All he could do was remain loyal and wait, hoping that the prince would see sense and take advice from those who genuinely sought a Stuart restoration rather than those who sought to line their pockets.
* * *
London.
Very slowly, hour by hour and day by day, under the expert treatment of one of the best surgeons in the country and the expert nursing of one of the most belligerent and determined women in the country, with the aid of her equally formidable assistant and the intermittent presence of Edwin when not on parliamentary duty, Beth started to recover.
When Sarah had received the message that Beth had been found, she had gone immediately to Caroline’s, and apart from a brief trip home to collect clothing and other necessaries, had stayed there ever since. Caroline had insisted on paying her, because she was earning nothing while she was looking after Beth, and when Sarah had balked at being paid for taking care of someone she loved, Caroline had pointed out that she would have had to pay a nurse anyway, but would far prefer someone who had a personal interest in the recovery of the patient.
After a few days the surgeon informed the Harlows and Sarah that he believed Beth to be out of danger of imminent death, although it was impossible to tell how much damage her vital organs had sustained due to the prolonged starvation. He confessed himself to be astounded. He had never seen anyone come so close to death’s door and not cross the threshold. It was a miracle, and a testament to the immense will to live that this tiny, fragile body harboured.
Neither Caroline nor Sarah thought it to be a miracle; they knew that Beth was one of the most stubborn, determined people they’d ever met, with a great zest for life. They were not surprised that her survival instinct caused her to automatically swallow the food and medicines she was given, even though she was still unconscious for much of the time, and when conscious showed no awareness of her surroundings or her situation.
After ten days of constant care and incrementally larger meals, Beth finally recovered both consciousness and awareness, to the relief and joy of the three people whose lives currently revolved around her.
And then the real work started. Because once awake, far from being happy to be alive and grateful to those who had made it so, she was distraught. Her treacherous body might want to accept nourishment and survive at all costs, but the owner of it most certainly did not. With every fibre of her being she wanted to die and join her husband, who she was now certain must not have survived Culloden.
The first time that Caroline tried to feed the fully conscious Beth, still too weak to move, a bowl of soup, she closed her mouth and turned her head away like a small child refusing its greens.
“Come on, Beth,” said Caroline, misunderstanding the gesture. “I know it’s embarrassing to be fed like a baby, but soon you’ll be able to lift a spoon yourself. Mr Platt says you’re making a remarkable recovery.”
To Caroline’s astonishment, on hearing these words Beth’s face crumpled, and she gave a huge sob. Tears welled in her eyes, spilled over, and trickled down the sunken cheeks. Caroline abandoned the soup, and leaning over, very carefully took the emaciated woman in her arms.
“I don’t want to,” Beth murmured into Caroline’s chest. “I’m so close. Please let me die.”
“It’s all right,” Caroline said. “You don’t need to be afraid. We won’t let you go back to Newgate.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Beth said, but Caroline was already reaching for the soup again, and too exhausted by her brief emotional outburst to protest, she dutifully swallowed the soup before falling into a deep sleep.
Upon awakening the following morning, however, she made a further attempt to make her wishes known.
“I want to die,” she told a startled Caroline who, thinking her patient to be deeply asleep, was sitting by the side of the bed engrossed in a novel. She closed it with a snap and put it on the bedside table.
“You’re very weak,” Caroline began, “Mr Platt, he’s the surgeon, said you would be low in spirits for a time. And as I told you yesterday, we won’t let you go back to Newgate. At the moment Edwin has permission for you to stay here until you are completely well. And Prince Frederick is determined that if you are to remain a prisoner, it will either be here with us, or in luxury in the Tower. But I really think we might be able to secure your release before too long. Once you’re a little stronger, you’ll feel differently.”
“No I won’t,” Beth replied. “I’ve been trying to die for months. Why won’t you let me?”
“You don’t mean that,” Caroline said, shocked.
“I do,” Beth persisted. “I tried to get them to execute me, because I was scared of getting gaol fever, but they wouldn’t. And then after Richard, when they told me about the baby, and then they left me alone, really alone, I knew they’d given up, and then I didn’t mind if I got it because they wouldn’t hear me, but I didn’t. And then they stopped bringing food and I was happy because I knew we’d be together soon. And now it’s all spoilt.”
She was delirious. She had to be. Nothing she was saying made any sense.
“Well you’ll just have to stop trying to die,” Caroline said briskly. “Because we love you and we’re not letting you die, and there’s an end of it.”
A few evenings later Caroline and Edwin were in the cosy parlour chatting about the affairs of the day, when there came a tentative knock on the door.
“Come in!” Edwin shouted at the top of his voice, expecting Toby.
The door opened and Sarah poked her head round it.
“Can I have a word?” she asked. “Beth’s asleep,” she added by way of explaining her dereliction of duty.
She came in and sat down, a worried expression on her face.
“She’s much stronger today,” she said. “She said she was only eating because she feels bad about all the trouble she’s causing us. We had a long chat.”
“Right now I don’t care why she’s eating, as long as she is,” Caroline replied. “Her mood will lift when she’s stronger.”
“That’s why I want to talk to you,” Sarah said. “I’m not sure it will.”
“What was the long chat about?” Edwin asked.
“She told me that she was interviewed by the Duke of Cumberland and the Duke of Newcastle, and that she wouldn’t tell them anything, which was why they sent her to Newgate. One of her cellmates died of gaol fever, but before she died she rambled in her fever and told the others all sorts of things about her life. After that Beth was terrified of getting sick and revealing everything about Sir Anthony. So she deliberately provoked the duke, hoping he’d order her execution.”
“Except he didn’t. He ordered her to be tortured instead,” Caroline stated.
“Yes. But she told me something else. She was pregnant,” Sarah said.
“What?” Edwin asked. “Did she know this when she saw the duke?”
“Yes.”
“And he still ordered her torture?” he said, aghast.
“Which duke?” Caroline asked, her expression showing that whichever one it was, he was going to regret it.
“Newcastle,” Sarah said. “But he didn’t know. She didn’t tell him, because she knew that he wouldn’t have her killed if he knew she was pregnant.”
“I don’t understand,” Edwin said.
“She didn’t want him to use her own child to try to make her betray Sir Anthony. And she knew that if she didn’t the baby would have almost no chance of surviving anyway, in prison or a foundling hospital.”
“You mean she thinks so much of that traitor that she was willing to kill herself and her baby rather than give him up?” Edwin said, astounded. “What’s wrong with her? He’s abandoned her, for God’s sake! Can’t she see that? I wish I knew who he really was. I’d give him up to Newcastle with the greatest pleasure.”
This uncharacteristic display of anger silenced both women for a moment. Sarah opened her mouth, then closed it again, unsure of what to say.
�
�He might not have abandoned her, Edwin. He might be dead,” Caroline pointed out.
“That’s what she thinks,” Sarah added. “She said that he told her he’d come for her, and if he was alive he certainly would have done by now. So he must be dead, and she wants to join him. She lost the baby after Richard…” She stopped for a minute, her face twisting with hatred, “…after he tortured her.”
“This is ridiculous,” Edwin said, still incensed. “Whether he’s dead or alive, he doesn’t deserve this loyalty. He knew what he was when he married her. He had no right to put her in that danger, to talk an innocent, gullible girl into following him into treason and then letting her go on campaign with him–”
“Are we still talking about Beth?” Caroline interrupted.
“Of course we are!” Edwin said, puzzled. “Who else would we be talking about?”
“I don’t know,” Caroline retorted. “But the only way that Beth was innocent before Anthony married her was in understanding how manipulative and two-faced society is. And she was never gullible. She was already a Jacobite, Edwin. Surely that’s obvious? Anthony recognised that, and married her to get her away from her obnoxious family before she gave herself away anyway. I don’t know what happened after that, but as for letting her do something, can you imagine anyone trying to stop Beth doing something she really wants to do?”
“He was her husband,” Edwin said. “A husband should be able to control…” He looked at his wife, and his voice trailed away. “Anyway,” he continued a moment later, “if she thinks he’s dead, why doesn’t she tell Newcastle what he wants to know? It can’t do Anthony any harm, but we could almost certainly get her a pardon if she does.”
“She said that if she betrays him, she’ll betray some other people too, people that she cares for,” Sarah said, her colour rising a little. “She won’t do that. I admire her for it.”
“So do I,” Caroline agreed.
Edwin wiped his hand across his face in exasperation.
“I give in,” he said. “You must both have been reading those stupid romantic novels that women swoon over. We’re talking about traitors here. Men who are trying to overthrow the king; dangerous, ruthless men.”
“Unlike the kind and compassionate men who are not trying to overthrow the king, but who are happy to order the torture and starvation of a young woman because she won’t give up the man she loves?” Caroline said coldly.
Sarah looked from one to the other in shock. She had never heard them exchange so much as a cross word before. Now they looked about to embark on a full-blown argument. Her guilt at being the unwitting cause of this marital disharmony emboldened her to intervene.
“Arguing with each other about whether she should give him up or not is pointless, because she won’t do it. Instead we should be trying to work out how to be the first people to stop Beth doing something she wants to do,” she said. “Because right now all she wants to do is die.”
“I’m sorry,” Edwin said, his naturally placid, kind-hearted nature prevailing over his outburst of anger. “Neither of you are the sort of idiotic woman who swoons over dreadful romantic novels. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Caroline replied. “We’re all overwrought. Let’s see what we can come up with to persuade her that she has good reason to live.”
* * *
After trying a multitude of tactics, from talking about the bright future she could have, that she was too young and lovely to die, that lots of people loved her, even (from Sarah) that when released she could continue her fight to restore the Stuarts, they finally hit upon the two things that made her agree to try to get well.
The first was to tell her of the huge amount of effort, time and money that had been put into rescuing her. The soldier Ned risked the wrath of Richard if it became known that he had spoken about her ordeal; Prince Frederick risked further alienation from his father by freeing her from jail; Edwin had put his political career on the line by agreeing to keep her in his house; and Sarah was losing a lot of custom and goodwill by spending all her time nursing Beth. She owed it to them if not to herself to stop being so selfish and repay their efforts on her behalf.
And the second was to tell her that Richard would be overjoyed if he knew that she had utterly lost the will to live and had committed suicide because of his attack on her.
She spent the next two weeks valiantly forcing down food, gritting her teeth at the resulting stomach cramps, trying not to feel embarrassed when she lost control of her bladder which happened frequently at first, enduring the cramps and frustration once she tried to start performing herculean tasks such as feeding herself and sitting up unaided; and all of it done with a sullen and resentful attitude towards those who were resorting to emotional blackmail to stop her killing herself.
It was only when she was finally capable of sitting, and was able to be lifted out of the bed by Edwin and seated in a chair by the window for a short period of time, and could look out at the people passing by in the street to relieve the boredom of convalescence, that she saw the spire of a nearby church. And suddenly the third reason, and the most important one, the only one that really mattered, hit her.
If she had died in the prison cell, that would have been fine. But to deliberately refuse aid and choose to starve to death, was suicide. In the Roman Catholic faith, the faith to which both she and Alex belonged, suicide was a mortal sin. If she died by her own hand, she would go to hell. And if she went to hell she would never be reunited with Alex, because if he was dead, as she believed he must be, he had died fighting for what he believed in and for the right to worship freely, and would therefore be certain of a place in heaven.
She had to live, and go on living, until God decided it was time for her to die and join the only man she had ever loved, the only man she ever would love. And if she was going to live, then she might as well do it wholeheartedly, as she had always done everything.
That afternoon, to Edwin’s surprise, when he returned to carry her back to bed Beth bestowed a smile on him which actually reached her eyes, and asked him if he thought she might be able to attempt to stand by herself soon.
“I’ll call for the surgeon and ask his advice,” Edwin said. “I don’t want to say yes and then risk you breaking your leg.”
When Sarah came in later with some mashed potatoes and carefully de-boned fish, Beth had pushed back the bedcovers and was attempting to raise and lower her legs, her face contorted with the effort. Eyeing the stick-thin shins on display, Sarah forced down the tears and pasted a smile on her face.
“Dinner!” she said brightly. “And there’s a syllabub for dessert, too.”
Beth looked at her, grimaced at the bland food which was all her stomach could tolerate at the moment, and pulled the sheet back over herself.
“Edwin said that he’s worried I might break my legs if I try to walk right now,” Beth said, “so I thought I’d build a little muscle without putting any weight on them at first. When I was in the Tower,” she continued, lifting a forkful of potato to her lips and blowing on it to cool it a little, “I used to run on the spot, and hold a book at arm’s length for ages to stop my muscles wasting away. When I think of all the walking I did, when we were…never mind. I took my health for granted.”
“You’ll get it back,” Sarah replied.
Beth smiled at her.
“Yes,” she said. “I will. Thank you. All of you. I’m sorry I’ve been so ungrateful. I’ve been feeling very low, but I’m much better today.”
“She’s turned the corner,” Sarah said later in the parlour. “I don’t know what’s happened, but she’s suddenly got the will to live, really got it. She’s not just eating and moving to please us any more.”
“Thank God for that,” Caroline breathed. “I’ve missed the old Beth, more than I expected to. And maybe we can all start living a more normal life now if one of us doesn’t have to sit with her every night for fear she’ll find a way to kill herself.”
“I can’t imagine feeling so desperately unhappy with life that all you want to do is end it,” Edwin said. “It must be terrible.”
“It is,” Sarah replied without thinking, then blushed as Edwin and Caroline both looked at her. “But if you don’t give in to it, then time goes by and things change, and one day you’re really glad that you kept going, because life is a wonderful gift, and you come out stronger for having survived the bad times.”
“Maybe she’ll be able to have visitors now,” Caroline said. “It’ll do her good to have some different conversation. I know Tom wants to see her if she wants him to, and Prince Frederick does, too. I didn’t want to take the chance on letting them see her in case she was rude to them.”
“I don’t think she will be now she’s not angry with everyone who saved her life,” Sarah said. “Can I ask a favour of you both?”
“Of course!” Caroline replied. “I don’t know how we’d have managed without your help.”
“Don’t mention Mary to her. At all.”
They had agreed not to mention that Sarah was looking after her niece while Beth was very weak, in case it reminded her of the baby she’d lost.
“But surely once she’s a little stronger, she’ll be able to deal with it? You can’t keep Mary from her forever,” Edwin pointed out.
“Maybe not. But will you let me be the one to decide when to tell her? However long that might be? Please?” she added, with desperation in her voice.
“Of course, if that’s what you want,” Edwin said. Caroline nodded agreement. They wore matching puzzled expressions.
“It is. Thank you,” Sarah replied, with enormous and obvious relief.
* * *
Although not willing to talk about Mary, now that Beth was more receptive Sarah told her the details of John’s escape from prison, and their attendance at the execution of the other rebels.
“I know he knew things about Sir Anthony, but the authorities didn’t know that so they didn’t question him, and he wasn’t going to volunteer anything,” Sarah added. “I wouldn’t let him tell me anything either. I’ve been interviewed by the Duke of Newcastle once, and I don’t want to know anything that could hurt them…him,” she amended hurriedly.
Pursuit of Princes (The Jacobite Chronicles Book 5) Page 42