by Holly West
Charles opened his eyes and gave me a smile that made my heart swell. “Isabel, my love,” he said, lifting his hand up to my face and stroking my cheek. “Have you made a decision yet?”
Despite all of my arguments against it, in that moment, I wanted desperately to say yes. Had it not been for Susanna Barber and her claim that my brother had been murdered, I just might have.
* * *
Though I was tired when I returned home from Whitehall, Charlotte and I went dutifully to Coal Yard Alley.
We settled in and Charlotte dealt the cards. But after playing a few unenthusiastic hands, I laid my cards on the table and sighed. “I’ve something to discuss with you, Charlotte.”
Her manner became worried. “Yes, my lady?”
“Oh, it’s nothing so bad as all that,” I said, chuckling. “You know I’ve been spending a good deal of time with the king recently. We’ve been getting along much better of late.”
Her expression turned to relief and she smiled. “I didn’t think it proper for me to say anything, but of course I noticed.”
“Tonight, he invited me to come live at the palace.”
Charlotte gasped. “Oh my lady, that’s wonderful!”
I slumped in my chair. “Is it? I’m not so certain.”
She clapped her hands. “Of course it is! You love the king and he loves you. You belong together.”
I didn’t remind her that he was already married. That any future we might have would never be sanctioned by God, or the state, for that matter. “I’m not certain that’s the case,” I said ruefully. “But it’s true, I do love him.”
“Will you do it then?”
“I’ve not decided yet. It’s not as simple as two people loving each other. You know something of my past—how can I ever truly trust him? And what would become of Elijah and Alice? Or Sam, if he ever came back?”
“He’ll be back,” she said. “I’m certain of it.”
I wasn’t so sure. He’d been so angry with himself because he’d not been able to save me from the recent assault. Instead, it was Charlotte who’d come to my rescue, and Sam was humiliated. It wasn’t his fault that he’d been incapacitated on that grim night, but he didn’t see it that way.
“I’ll always need a waiting woman—you’ll be welcome at Whitehall, and I dare say, quite popular amongst the male courtiers. But there’ll be no place for Elijah and Alice. How could I possibly turn them out?”
“Perhaps you could keep your house and rent out the rooms? Alice and Elijah could manage it for you.”
I’d thought of that possibility myself, though I’d given it no real consideration. Up until now I’d been trying to come up with excuses not to live at Whitehall, not trying to figure out how to make it work.
“And this business with Adam is so distracting,” I continued. “I won’t be able to rest until I find out the truth of it.”
“Did you learn anything today?” she asked.
I told her about how confusing the day had been. That I hadn’t really found out anything new and that I had no place else to go with my inquiry.
“But now you know that Adam left the pesthouse,” Charlotte said. “He didn’t die there. That should give you some hope.”
She was right about that. It did give me hope.
“What about you,” I said finally. “Would you like to live at Whitehall?”
Her expression softened, as though she were all of a sudden imagining her life as that of a fairy princess. “I’d like that very much, my lady. But of course, it’s up to you. I’ll do whatever you wish—you’ve been nothing but kind to me. I know you’ll make the right decision.”
After an hour and a half, we received no visitors. Charlotte put out the fire and we went home. I might not be convinced that Charles’s feelings toward me had sufficiently grown to the point I could trust him, but if my business continued to languish, I might have no choice but to move to Whitehall and take my chances.
Chapter Eleven
Wednesday, 15 January
When Lucian arrived at noon the next day, he was jubilant.
“I’ve just heard the news,” he said, kissing my cheeks. “I’m overjoyed. Tell me, when do you intend to make the move to Whitehall?”
“Who told you?” I asked, outraged.
“Why, Nell did, of course.”
A pox on Nell Gwyn for discussing my affairs with Lucian! She was a former actress with the Duke’s Company and good friend of his. She was also one of my rivals for the king’s affection, which made our own friendship uneasy at best. I realized that she probably held some resentment toward me since the king and I had grown closer, but why should it bother her? She’d lived at Whitehall herself before moving into her palatial house in Pall Mall, rumored to have been paid for by the king.
I wondered how Nell had learned so quickly about Charles’s invitation. I didn’t think he would’ve told her himself, but she was popular at court and collected gossip the way some women amassed silk stockings. She was privy to a great deal of information, which she didn’t mind sharing. I’d found that useful in the past, but not this time.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Lucian, but—”
He crossed his arms and sighed dramatically. “You are going to do it, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Don’t be too long deciding. His Majesty might change his mind.”
Lucian was joking, but it was close enough to the truth that it bothered me a little.
“At any rate, we need to celebrate this momentous turn of events,” he said. “I propose a visit to the Bear Garden. I’ve heard there’s a new animal just arrived from Yorkshire and it’s ripping entertainment.”
“Don’t you have to be at the theatre tonight?”
“They can do without me for one night.”
I didn’t relish bear baiting or any of the other similar sports that were so popular among the unruly London crowds. It wasn’t merely the barbarous nature of it—sitting too close to the pit, a lady risked a bloodied dog landing in her lap—it was the gamblers themselves that troubled me. Most of the spectators appeared not to have two farthings to rub together, yet they bet pound upon pound as though they were kings themselves. I didn’t begrudge them their silly pastimes, but spending one’s money so foolishly didn’t sit well with me. Still, I reluctantly agreed to go, thinking it might be a good diversion.
Alice fixed us dinner and while we ate, I told him what I’d discovered about Adam. “The nurse at the pesthouse swears he didn’t die there,” I said. “But if he didn’t, I don’t understand why he never contacted Sir Richard to inform him he had survived.”
“My guess is that he died anyway, just not at the pesthouse as we believed previously.”
I agreed that it was the most likely explanation, even if I hated to admit it.
We set off at three for the late afternoon match at Bankside and found the Bear Garden already full of drunken spectators. Lucian laid his bets and we found seats on the upper tier of the ring.
The air was cloying, filled with the stench of unwashed bodies and livestock. There was a pile driven into the ground on one end of the pit with an enormous black bear already chained to it by the neck. The frightening animal stood on its hind legs, taller than the stake on which it was tethered. It batted at the air with sharp-clawed paws as though practicing for the angry dogs that were already barking for its blood behind the gate.
A rowdy cheer went up—”Play! Play! Play!” The dogs were released from their pen. The bear roared as they leveled their first attack and I turned my head so that I didn’t have to watch. The barking became louder, followed by a series of pathetic yelps, and then came the lone growling of the bear.
Lucian elbowed me and slapped his thigh. “Did ye see that? ’twas my
good fortune to have wagered a crown on that one!”
We sat through two more matches, each more savage than the one prior. Lucian’s luck seemed to have run out, for he’d bet a shilling on each of these matches, and when he lost, wagered two more on the next in order to make up for it. Such was the life of a gambler, I sighed to myself. It reminded me of the first time we were presented at Whitehall.
Sir Richard was to be honored at a supper hosted by the king, a gesture of gratitude for the coronation regalia. Sir Richard had not only crafted them, he’d financed at a cost of more than thirty thousand pounds as well. To thank Adam for his assistance, Sir Richard insisted that Adam, Lucian and I attend the supper with him and his family.
Margaret and I were hardly more than girls then, given to inappropriate giggling fits in church and endless conversations about love, men and husbands, and what really happened on one’s wedding night. We spent weeks anticipating His Majesty’s celebration, and when the day finally came, Lady Winser’s waiting woman arranged our hair and painted our faces. I wore the blue satin dress that Adam had had made for me and altogether, I felt as pretty as a lady-in-waiting.
I’d already met the king once before, when Adam had allowed me to accompany him when he delivered the regalia. But that night I couldn’t take my eyes off Charles, and it pleased me when I occasionally found his gaze upon me. Most of his attention was lavished upon Queen Catherine that night, but even so, I knew there were several women in attendance that had already shared his bed and a great many more who wanted to. I was among them.
The food was better than any I’d ever eaten, with a succulent roast swan and plum sauce, flagon after flagon of delicious wine, and the softest bread and the sweetest butter. When supper finished, the dancing and gambling began. The guests all moved to a large room set up with tables for just this purpose. I’d never played so much as a friendly game of ombre, for Adam disliked gambling. But from the start, Lucian had a fondness for it, almost as strong as his penchant for women.
At fourteen Lucian was just beginning to shed the muted edges of boyhood. The women of the court showered him with affection and even sent him notes requesting late-night assignations. The queen’s ladies-in-waiting batted their eyelashes at him, suggesting the promise of surreptitious fondling in dark corners.
But that night, Lucian was fully focused on the games. He’d recently made a bit of pocket money writing satires in the names of various members of court who had neither the wit nor the talent for such things. He sat at a table with the Duke of Buckingham, Baron Arlington, and the Earl of Shaftsbury, laid his first bet and watched as the cards turned up in his favor.
He was too inexperienced to know that where there were winners, there were losers, and that losers weren’t generally keen to remain so. They let Lucian win a few hands, thus boosting his confidence and his bets. But eventually they grew tired of losing and Buckingham pulled out a false box and suggested they play some dice.
At the time, none of us had ever heard of such a thing, but Sir Richard explained later that it was a box falsely painted on the inside to appear authentic. But it had the uncanny ability to turn up the desired combinations of dice so that the holder won. It wasn’t long before Lucian lost not only his winnings, but also all of his own money and a good deal more that he’d secured on credit. By the time Adam realized what was going on, Lucian had lost twenty-five pounds and a fight broke out with Lucian at the center.
I’d been dancing with a handsome young earl, enchanted, no doubt, by what I then considered to be charm. It wasn’t until Adam brushed by me, handling Lucian by the scruff of his neck, that I realized anything was amiss.
“It’s time for us to go, Isabel,” he said, grabbing my wrist with my other hand. I was mortified—Adam was treating Lucian and me like children. I stood my ground stubbornly, scraping my new high-heeled shoes across the marble floor as Adam pulled at me.
Margaret, who’d been dancing with the Duke of Monmouth, gave me a sympathetic look. She tried to deflect Monmouth’s attention away from us smiling gaily and putting a bit more enthusiasm into her steps, but he stopped, as most of the other dancers had, to watch our ridiculous display. I felt sick with embarrassment.
“Have it your way,” Adam said, letting go of my arm. He exited the giant doors of the ballroom with Lucian in tow, leaving me in the center of the dance floor with all eyes upon me. With no notion of how to graciously handle the situation, I ran out after them, trying and failing to keep my humiliated tears at bay.
The crowd in the Bear Garden raised a cheer, bringing me back to the present. I gave Lucian a sideways glance. Did he remember his first foray into gambling? He’d been furious with Adam at the time, just as I had been. But he never quite learned his lesson after that because Sir Richard paid his debt and Lucian had been a favorite at Whitehall ever since.
A momentary hush came over the crowd when the final match was about to start. Lucian stared intently into the pit below, waiting for the dogs to be released. Having had enough of this mindless sport, I allowed my eyes to wander.
It was then that I saw her. The girl I knew as Susanna Barber was sitting across the ring from me, in the second tier. I squinted, for the room was rather dark, thinking that I must be mistaken. But no, I was certain it was she. She sat among a group of men who were all standing, their full attention on the match. She appeared to be confused and upset—hardly surprising, seeing the carnage in the pit below. I felt a strong protective urge. Who would bring a child to such a place?
Her eyes then fixed upon me and widened. She grabbed at the sleeve of one of the men but he brushed her off, annoyed.
“It’s Susanna!” I jumped up and began elbowing my way through the spectators, stepping on feet and garnering a few disgruntled curses. I kept an eye on her as I made my way around the ring, watching as she now tugged frantically at the man’s sleeve. Finally, he bent down so that she could whisper something into his ear and his eyes darted toward me.
I took the stairs down to the second level two at a time, nearly pitching forward midway down when someone pushed me from behind. When I caught my balance and glanced back toward where Susanna sat, they were both gone. I scrutinized the areas to the right and left and caught a glimpse of the man pulling Susanna along to the exit on the first tier. There was no way I could get there in time so I pointed and shouted, “Stop them!”
With all the noise in the Bear Garden, nobody even bothered to look my way. But just after Susanna and her companion made it out the door, I saw Lucian slip out after them. So he had been paying attention after all. I prayed that he’d somehow manage to detain them until I was able to get out.
I burst through the door and into the street. It was much darker than it had been inside the ring and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. Lucian was engaged in a scuffle with Susanna’s companion whilst she looked on. The man was much more brawny than Lucian was and seemed to be getting the better of him.
“Get ’im, Tom, get ‘im!” Susanna yelled.
This puzzled me. Susanna wasn’t behaving like a frightened, kidnapped child. On the contrary, she was rooting for her companion.
Lucian and Tom stumbled and nearly fell onto Susanna. “Susanna,” I cried, running toward them, “move away, you’ll get hurt!”
“Stay right where you are, Kitty,” the man said, “if you know what’s good for ya.”
Had I heard correctly? Why was this man calling her Kitty? Was it a nickname? Or was this girl simply posing as my niece, Susanna?
I grabbed Susanna’s wrist just as Tom landed a hard punch on Lucian’s jaw and I gasped as my brother folded to the ground. But I didn’t release my hold, despite the girl’s struggling. Tom lunged at me.
“Let go of ‘er,” he growled, taking hold of my arm, trying to wrench Susanna from my grip. Fearing I’d hurt her if I held on, I released her. Tom scooped her up and ran away t
oward the river.
I glanced at Lucian, who was just getting up, his hand holding his jaw. “I’ll be right back,” I said and started off in the direction Tom had carried Susanna.
There were footsteps behind me. “Stay here, Isabel,” a familiar voice said. A man ran past me, running after Tom.
It was Sam.
Chapter Twelve
I let out an involuntary shriek and started after him. “Sam!”
“Stay there, Isabel!” he repeated, disappearing into the shadows.
I hadn’t seen him in nearly three months. Could I trust him to come back? I hoped so, because I couldn’t catch up to him now, and anyway, Lucian needed tending to.
“Are you all right?” I asked my brother.
He touched the underside of his chin carefully and winced. “It’s sore, but I don’t think it’s broken. Sorry they got away.”
“I’m just grateful you’re not hurt.”
“Are you sure it was even her?”
I thought about the man calling her Kitty. Had I been mistaken? No. I was sure it was Susanna. “I’m certain of it.”
The crowd began to stream out of the Bear Garden. With so many people milling about, I became concerned that Sam wouldn’t be able to find us, even if he wanted to. I became anxious at the idea of losing him again.
“C’mon,” I said, taking Lucian by the hand. “Let’s move away from here.”
I pulled him in the direction Sam had gone and we stood waiting for a good while, with Lucian complaining the whole time. “He would’ve found ’em by now, Isabel. I don’t think he’s coming back.”
I hated to think he might be right. Sam had always been so loyal to me. Ten years ago, we’d met in Marshalsea Prison, where he’d been imprisoned for theft. He’d been my guardian there, and when I was released, I used my hard-won influence with the king—what little of it there was—to gain Sam’s freedom as well. He’d been my good friend and loyal protector ever since.
But I had more to worry about than missing him. For many years, Sam’s sole means of earning a living was thievery. More than ten years had passed since his last arrest, but he’d been burned on the thumb, a mark that meant he’d be hanged if he were convicted of another offense. If he had, by necessity, returned to his criminal exploits since he’d left my employ, the consequences could be grave. He had to come back. But as the crowd began to dissipate I grew cold. Even I had to admit that Sam might not return.