“A lady of much fortitude, by Jupiter!” declared the regent.
“I do not like dead bodies, your highness, but to bring justice to them, I will tolerate their unpleasantness so the bloodied lips which are their gaping wounds might speak for them,” said Jane.
“Julius Caesar, Shakespeare,” said the regent.
“A trifle mangled, I fear, but yes, sir,” said Jane.
The Duke of York was nodding.
“I hope that you may get your wish, Sir Caleb,” he said. “Alas, such matters are not in our hands, but with Parliament. But I will speak to such men as have both influence and an interest in the justice system,” he said.
“That I appreciate most kindly,” said Caleb.
The duke laughed.
“More than the money, I do believe!”
“Why, sir, I know how to live frugally, but I cannot bring back the lives of my colleagues killed for the want of training,” said Caleb, soberly.
The duke nodded, gravely.
“A soldier always regrets lives lost that should not have been,” he said. “I am glad that you made the leap which preserved your life, even at the expense of opening an old wound. Was it truly seven feet?”
“Nearer five foot six,” said Caleb. “But it’s remarkable what the human body will do when the pit of hell is opening up underneath you. I really don’t remember much about it and I had hysterics like a little girl afterwards.”
“Ay, but it was afterwards,” said York. “Most people try to hide that they are having hysterics beforehand, and fail to act because of it.”
“If Sir William Wetherby had known, he would have done as much,” said Caleb, “But I did not know him then, nor have the measure of him.”
“A man to keep an eye on,” smiled the Duke. “I trust that a thousand pounds a year is not too meagre?”
“It’s beyond generous,” said Caleb.
“Don’t tell him that, he might bargain you down,” laughed the regent.
“I want to be sure that a man who can catch traitors is not wanting, so that you can drop any lesser task for the Crown’s needs,” said York. “I was right next to that infernal device, and I appreciate being still alive.”
Caleb bowed his upper body.
“That, sir, I can understand well,” he said. “I am always at the disposal of the Crown.”
“Thank you,” said Jane.
“I think you are very nice!” said Cecily, giving the duke a kiss on the cheek.
“Now that has made my day!” said York.
* * *
[1] See ‘Jane and the Opera Dancer’
[2] See ‘Jane and the Burning Question, and other stories’
[3] See ‘Death of a Fop’
[4] I’ve been fascinated by Draisines for as long as I can remember, as we have one in the local transport museum, displayed during my childhood in Christchurch Mansion, a favourite weekend venue. My interest was, of course, increased by discovering Georgette Heyer at the age of 8, with ‘Frederica’ in which one of the eponymous heroine’s brothers comes to grief on a pedestrian curricle. The fad in Britain was short-lived, and few outlived the brief passion that rose and fell in 1819. A film of Buster Keaton riding a reproduction may be found at http://tubulocity.com/?p=5680
[5] See ‘Death of a Fop’
[6] See ‘Jane and the Bow Street Runner’: Jane and the Yorkshire Murder
[7] See ‘Jane and the Opera Dancer’
[8] See ‘Jane and the Bow Street Runner’: Jane and the Scandal at Bow Street
[9] See ‘Jane and the Burning Question, and other stories.’
Jane and the Sins of Society Page 23