best friend’s husband?”

  “She was indisposed. He was there with her full knowledge and permission. He is to look for a husband for me.”

  Kate’s expression was hard to decipher.

  “And a hard job he will have of it too. For he rates my chances of success as slim at best.”

  “Does he think no man would want you for his wife?”

  K
ate’s indignation amused and touched Rebeccah. “No. He fears that it is I who would decline them,” she said. “For I am too choosy by half.”

  The other woman cocked her head to one side. “Are you?”

  “Oh yes.” Rebeccah held Kate’s gaze. “For I have insisted that my future husband must bear an uncanny resemblance, in every respect, to a notorious highwayman known as ‘Blue-Eyed Nick’.” She paused.” Perhaps you have heard of him?”

  Blue eyes filled with astonishment. Then Kate chuckled, and her other hand came up and clasped Rebeccah round the waist. “The name is vaguely familiar,” she murmured, and Rebeccah found herself suddenly fascinated by Kate’s lips which had moved tantalisingly closer.

  She was in a noisome cell at Newgate, sitting on the lap of a convicted felon, a woman no less, who, if things didn’t work out as Rebeccah hoped, was going to hang in a two days’ time. And she had never felt so at home or so alive in all her life.

  “I often think of that kiss,” murmured Kate.

  Rebeccah didn’t need to ask to which kiss she was referring. Her cheeks grew warm at the memory. “As do I.”

  Kate’s face drew closer still, and Rebeccah could feel the warmth of her breath on her cheek. Then soft lips were pressing against hers. After a frozen moment, Rebeccah returned the pressure, which turned into a sensual nibbling that brought that fluttering to the pit of her stomach again.

  How shocking! she thought. I am kissing another woman. What’s more, I am enjoying it very much. But the realisation caused her no distress, and she couldn’t seem to bring herself to stop the pleasurable activity. Indeed if Wryneck’s muffled shout of “Ten minutes,” hadn’t reminded her that time was running out she might be there still.

  She pulled away. “I didn’t come here to be kissed.”

  The highwaywoman went very still. “Didn’t you?” Her hands dropped from Rebeccah’s waist.

  “Though if I had known how pleasurable it is I certainly would have.” Kate’s smile returned and so did both hands. Rebeccah resisted the urge to resume where they had left off. “Kate, as I said before, I came to tell you not to give up hope.”

  The other woman sighed. “Then your journey was in vain, my dear. For the Dead Warrant came this morning, and my name is on it.”

  “I know. News of it reached us as home. But Mama and I have been discussing the matter with friends and lawyers, and there is one avenue left: a petition of mercy to the Queen.”

  “She has already declined to pardon me once,” objected Kate. “What makes you think you can change her mind?”

  Rebeccah interlaced their fingers. “Because it will be presented to her by her closest friend.”

  Blue eyes widened. “The Duchess of Marlborough?”

  “The very same. Do you not remember I told you that she and Mama are second cousins?” Kate’s gaze turned inwards then she nodded. “As children they were very close. If Mama asks Aunt Sarah to help her with Queen Anne, she likely will. … This month the Duchess is residing at Windsor with the Queen. At this very moment, a carriage is waiting outside; Mama and I are to travel there directly I leave here.”

  “That is kind indeed of you and your family, Rebeccah, to risk jeopardising relations between your family and the Duchess on my behalf.”

  “It is the least we can do, after the many services you have rendered us.”

  Kate chuckled. “Such as robbing you of your valuables.”

  Rebeccah frowned. “Do not make light of your actions. If you had not been on hand to save my sister from Titus’s clutches … Not to mention saving my life.”

  “You forget you have saved my life once already. You must not be unduly distressed if you are unable to save it a second time.”

  “How can you say that?”

  Kate shrugged. “I am a coldblooded murderer and the time to pay for my crime has come.” She became thoughtful

  “What are you thinking?”

  “That I was certain once you knew what I did to Philip Wildey I would not see you again ” She smiled a little uncertainly and bounced Rebeccah on her knee. “Yet here you are.”

  “At first I did not know what to think, it is true. I feared I had misjudged you. So I asked Mary to find out all the facts of the matter.” Her maid’s contacts were sometimes unsavoury but frequently useful, Rebeccah had found. “What you did was indeed shocking, Kate. But it was also understandable.” She regarded the other woman with compassion. “You were seventeen, and the man you trusted had betrayed you. Because of him the dragoons beat you near to death. And if you had not escaped from Newgate, you would have been transported or hanged.” Kate blinked at her. “In some circles, folk still feel that Wildey got what he deserved.”

  “Not respectable circles, I’ll wager.”

  Rebeccah smiled. “Perhaps not,” she conceded.

  “Five minutes,” yelled Wryneck.

  “Maybe it is selfishness on my part,” continued Rebeccah, “but I am glad that it was Wildey who died and not you.” The earnest sentiment earned her hands a warm squeeze. “Given the right circumstances, do we not all have the potential to be felons?”

  Kate’s smile was sceptical. “I do not think you could do anything unlawful.”

  “Then you’d be wrong. For only a few days ago I tried to bribe a Queen’s Justice.” Rebeccah sighed. “For all the good it did.”

  Blue eyes widened. “Judge Turnley?”

  “The same.” The memory of his derisive laughter was still raw. “Had it been anyone but a female highwayman” (and one who loves women) “I think he might have taken it too. You might now even be facing transportation rather than the noose.”

  “Then I am glad he did not accept,” said Kate. “For transportation would have taken me away from you as effectively as hanging.”

  Rebeccah blinked then pressed a kiss on Kate’s cheek. When she pulled back, Kate was regarding her gravely.

  “Will you do something for me?”

  “Name it.”

  “If your petition of mercy should fail in spite of your aunt’s entreaties, and no pardon is forthcoming -“

  “Don’t say that!”

  “My sweet, you must not get your hopes -“

  Rebeccah silenced her by pressing two fingers to Kate’s mouth. “I mean it, Kate.”

  Kate sighed and waited for Rebeccah to remove her fingers. “Very well. I have sold a version of my life story, such as it is, to the Ordinary. My share of the proceeds from the pamphlets he sells should be enough to pay for my coffin and any debts incurred during my stay here -“

  Rebeccah stared at her, aghast. “Your coffin!”

  “- with a little left over,” continued Kate, doggedly. “I have dependants. There is a woman named Jane Allen who cares for my mother. And Eliza Wagstaff - her boy is my brother Ned’s son. Lord knows it will be little enough to keep them off the street but ….” She trailed off, eyes pleading.

  Rebeccah pressed Kate’s hand. “Write down their addresses and I will make sure the money reaches them,” she managed round the lump in her throat. “And if they should have further need of anything, I will see to it that they get it.”

  “God bless you!” Kate raised their clasped hands and kissed Rebeccah’s fingers. “I will rest easier knowing that.”

  “But it will not come to that,” insisted Rebeccah. “You will be here to take care of them yourself.”

  The screeching of the lock made both women glance at the door. Kate kissed Rebeccah quickly on the mouth, then stood, tipping the startled younger woman off her comfortable perch. By the time the door had swung fully open Rebeccah was standing at a respectable distance from Kate, and looking, if not as well groomed and dignified as she would have liked, then at least nonchalant.

  “Time’s up,” said Wryneck, giving both women a sharp glance before beckoning to Rebeccah.

  She nodded and walked towards him. At the door she halted and looked back.

  “I will see you soon,” she told the seated woman. “Do no
t give up hope yet, I beg of you.”

  Kate smiled gamely. “I’ll try.”

  The door slammed shut and the carriage lurched into motion before Rebeccah was ready. She regained her balance, then with Mary’s help began to straighten her dress and smooth her hair.

  “I take it you saw him … I mean her,” said Mrs Dutton, over the clatter of hooves on cobblestones.

  “Yes, Mama. The Keeper allowed me the full half hour…. Ow! You’re stabbing me, Mary.”

  “Beg pardon, Madam.” The plump maid readjusted the hairpin, then, from somewhere about her person, produced a pot of face powder and dabbed some carefully over Rebeccah’s scratch.

  “Is she well?” continued Mrs Dutton.

  Rebeccah grimaced. “The term is relative. Kate is as well as anyone can be in Newgate.”

  Mrs Dutton gave Rebeccah’s knee a pat through her skirts. “Well you have nothing to reproach yourself for, my dear. For you have done as much as you are able for your friend, indeed more than most.”

  Rebeccah gave her mother a sharp glance, but saw that the remark was innocent. It had upset Mrs Dutton to learn that her youngest daughter had nursed an injured felon under her roof without her knowledge, but in the light of subsequent events her hurt had proved fleeting. It was probably just as well, though, that she was unaware of the true nature and depth of her daughter’s feelings for that self same felon.

  The carriage’s three occupants were flung first one way then another as it swung to the left, then right, before straightening. Once they were out of London the route would be more straightforward but progress would be slower. It was only twenty-four miles to Windsor, but the terrible state of the roads meant it might well be nightfall by the time they reached their destination. By then she would no doubt be aching and headachy from the clatter and constant jolting, and envying her frail sister’s reluctant but in the circumstances prudent decision to remain in London.

  “I sent a messenger ahead,” said Mrs Dutton, “to warn your Aunt Sarah we are coming.” Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough wasn’t Rebeccah’s real aunt, of course, but it was easier to call her that than find a suitable appellation for a mother’s second cousin.

  “What if she is busy entertaining other guests, Mama?”