Page 2 of Twin Flames
His sinister laugh echoed around the freezing cell as the door slammed and his keys jangled in the lock. Cara shivered and ran her hands up and down her arms in an attempt to warm her chilled skin.
Her eyes adjusted to the meagre light and she was surprised to find the man from the bookshop sitting alongside her on the floor. Her hand lay casually across his thigh. It was an intimate gesture, and he seemed at ease as if it was the most normal arrangement. The disconcerting thing was that it felt normal to her too.
‘Don’t worry my darling wife. We’ll figure this out. It’s simply an unfortunate misunderstanding. At least the children will be fine at Willow Manor with my parents, and they won’t know any different.’
I’m in prison. Wife, children, Willow Manor!
He turned and pulled her slim body against his and stroked her tangled hair. Her eyelids grew heavy, and a wave of exhaustion hit her as she slumped on his shoulder and took solace in his embrace.
George savoured the comforting tickle of his wife’s breath on his neck as she dozed. He didn’t want to move for fear of disturbing her. They’d been apart for too long; he’d yearned to have her close and had been terrified he would never see her again after the recent tumultuous days at King Henry’s court.
Unlike most marriages between nobles, theirs was a love match. Cara had been Anne Boleyn’s favourite lady-in-waiting right up until the end. How could they have known the threat of the executioner would be the outcome of Cara’s royal appointment to the queen? And even if they had known when Cara received the summons to join George at court, they had no choice but to obey the royal edict.
George grew weary and lost track of time; it could have been five or forty minutes later. He removed his jacket, taking care not to wake Cara. She stirred as he folded the material into a makeshift pillow and eased her head down on to it so she could sleep undisturbed. He had work to do, and he wanted her to gather her strength. She had endured a terrible few days, not knowing what had become of him after he was arrested. He must find a way to get them out of here before the trial tomorrow. They were accused of treason and Cara faced an additional charge of witchcraft. If they went before Henry VIII’s court, the odds would be stacked against them, and they would have little chance of escaping the hangman.
George wouldn’t permit anything to happen to Cara. What would become of their boy, Thomas, and their daughter, May, if they were both executed? Besides, he’d rather die than lose her. Life would be unbearable without Cara in his world.
Failure was not an option. He must find a way to save his family, and he must act now, or it would be too late.
‘May I serve you, my lord?’ asked an impish looking lad emerging from the shadows. He was scrawny, but Georgeguessed he must be at least nine years of age. He had wise eyes which belied his years.
George was startled. ‘How do you know who I am?’
‘My eldest brother is in your service in York, Sir: he’s a stable boy. Never seen him so content. He sings your praises. He said you run a fine household and treat your servants fair.’
The boy doffed his cap and inclined his head towards him.
Possibleplans flitted about George’s tired brain, but options were limited with the trial due to take place early tomorrow morning.
‘That’s very kind of you. I may need your help. What’s your name, boy?’
‘Everyone calls me Swifty on account of my being so quick.’
‘I see,’ said George, smiling at the boy and instantly liking him.
He sensed he could trust him.
‘I can help you to escape, my lord. I’ve been locked in here before and escaped through the secret cellar. The night guard is a drunk and sleeps like the dead once he’s down. I’m planning to make a run for it tonight.’
‘If you truly can help us to escape before the trial, we’ll take you with us, and you will be well rewarded for your efforts. Now tell me, how on earth do we get out of this hellhole?’
Swifty held up one grubby finger and pressed it tightly against his lips, urging George to be quiet. He turned and beckoned George to follow him and then darted towards the other side of the long, dimly lit cell.
‘Here, my lord, do you see over there?’ the boy pointed to the bottom section of the filthy wall. ‘If it’s the same as last time I was in the clink, we can squeeze through. It’s stinky and dangerous though, my lord. I don’t know if my lady will be able to get down there. It ain’t no place for a lady.’
‘Don’t worry about that. She’s no ordinary lady. Show me exactly what you mean.’
They knelt next to the wall, and George saw what the boy meant. He could hear a gurgle below and the stench accosted his nostrils as he lowered his head. It was a long shot, but he believed they could squeeze through the narrow opening and enter the putrid underworld of Newgate. From there, Swifty assured him, they would be able to make a dash for it before daylight.
‘There’s something I haven’t told you though, my lord.’
‘Oh dear, I thought it sounded too simple. What may that be then?’
‘Others have tried to escape this way and been ambushed by prison guards as they came out. It all depends who’s on duty at the exit.’
George ran his hand through his hair and shot a rueful look at the boy. ‘We take the risk of being slaughtered by crossbow or being hauled before the court with a high probability of facing the hangman by dusk tomorrow. I fancy our chances against the crossbow.’
George and Swifty huddled in the corner and began planning the details of their escape from Newgate Prison.
