Page 17 of The Marriage Debt
She could not endure their well-disguised pity, their attempts to include her tactfully in events where she might be able to afford to dress appropriately, and she dreaded any visitor coming across Philip in one of his drunken fits of moroseness. It was pride, she supposed, musing on it now. Strange that she had not realised it until she had recognised the same thing in Theo.
Well, she would not be married for long now, but she could not complain that it had been an uneventful experience.
‘Where are we now?’ she asked, leaning forward to look out of the window.
‘Not far from–’
The carriage lurched, jolted and then tipped suddenly onto its side with a rending sound of breaking timber and the shrill scream of a horse. Katherine grabbed frantically for the hanging strap, was knocked away from it by Jenny’s helplessly tumbling body and something came up and hit her across the forehead. The world went black with shooting white lights, then the noisefaded away and all was still.
Chapter Seven
The jolt of the hammer as the man struck off his leg irons jarred through Theo’s body until it met the thudding ache in his head that had held his brain in its grip since he had left the chapel on Sunday.
He sighed in relief as the shackles fell away, then stooped to place his hand irons on the anvil. It was a temporary relief because they would tie his hands behind his back before he left this room. Then it was the short walk out onto the gallows platform along with his companions in death who either huddled in front of him or who stood waiting their turn behind.
The stone-walled room was thronged with the condemned, the Ordinary, the Governor and Assistant Governor, the gaolers and the well-bred crowd who had paid to be admitted to this titillating glimpse behind the scenes. For perhaps the fourth time he let his eyes scan the room. No sign of her, thank God.
Not that Kat’s absence here gave him much comfort. He had believed her promise to return, which meant that if she was not inside, then she was out there with the crowd. Theo stood to one side when his irons were removed and the next prisoner stepped up to the anvil. A woman.No, he thought,hardly more than a girl. She was thin and wretched but a fierce anger burned in her eyes as they met Theo’s and he nodded in recognition of another unbowed spirit.
His head pounded unmercifully and he put up a hand to rub where it hurt worst. Used to the weight of the shackles, he misjudged the gesture and hit himself a painful blow. Was Kat out there in that yelling, jostling, carnival crowd? He hated the thought that she would see him meet not some heroic death but merely a shameful, undignified, choking end.
The crowd of fashionable onlookers shifted, parted and hesaw a face he recognised. It was that young lawyer. What was his name? Brigham, that was it. He seemed to be alone. His eyes met Theo’s and he nodded, then gestured with his clasped hands as though tugging.
Theo understood him. He had one friend in this mob at least, one person who was prepared to stand at the gallows’ foot and swing on his legs to bring the end mercifully sooner. He raised a hand in silent acknowledgement and the young lawyer nodded in response and turned to burrow back through the crowd.
The ragged line of the condemned began to shuffle forward, the doors opening ahead, the roar of the crowd suddenly loud in his ears. From behind he was suddenly elbowed in the kidneys and the thin young woman pushed past him. ‘Ladies first!’ she shouted in an unmistakeable East London accent. ‘I’m not waiting around while you deal with all these ’ere coves. I’m going first while the audience is fresh-like.’
There were sniggers and the gaolers grinned, pushing her forward to the front of the line. Had no-one but him seen the tears on her cheeks? She was desperate to end the waiting, terrified of having to see what was happening before her, that was all.
The next twenty minutes passed in a daze. He fixed his eyes on the head in front of him as they slowly shuffled forward, stopped, waited uneasily, then moved again. What was happening outside he ignored, focusing instead on the grizzled hair, the scarred neck and the occasional flea on the man before him.
Then he was out in the sunshine and his turn was next. He looked up, over the heads of the mob, over the top of the gallows, and concentrated on nothing but the memory of a trusting, fragrant, soft body nestled against his and the passionate intensity in a pair of brown eyes locked with his.I promise.
There was a thud, sickeningly familiar now, and the crowdyelled louder. He shut his ears to the noise. Minutes passed then he was pushed forward.Time to die,he told himself.Time to show them how a Lydgate dies.The trap gave slightly under his feet as he planted them firmly. He dropped his gaze and scanned the crowd with an impassive face.
‘Black Jack! Black Jack!’ The shout was a chant. The upturned faces a blur.
The noose was hard and rough around his neck and he made himself not resist as the knot was jerked tight under his left ear.Not long now, Kat.
With a crack and a jolt the trap gave way under him and he fell, to be brought up with a sickening wrench. The pain was incredible, stars spun in front of his eyes, the world went red, black, then red again as he gagged for breath, but there was none to be had.
Arms wrapped themselves around his legs and dragged down as a woman’s voice screamed ‘No!’ and another body hurtled through the trap beside him. The weight on his legs vanished and he was being lifted. Frantically he dragged air down into his lungs through his tortured throat.
The noose was moving, rasping at his neck, then suddenly gave way and he was falling, colliding with bodies. This was Hell. He was dead and falling into Hell. The blow as his head met something hard sent him spinning into darkness.
Darkness. Now they were trying to drown him. Theo coughed and spat as water trickled into his mouth and a voice he knew said, ‘Is he breathing?’
Katherine struggled against Arthur’s restraining arms, straining to see as the men clustered around Theo. ‘Let mego. Is he alive?’
She had been too late, too late by only minutes. Her lungs ached from the frantic race through the crowded streets, herhead throbbed with pain and her throat was raw from that single scream wrenched from her as she saw the trap open. Theo…I failed you.
John, who was bending over the figure sprawled on the table in the anteroom, looked up and nodded. ‘Aye, Miss Katherine, he’ll do. He’ll have a powerfully sore throat for a while yet though.’
‘Thank God. Oh thank God. Arthur will youpleaselet me go.’ Katherine shook him off and ran to bend over Theo. She took his filthy hand in hers and rubbed it. ‘Why doesn’t he open his eyes?’
In response the limp figure stirred, said, ‘Urgh.’ He coughed, grimaced and tried again. ‘Hell.’ It sounded more like a statement than an oath.
‘Theo, open your eyes,’ Katherine urged.
