by Ruby Moone
David applied himself the task, but the shackles proved harder to open than he thought they would. He fished inside, trying to find the bolt and lift it so he would be able to open it, but it was stiff and elusive. Swearing under his breath, he tried again from a different angle, but the damned thing wouldn’t budge. He was concentrating hard, when footsteps sounded in the corridor. Jeremy pushed at him, and David sprang up and closed the door, pressing his back to the wall where he couldn’t be seen through the grill. His heart was hammering. Jeremy looped his arms around his legs and buried his face in his knees.
“David?” a voice whispered. David’s legs went weak at the sound of Jo’s voice. He dragged open the door. She stood there, holding out a set of keys.
“Thought these might come in useful,” she said.
David could have kissed her. He took them and selected a likely candidate and slid it into the shackle. It took a few tries, but the rusty mechanism ground eventually and the lock sprang open. He managed to free both legs.
Jeremy’s legs and ankles were rubbed and raw. He pulled out the salve Jo had given him and slathered it around the wounds as gently as he could, and then wrapped both in linen before pulling on clean stockings.
“Here,” he said, pulling out the workman’s clothes for Jeremy and between the three of them they got him changed. Jeremy pulled the cap low over his face in the same way David had done. He was a little unsteady on his feet. Jo grabbed him and held him up and sent him a worried glance over Jeremy’s head.
“I’m fine, I’m fine, just a little dizzy,” Jeremy said.
David smiled at him and dropped a swift kiss on his lips. “You will be fine once we get you home, bathed and into a clean bed.” Jeremy groaned at the mere mention.
“I put fresh linen on just for you,” Jo murmured as they hesitated by the door, and Jeremy chuckled.
“Come. Let’s go.”
The three of them crept back the way they had come, the roar from the crowds becoming deafening as were the shouts from the prisoners. Banging against the doors, shouting and screaming in a way that made their escape easier.
As they approached to door, there was a sudden flurry of activity. The turnkeys were running down the corridor, and the Ordinary was bellowing. Chaos reigned for a little while and the three of them hid in one of the rooms until the commotion had subsided. Once they were alone, David tried the door. The press of people meant they couldn’t get out, instead, as soon as it opened several people stumbled over the threshold, gasping and crying out. They were choking and suffocating in the press. Between them, they pulled as many people in as they could and then joined in the melee that ensued, mingling in with the people brought inside. The gaol staff were preoccupied with the souls who now hung by their necks, and the people who surged into the corridors were just another thing for them to worry about. The Ordinary came in, shouting and demanding to know what was going on, who the people were, and how they came to be in his prison.
“Are you seeking to touch the hands? Is that what you are doing?” he bellowed. “In God’s holy name, have some respect for the dead.”
One woman whose dress was badly torn turned on him. “Have some respect for the souls dying out there because of the crush. People are being trampled, crushed…do something. Do something,” she shrieked at the affronted man. Two men beside her echoed her sentiments and as the Ordinary found himself besieged, the three fugitives stood quietly watching.
“It’s carnage out there,” one of the turnkeys said as he came running, breathless. “Hundreds of ‘em dead on the ground and the others falling over themselves. What are we to do?”
“Get the hanged down and out of sight. It will only inflame them if they remain,” the Ordinary said, apparently gathering himself. Clear the crowds.” He turned to the people who were steadily pouring in through the door.
“Halt! Halt!” he cried, but his shouts were in vain.
David watched the people stumbling in, coughing, crying, stumbling, and falling. Those who fell were stood on by the people following and the crush threatened to extend into the prison. Those who were standing helped the people on the floor and David motioned to the others and they joined in dragging people into the prison and making sure no-one was injured in the crush. They kept Jeremy between them.
“Stand over there,” bellowed one of the turnkeys, and the people now squeezing into the corridors.
Charnley, and some of the other guests appeared by the Ordinary’s side, and David watched Charnley murmur something to him. A brief conversation ensued with Charnley nodding approvingly. The Ordinary shouted to the turnkeys to open the gates of the exercise yard and funnelled all the people through. David steered them all, so they simply joined the crowd.
“You will be released once the crowds are cleared, and it is safe to move. I beg your patience.”
David slid an arm around Jeremy’s waist and held him up as he felt to be sagging. Jo stood at the other side of him, and between them they supported him. Kendrick stood close, and Jeremy kept his head down.
“Can you stand?” David whispered.
Jeremy nodded, but David could feel him shaking. He felt warm. Too warm. David’s heart sank.
Chapter 22
Jeremy kept his head down as the small crowd of people from the exercise yard were escorted out of the prison and onto Newgate Street. He couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe he was out. They hadn’t recognised him, hadn’t questioned him…He was free!
The scene he was met with was sobering. Hundreds of people still wandered about, dazed. Many were weeping as the dead and injured were put onto carts. The road was strewn with hats, odd shoes, ladies’ reticules. Jeremy spotted a child’s rag doll and couldn’t stop staring at it.
“What happened?” he whispered to David, horrified.
“Too many turned up to watch and from what I can gather got caught in a crush. Those that fell were trampled it seems.”
“It was that bloody pie seller,” grumbled Kendrick. Fell over and it all went to pot after that.
“What are they doing with them?”
“I imagine they will be taking them up the road to St Bartholomew’s hospital,” David said, keeping a keen eye out. “Come, we need to get you out of here,” he said.
It was freezing cold with the threat of rain in the air as they hurried along. Every moment, Jeremy expected to be grabbed, recognised, or stopped, but they were not. People were busy moving about, shouting, cleaning the area, dealing with the bereaved, and paid little attention to the four of them making their way through the melee. A man stood, holding a crying baby, looking frantically through the crowd. It was truly dreadful.
David had a cart close by and he was glad when he could huddle in the back with Jo. They sat side by side, and she took hold of his hand. He was grateful for the contact.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
She squeezed his fingers gently, and they rode in silence as Jeremy breathed the fresh, cold February air and felt grateful to be alive.
* * * *
Once they got to David’s house, Jo and Mr. Kendrick hurried about whilst David took him to the kitchen and sat him in the armchair by the fire. The blaze was stoked high, and pots of water were put on the range to boil, and the kettle filled. A huge bath was dragged in and put in front of the fire, and the staff buzzed about getting things ready for him. He was so grateful to see them all.
“It’s best if you bathe here, it’s quicker and warmer,” David said, kissing him on the top of the head as he passed. “I’ll help light fires in the bedchambers, Jo, could you get us all something to eat whilst the water warms?” He gestured to the two young footmen hovering and they disappeared, Kendrick following them, leaving Jeremy by the fire, shivering. David ran back moments later with a clean nightshirt, robe, and a blanket over one arm, a bottle in the other. He put them on the table before grabbing a cup and, unstopping the bottle, poured in a generous amount.
“Here you go.” He held o
ut the cup
Jeremy grimaced, but took it and tossed it back. It was vile. He shuddered. David touched him briefly on the head, and then disappeared again.
The kettle started to bubble, and Jo grabbed a cloth and lifted it, pouring the steaming water into a huge tea pot. She went into the pantry and came back with a side of gammon, cheese, a pot of pickles, and what looked like a pie and assembled them on the table, after carefully moving the nightshirt and robe. Jeremy tried to stand to help, but his legs wobbled.
“Sit,” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. He hated feeling so weak.
She refilled the kettle and put it back on to boil. Whilst they waited, she put food onto a plate and handed it to Jeremy.
“Eat whilst we sort out some water for you.”
Jeremy looked at the plate of food, still feeling unsteady, and managed to eat some of the cheese and sip at a cup of tea.
He watched as Jo poured the heated water into the bathtub and then topped it up with cold water. She tested it with her fingers, then shooed the maids out of the room so there was just the two of them.
“Nice and hot,” she said. “Come on, strip off.”
Jeremy hesitated. “Are you sure bathing is a good idea? I feel a little…I don’t want to take a chill.”
“Best way to warm you up and clean those wounds. Come on,” she said, gesturing to him.
Jeremy cleared his throat and looked about him.
She laughed. “It’s not like you have anything I haven’t seen before,” she said, and Jeremy huffed a short laugh in return. He was pulling off his breeches when David came back into the room.
“Let me help,” he said, and slid his arm around him. It was good to lean on him. Feel him. Smell him. He was so warm and familiar he wanted to cry. He was sure he would cry eventually, but at that moment, he just needed to get clean.
“Your legs will hurt,” David said, as they peeled the makeshift bandages away.
Jeremy nodded, and held onto his arm as he stepped over the side and got both legs in. He shrieked and jumped out again, splashing water everywhere. David grabbed him, laughing, and helped him get back in and sat down so he could drape his damaged ankles over each side. Jo retreated from the room, leaving him alone with David.
“Better?” David asked.
“Heavenly.” The water was hot and lapped around his exhausted, aching body. He had so many questions, but for now, he wanted to close his eyes and float. He opened his eyes when David began dragging a cloth gently over his skin, cleaning him carefully. Jeremy let him, holding up each part as directed, watching David all the time, but he refused to make eye contact. He washed his feet with an intensity of focus, and then bathed the wounds on his legs.
“Let me wash your hair,” he said, once he had attended to every other inch of him. Jeremy sat up as best he could whilst keeping his legs out of the water, and when David poured water over him and rubbed soap into his hair, he moaned softly.
The water was cooling, and he was starting to wrinkle by the time he was clean, apparently to David’s satisfaction. He took David’s hand and stepped out into the towel he held out for him and was wrapped carefully, tenderly. David hesitated a moment, and then pulled him into his arms. Jeremy went willingly, unable to return the embrace as his arms were trapped inside the towel, so he just lay his head on David’s shoulder. David wrapped him tight and pushed his face into Jeremy’s neck.
“Why didn’t you tell them it was me?” he whispered, stroking his back gently. “Why didn’t you get yourself out? All you needed to do was say it was me that was the thief.”
Jeremy wriggled, and was set free. He shrugged out of the towel and let it fall so he could get his arms around David. “As if I would do that,” he said, holding him tight. “Idiot,” he muttered.
“But…”
“No buts about it. What do you think I am? You might be a thief, but you’re my thief.”
“Jeremy…”
Jeremy pulled back and looked at him. His eyes looked very green, very serious, and very sad. “I knew you would come for me. Never doubted you for a second. I just sat tight.”
Jeremy was shocked when David’s eyes filled with tears. He looked away quickly, but they were definitely there. He coughed and swiped at his face with one hand.
“Hey,” Jeremy said softly and ran a thumb over his cheek.
“How can you have such damned faith in me?” he muttered, looking everywhere but at Jeremy.
“You came, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but…”
“Well, my faith wasn’t misplaced then, was it. Would you have left me there to rot?”
“Of course not. I was the guilty one, not you.”
“There you are then. Nothing much else to say on that score, is there?”
David kissed him. A chaste, gentle brush of the lips, and then helped him get dry and into the nightshirt. The fabric was deliciously soft and comforting and Jeremy stroked the fabric and sighed. “This is wonderful, thank you.” He pulled on his vibrant coloured robe and ran a comb through his wet hair.
David went to find Jo and Mr. Kendrick and one by one, they all filed back into the room. Spencer and Bentley sat side by side, both quiet. They set about the food Jo had laid out, but they were all subdued and ate slowly. Jeremy did his best, but his head still ached abominably, and his stomach was more than a little queasy.
“I still can’t believe how many people were hurt today,” Jo said after a little while, saying aloud what was troubling them all.
David shook his head. “A lot of those they were loading onto carts were dead. Awful.”
“They ought to stop doing it,” Bill Kendrick said, around a mouthful of cheese. “Bloody disgusting. People going and watching someone be murdered.”
“Murdered?” Jeremy said softly. He’d never thought of it in those terms.
“All wrapped up nicely by the courts, but it’s still killing people, and then encouraging the rest to look on and see it as some kind of sport.” Bill shook his head.
“I suppose it will all be in the paper tomorrow,” Jo said. “I wonder if they’ll notice Jeremy is gone?”
Jeremy glanced at Jo. “I’m sure they will.” He frowned. “They won’t put it in the paper, will they?”
They all looked at each other, slightly uncomfortable.
David shook his head. “Against a story about all those people dead and injured, I don’t think you would warrant a mention.”
Jeremy felt marginally relieved. They all finished their food in silence. Jo and David collected the plates and put them by the sink, and Bill Kendrick poured out some tea. They worked together as a team very well. It still amazed Jeremy when David did something like clear up.
Jo brought out some cake and they drank tea and ate it.
“Have you seen your brother?” Jeremy asked after a while. He would have liked to have seen the exchange between them when David realised Charnley had followed through his threat and had him flung in prison.
David nodded. “We are on marginally better terms.”
Jeremy was surprised. “Oh, I thought you might have been unhappy with him.”
David looked blank for a moment and then ran a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, you’ve not been party to all that’s gone on. Let me fill you in.” He thought for a moment. “It wasn’t Charnley who had you locked up, it was the Earl of Standish.”
Well, that was a surprise. “Standish?” he echoed. “Tall, handsome chap with blond hair and an eye for the gents?”
David nodded.
Jeremy pulled a face. “A bit over-familiar that one.”
Something darkened in David’s eyes. “What do you mean?”
“A little bit difficult to shake off his attentions, if you see what I mean. He was very persistent.”
“With you?”
Jeremy nodded and nibbled at the cake, then wiped the crumbs from his mouth. “Mm hmm. The last party he cornered me a couple of times.” Belatedly he registered D
avid had a muscle jumping along his jaw, and his eyes were like ice. “Nothing happened,” he said, chewing quickly and swallowing. “I swear, I managed to fend him off. Nothing happened.”
David breathed in through his nose. “The same happened to me.”
“What, he propositioned you?”
“He did.”
Jeremy could see Jo and Bill Kendrick’s gaze flicking back and forth between them. “Did you?” he couldn’t help asking.
David gave him a look. “No.”
Well, that was a turn up. “So…what has he got to do with this? Why would he have me flung into Newgate? Surely not because I turned him down?”
“No, but it might be because I turned him down, and he saw an opportunity.”
Jeremy’s head was swimming. “What are you talking about?”
Jo nudged David. “Just explain. You’re talking around it.”
David ran a hand over his face. “Standish is a French spy. He is blackmailing my brother into revealing secrets that would give Napoleon the advantage in the war on the continent. I agreed to help Charnley, but Standish moved first and had you put in Newgate.”
Jeremy was wide eyed with shock. “The Earl of Standish is a French spy?” What in God’s name was the world coming to when members of the aristocracy would sell secrets to the enemy?
“So it would seem.”
“And your brother is an English spy?”
“So it would seem.”
“Christ,” Jeremy muttered. His head was starting to ache again and he picked at the rest of his cake. “Fancy getting caught up in the middle of all that.”
“Is that all you have to say?” David asked.
Jeremy paused with the cake half way to his mouth. “What do you mean?”
David muttered something and got up. He pushed his chair back and fell to pacing. “Why are you so casual about all this? Why aren’t you furious with my brother, with me, with Standish? Between us, we almost got you killed and all you can say is, ‘fancy that?’” He made a gesture with his hands as though mimicking him in girlish way.
Jeremy glanced at Jo. Her face was pinched and angry looking. Mr. Kendrick and the others kept their gazes firmly on their plates.