The Jacobite's Wife

by Morag Edwards

  ‘Wait here for Grace and Mr Mills,’ I commanded them. ‘If I’m not back in ten minutes with my husband, save yourselves. If your carriage doesn’t arrive, hire a hackney and get home. No one knows you were here.’ If I failed at least they would escape.

  Back at the Lodge, the young lamplighter was starting his duties. I had but a few minutes of dusk to get William out. I ran up the stairs and walked briskly through the chamber. The guard dropped his halberd lazily and yawned. He didn’t look at me. Inside, William was dressed in Mrs Mills’ clothes. Since she was a plump woman, they fitted his girth but the petticoats were too short and showed his big, manly feet. There was nothing I could do. His cloak would have to hide the worst. I pushed William into a chair and tried to lighten his heavy brows with powder. It was useless.

  There was a tap on the door. We looked at each other. My stomach turned to liquid. Was it over? Was I a prisoner too?

  ‘Lady Nithsdale, I’m told your carriage has arrived. It’s waiting outside. You must hurry.’

  ‘Just a minute,’ I called. ‘My friend is deeply upset.’

  Our moment had come. William and I looked at each other and he pulled me towards him and whispered, ‘Win, you must be the bravest woman ever born.’

  I pulled the hood of the cloak over his head and pushed a cloth into his hand. He covered his face and I coaxed my distressed woman friend through the chamber and down into the hallway, clasping her hunched shoulders. I felt as if my chest would burst but no one stopped us. No one called out.

  I pushed open the heavy wooden doors to the outside and strode back through the gates, with William clinging to my arm. My tall and ungainly companion attracted no attention from the guards but I heard kindly greetings from those who noticed me pass, ‘God bless you, Lady Nithsdale.’

  Grace waited in the fading light next to the Mills’ carriage, her pale face suspended in the dusk like a mask. The other two women were secure in a hackney carriage and Mr Mills sat next to his coachman. Walking after William to prevent his shoulders and feet being visible to the guards behind us, I heard Mr Mills swear. ‘Gadzooks, she’s done it!’

  I shouted to Grace, ‘Get him out of here, now!’ She pushed William into the Mills’ carriage and I turned to the others and flapped my arms, ‘Go now, all of you!’

  The next bit was the worst. I trembled at the thought of returning to the Lodge, taking the risk of being present at the very moment William’s escape was discovered. But our success depended upon the deception being played out for longer and I had to gain more time. My instinct told me to run, to try to leave with my husband, but my friends were gone. I pulled my cloak around me and with my head bowed, reached the Lodge unchallenged and hurried up the stairs, breathless, towards William’s empty room.

  ‘Here again?’ His guard lowered his weapon. ‘You can’t stay away. I thought you were rushing to meet a carriage?’

  ‘Yes, you’re right but I must say one last farewell to my lord, alone.’ My genuine tears were those of terror, not grief, but he let me pass. Inside I paced and pushed chairs, as if we were moving around. I feigned a deep voice that I hoped sounded like William comforting me and then I fell silent. The horror of the empty room crept under my skin. I feared the sound of voices, of a key turning in the lock. I felt trapped. I couldn’t breathe. I could bear it no longer. I pulled my hood around my face and left, pretending to whisper a desperate farewell to William through the open door. Out of respect, the guard looked away.

  I dropped the string of the viewing hatch over the top of the door, trapping it inside and keeping my head down, walked slowly back through the wardens. Their voices dropped to whispers, wary of my distress. On the stairs I met the boy lighting candles and stopped to speak to him. I pushed some coins into his hand.

  ‘My lord is praying. He’s not to be disturbed. He wishes to be left in darkness, for darkness is his future. Do not light his candles tonight.’

  The boy nodded, his back to the wall, more afraid of me and imminent death than he was of the wardens. I knew that he would eventually light the candles as expected but perhaps he would wait awhile. I had to get away.

  I ran through each gate as if demons snapped at my heels but was allowed to pass unhindered. These good men, who felt sadness and guilt at their necessary involvement in my husband’s incarceration, would feel duped and bitter in a matter of hours. I hated that I had abused their trust.

  In my solitary journey from the Tower, shock at our extraordinary deception overwhelmed me and I allowed myself to wail, biting on my gloved hand. If Grace and William had been caught, when dawn came my husband would be hung and disembowelled. I would be imprisoned with Grace and perhaps my loyal friends. I felt no sense of triumph and trembled with fear, as if I were ill with fever.

  At Duke Street, I was met with excitement and relief. Everyone was present apart from Grace but Mr Mills reassured me that within the last hour he had seen her at the safe house with William. Everyone wanted to talk at once. We felt cold, although the servants built up the fire until it roared like an inferno. We were exhausted but no one wanted to rest. It was only five o’clock but years might have passed since we met in the drawing room. Not even Mrs Morgan wanted to leave us to be with her husband. It seemed impossible that these were the same rooms, the same furniture. Soon, the cook would ask Mrs Mills to check on the dinner organised only that morning. These humdrum matters could not exist because we were utterly changed.

  We had achieved something that was believed to be impossible and every detail, every fear, every minor triumph had to be turned over and inspected. Mr Mills quietly admitted that once he realised the nature of the plan and had no faith in its success, he had left Grace alone to try and seek refuge for William with her aunt. He had been desperate to return to the Tower, he breathlessly explained, to rescue his wife and had expected poor Grace to return to the Tower in a sedan chair. But once he had seen that Mrs Mills and Mrs Morgan were safe and when my husband had appeared with me, the ugliest woman in the kingdom wearing his wife’s dress, he had not hesitated to take Grace and William in his carriage to find a better safe house. This was where William lodged and where he now waited for me.

  Mrs Mills pretty face crumpled when she remembered how she had feared for her life walking through the guards and Mrs Morgan admitted that she had been terrified waiting alone downstairs, risking discovery and capture. I cried out my own admission that I feared I had risked their lives for the sake of William and we might all have ended on the gallows.

  This dark truth, that I had disregarded their safety and without their consent, silenced us. When our deed was discovered, we would not be safe. I was confident that my friends hadn’t been recognised but suspicion would certainly fall on them. They were loyal Jacobites and it was widely known where I had been staying. I had to leave at once, for their complicity would be certain if I remained. But the night wasn’t yet over; there were further trails I had to lay before I could be with my husband.

  Chapter 23

  Under cover of deep night, I returned at last to Duke Street in a sedan chair and Mr Mills took me by carriage to the room he had finally found for William. It was a miserable little house in Wapping and my confidence ebbed as the coach dropped me at the end of the street. I tapped on the door and waited, watching rats feeding on the day’s refuse. Shuffling came from inside and light from a candle appeared in the window. A shadow checked my presence and heavy bolts scraped against wood. The door opened a fraction and an old woman peered at me, her face covered in moles, some darker than others and her cheeks and chin sprouted wiry hairs.

  ‘You must be the wife,’ she sniffed. ‘His lordship’s upstairs. He’s expecting you.’ I squeezed in through the barely open door, pulling my bag behind me through the narrow gap. She looked out at the street then closed the door, repeating the complex locking sequence.

  Finally, she turned and spoke. ‘There’s to be no candles upstairs. I live on my own, so people might notice a light. I sleep d
ownstairs.’

  ‘Of course,’ I agreed.

  ‘There’s to be no walking around. My daughter visits in the day. She’ll be suspicious.’ I wondered how much our friends had paid her, hopefully enough.

  As we climbed the stairs, I pulled back from the smell of mildew and something else offensive from her clothes. ‘I’ve put some bread and ale in the room. There’s nothing else.’

  She pushed me into a room that was in complete darkness and the door closed behind me.

  ‘Win, is that you?’ Oh, the joy of William’s voice from the dense, black space. I felt my way towards him and my hands found his face. I touched his lips then kissed him.

  ‘You’re safe, my love,’ I whispered, ‘you’re safe.’ I kissed his face and cold hands.

  ‘Come into bed, you’ll freeze.’ I felt William lift the covers. The bedding smelt damp. I stripped off down to my undergarments and removed my stays. William was wearing only a shirt and I felt the rough hairs on his legs against mine. We twined our cold feet and shivered, holding each other close. William began to kiss my face and ears and I felt his hands lift my robe and cup my breast. I felt a familiar searching ache and we made love; deep, gentle love, each tender moment like the finest wine sipped from Venetian glass.

  We slept for a while, my head on William’s chest, breathing together. I woke to movement and in the faint light from a small, high window I could see William’s face, propped on his elbow, watching me.

  ‘You are the bravest, cleverest, most beautiful woman on God’s earth. I love you, Winifred Herbert. Please, please never leave me.’

  ‘I couldn’t let you die. I had to rescue you. If you had been executed, I, too, would have died. You are my one true love, William Maxwell, and the Tower would not take you from me.’

  We were silent. Shapes formed in the thin light that filtered through the dirty window. The bed was narrow and across from us there was a table with the bread and ale. The churning in my gut wasn’t fear but a desperate craving for food. I couldn’t remember when I had eaten last.

  We sat up in bed, tearing at the bread and drinking ale from a pewter goblet. We talked over every detail of the rescue. I still couldn’t believe I had managed something so daring, that luck had been with me and our true friends. I wanted to laugh out loud and dance on the bare floorboards.

  ‘You should have seen Mills’ face when I stepped out of the Tower, wearing his wife’s dress.’ William roared with laughter and I had to quieten him with a kiss.

  I swept my hand around the dismal room. ‘He didn’t believe I would pull it off but once he saw you he had to find this awful place in a hurry.’

  ‘What was the alternative?’

  ‘Grace had asked her aunt to hide you.’

  ‘That wouldn’t have been safe.’

  ‘Not for you or for Grace, so thank goodness Mr Mills had a change of heart.’

  ‘My dear there was just one thing wrong with your plan. You should have swapped the women around. I ought to have worn Mrs Morgan’s clothes.’

  ‘For goodness’ sake William, it worked, didn’t it?’

  ‘I’m teasing you, Win,’ I heard the smile in his voice. ‘But why did you take such a long time to come to me?’

  ‘There was unfinished business. The Duchess of Buccleuch had offered to try to petition the king again on my behalf and she was going to present it tonight. I had to contact her and ask her not to. If your escape had already been discovered, she might have been caught up in the backlash. I didn’t speak to her but left a message with a servant giving the excuse that I’d reconsidered and ought to present a petition together with the other wives.’

  ‘Did the wives object to you trying to petition the king?’ William asked.

  ‘They thought we should have acted together. They felt I’d humiliated the king which made him more likely to be vengeful.’

  ‘I wonder how they’ll feel when they hear about this? You won’t have made many friends.’

  ‘If I’d thought about the consequences for our friends, for the wardens at the Tower, for the other prisoners, I couldn’t have done it. I had to close my eyes. Anyway,’ I continued, keen to finish my story, ‘I then hurried to see the Duchess of Montrose, who had offered to use her influence with the king. She asked that I shouldn’t be shown in, not wanting to risk being with the wife of a condemned man but her servant showed me in anyway. The Duchess was so shocked by my appearance I told her everything. She said she’d go to court tonight and find out whether the king knew you had escaped and how he was reacting. She begged me to hide myself as soon as possible. Mr Mills brought me here as soon as he could. That’s it, the end of the story.’

  ‘So far,’ William grunted. ‘We’ve still got to get out of the country. I don’t trust the old witch downstairs.’

  ‘Nor me, but I think we’re safe as long as she’s being paid well. I’ve no money to give her, have you?’ I felt William shake his head.

  William got out of bed to use the slop pot and I brushed the crumbs from the sheets. ‘This reminds me of St Germain.’

  ‘If only,’ William laughed and we curled up together in the narrow bed, his arms tight around my belly. I felt so tired. Sleep threatened to overcome me, yet I wanted to stay awake.

  ‘William,’ I spoke to him over my shoulder. ‘Are you glad you’re free?’

  ‘Of course I am, my sweet love. To spend the rest of my life with you and our children will be the purest of joys.’

  I slept but dreamed of a bell, a single, monotonous tolling and when consciousness arose the sound persisted, ringing on and on like the death toll, until I wanted to cover my ears. I turned over to William but he still slept. I felt sick. The bells meant that someone had been executed. Dawn slipped through our small window and I could see he was wakening. He opened his eyes and put his arms behind his head. I rested my head on his chest and smelt the stale sweat from his armpits. He put one arm around me then stroked his hand up and down against my bare arm. I raised myself on my elbow and looked at him.

  ‘It could have been you, William. You might be dead.’

  ‘I wasn’t afraid. If I’d had to die I was ready.’

  ‘I know that. I never doubted your bravery.’

  ‘It wasn’t about being brave, just being ready. I felt I’d tried to do everything I could for the cause but nothing worked. We were let down by our leaders and by young James. Such a golden opportunity missed. There was so much support. Scotland was behind us.’ I thought about the ordinary men and women who had spoken to me as I travelled through the Borders with Grace but decided to say nothing. We had the rest of our lives to pore over such details.

  ‘Do you regret being here with me?’ I was fearful of his response and wished I hadn’t asked.

  ‘Not at all.’ He smiled his perfect smile. ‘We’ll try to live an ordinary life. I’ll find you a home somewhere. I’ll be awful to live with but you’re used to that.’

  We were interrupted by a sound on the stairs and the door opened. The old witch didn’t bother to knock and carried in some lit coals on a shovel. I saw her sniff and wondered if the room reeked of sweat. She bent over the grate and piled logs on top of the hot coals.

  ‘What’s the news, mistress?’ William asked her.

  ‘There’s two lords executed, Kenmure and Derwentwater. They’re saying Derwentwater stood in for you, my lord.’ She seemed pleased with this and watched for our reaction, her hands on her hips. Fear clutched the back of my neck. I asked her for hot water and she backed out of the room carrying the slop pot, her eyes never leaving William’s face.

  William lay back on the pillow and groaned. ‘This is the worst thing, that young Derwentwater should die for me.’ He covered his eyes.

  ‘You don’t know it’s true,’ I whispered.

  ‘What’s not true,’ William hissed, ‘that he’s dead or that he hung for me?’

  ‘That he hung for you. It’s just gossip.’

  ‘Why would he die except as rev
enge for you and me? Kenmure and I were marked because we were the leaders of the lowland army. Derwentwater was nothing but a boy, with a young wife who’s expecting a child.’

  ‘William, he was one of the leaders of the Jacobites from the north of England, there was every reason for him to be chosen. I won’t accept your arguments until I have proof. I had to save you.’ I sat up and wrapped myself in a sheet. The cold was intense. I wanted William’s arms around me.

  ‘You shouldn’t have interfered, Win. You always interfere. I was ready to die!’

  ‘Well I wasn’t ready to let you die, you selfish bastard.’ This was not how it was meant to be.

  ‘You’re the selfish one,’ William spat the words. ‘You do everything from selfish motives. You involved our friends in a plot that could still lose them their lives. Treason is always punishable by death. Your antics could result in your execution as well as mine, leaving our children orphans. A young man has died because you saved me. A child has lost a father. I wasn’t worth saving. The price was too high.’

  Our landlady walked in again, with a bowl of hot water. ‘There’s five wardens lost their jobs,’ she announced primly, ‘their wives and children thrown onto the streets.’ She clicked her tongue and wiped her hands on her dirty apron.

  We struggled to appear composed and by the slight upturn of her wizened, dry lips I could see that this had been noticed. ‘Thank you, mistress,’ I tried to speak with authority, ‘we’ll not trouble you for long. Our friends will be here soon.’

  William turned his back on me and I climbed over him and tiptoed across the room in my bare feet to the table. I washed every part of myself with the rank, sour cloths. I wanted every trace of him gone. I dressed and sat on the chair, my arms folded in my lap. My mind searched through our long marriage, looking for evidence of my selfish behaviour. I was too angry to cry.

  I tore into him. ‘You asked me to come. You begged me, commanded me. I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay safe at Terregles with Anne and bear our child. Your sister and her husband practically blackmailed me into making that journey. Charles provided me with money but no escort. Grace and I nearly died and I lost our baby. I’ve made every sacrifice for you, William, and so did your mother.’