London in Chains (17 page)

Paul began almost as soon as they were out of the door: he'd travelled to London with a neighbour who had business in the capital; the neighbour was returning to Hinckley in three days' time. Paul meant to go with him – and take Lucy.

‘But I don't
want
to go back to Hinckley!' Lucy protested again. ‘I am
happy
here, I have friends, and work I like. I earn three shillings a week!'

Paul cast a horrified eye at the chaos of London Bridge. ‘How can you like this hellish city? And
three shillings
, for a
woman
? Cousin Geoffrey must be right, and this work is no honest employment: else why should they pay so much?'

‘It is entirely honest!' she said hotly. ‘And soon, God willing, it will be lawful, as well!'

‘So Geoffrey told the truth, and it's
not
lawful!'

She tried to explain about Parliament and the Army, about levelling hedges and natural law, and about Cousin Geoffrey's disappointment and the parliamentary clerk. In passing she mentioned what Ned had said about a Parliament-man having an eye on the land.

‘
Ned's
here?' Paul asked in astonishment.

She stared at him blankly. She couldn't think how he knew Ned.

‘When did he come?' Paul demanded eagerly. ‘Did he seek you out?'

She realized that he thought she meant her former sweetheart; realized at the same time that she'd forgotten there'd ever been such a man. To think she might have
married
Ned Bartram! That she might have become Mrs Bartram, the obedient wife of a smug, mean-minded dullard!

‘Not
that
Ned, Paul! Ned
Trebet
, the keeper of The Whalebone Tavern, where I dine most days.' It occured to her, with relief, that this might be a way to divert Paul from the printworks. ‘Here, we'll stop there, and I'll introduce you. Then you'll see that my friends are honest people!'

The yard of The Whalebone was bustling: two ostlers were saddling horses, Nancy was arguing with a tradesman, and a tired-looking Ned was paying a carter for a load of bread. He broke off with a smile when Lucy came up, then directed a look of surprise at Paul.

‘Ned,' she said, very glad to see his face, ‘God bless you! Paul, here is Ned Trebet, keeper of The Whalebone Tavern; Ned, this is my brother Paul, fresh-come from Hinckley. He heard tales which alarmed him, and he wishes me to come home with him.'

Ned stared at Paul in dismay, then looked anxiously at Lucy. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Lucy abruptly realized that he thought the ‘tales' were about murder, and hastily added, ‘My cousin Geoffrey, of whom I told you, has been filling their ears at home with stories of Uncle Thomas's sedition. I've been trying to tell Paul that he's been misled, and that our friends are honest well-affected people, but I doubt I've convinced him.'

‘Ah!' exclaimed Ned, relieved – but only briefly. His brows drew down into a heavy frown. ‘He wishes you to
leave London
?'

‘To come home, aye!' agreed Paul, frowning back. ‘And I pray you excuse me, Mr Trebet, but for aught I can see Cousin Geoffrey was right, and our uncle has allowed my sister to trespass in a very dangerous business.'

‘Don't blame Uncle Thomas, Paul!' Lucy said sharply. ‘He misliked my work from the start and nearly forbade it several times, but I persuaded him to it.'

‘He was ever a weak man,' Paul replied, with contempt, ‘and unable to govern a woman.'

It was exactly the sort of thing their father would have said, but Lucy had expected better from Paul. She stared in cold anger. ‘Then I must be the more to blame, for abusing his weakness!'

‘Nay!' exclaimed Paul, sensing that something had gone wrong. ‘It was his place to judge what was safe and to protect you from—'

‘Oh, say what you mean!' snapped Lucy. ‘You think Uncle Thomas must be either wicked or foolish, and I am too silly to understand that or anything else! What cause did I ever give you to think so poorly of my wits?'

‘Mistress Wentnor, good day!' said another voice. They all looked round and saw Captain Wildman, booted and spurred for riding and carrying a despatch bag. Apparently one of those freshly saddled horses was his.

‘This is Lucy's
brother
,' Ned broke in angrily. ‘He wishes to take her from London!'

Wildman regarded Paul with surprise. ‘What's
this
?'

‘Sir,' said Paul stiffly, ‘who you are I know not . . .'

‘Captain John Wildman, at your service!'

‘. . . but
indeed
I wish to take my sister home, for it seems to me that here she is in danger!'

‘So are we all,' Wildman replied. ‘In danger of losing all we have fought for these long years; and if we preserve our freedoms, it will be in part through your sister's steadfast diligence. Sir, I am very sorry to hear what you say, that you mean to take her from London while our need of the press is so great. Will you give me leave to argue our case with you?'

Paul stared suspiciously.

‘Sir. Let me first ask you this: do you believe our cause is just?'

‘Sir,' replied Paul in surprise, ‘I scarcely know what your cause
is
!'

‘And yet would hinder it? That's as to say, I know not what my sister does, yet I will put a stop to it! Should you not first inform yourself what it
is
you wish to stop?'

‘I know it puts her in danger!'

‘If
danger
were reason enough to stop a thing, nothing would ever be done! Childbearing puts a woman in more danger than ever your sister suffers here in London. Would you therefore forbid her to marry?'

Paul gaped, then scowled. ‘I see you are skilled at argument.'

Wildman gave a little bow. ‘I read law, sir, at Cambridge.'

That had an effect. Cousin Geoffrey's account of Thomas's seditious friends had not led Paul to expect a Cambridge-educated lawyer among them.

‘Paul,' said Lucy, striking while he was off-balance, ‘you should speak with Captain Wildman. Why should you believe Geoffrey's report before you even hear the other side of the story? For my part, though I'm very glad to see you, and though I never want to quarrel with you, I would rather beg in the street than go back to Hinckley! You know very well that I would be wretched there. Our father has no wish to have me under his roof again.'

Paul winced. He glanced at Wildman and at Ned, then nodded. ‘Very well. I'll listen.'

Lucy kissed him and went off to work, feeling much happier.

Jamie was already at work when she arrived. He stopped, leaning on the press with a smile. ‘You're late. I was beginning to fear that events yesterday made you ill.'

‘Oh, no, indeed, but I have a
new
trouble! My brother has arrived from Hinckley. He wants to take me home, but—'

Jamie, however, had stopped smiling. ‘Take you home?'

‘Aye. Not because . . . that is, he knows nothing of what happened yesterday. He's come because a cousin has been telling tales of my uncle's seditious friends. By God's grace, though, we met your Captain Wildman at The Whalebone.' She smiled. ‘He's the quickest disputer I ever heard! If he can't win Paul over, no one can.'

Jamie was frowning. He started to speak, then stopped himself. He tried again. ‘Most wenches would be happy to go home after an attack such as you suffered yesterday.'

She frowned. ‘I am unlike most wenches, then.'

‘Aye,' he agreed readily.

She stared in hurt affront, and he quickly raised his bad hand, as though to ward off a blow. ‘You've wit enough for two, and spirit enough for three.'

She was flattered and touched. ‘I told Paul I'd rather beg in the street than go home. It was bad enough just to be known . . . known to be spoiled goods. If I were spoiled goods brought back from London in disgrace, my life would be pitiable indeed.' She paused, studying his scarred face. ‘
You
should understand that: you won't go back to Lincolnshire!'

He gave a small snort of recognition and looked away. ‘I'd no wish to see my sisters cry when they set eyes on me. Aye, and the pretty girls I used to court would all scream and stare. I'd be spoiled goods come home, and very soon stinking rotten with drink.'

They were both silent a moment, contemplating the impossibility of ever going home. ‘Do you write to them?' she asked.

He made a face and shook his head. ‘John wrote to tell them I was wounded. He's sent them news once or twice since. I . . . have tried, but it's as though I had to make myself known in some other language, and I know not how to begin.'

‘Aye,' she agreed, swallowing.

They looked at one another again. He smiled warmly. ‘I'm glad you won't be leaving us.'

‘Ah, but whether or not I do depends more on your Captain Wildman's quick tongue than on my will!'

‘You do your will an injustice, for it's a good strong one, and I'd wager on it against your brother. But John Wildman's wits are always worth enlisting. I've told you: I trust him with my life.'

Jamie's trust was justified: when they returned to The Whalebone for dinner, they found Paul thoughtfully reading a copy of John Lilburne's
Regal Tyranny Discovered.
Wildman, he said, had left for St Albans, but it was clear that he'd made a deep impression. Paul asked about Lilburne and the cause, then joined Lucy, Jamie and Ned for dinner and asked some more.

However, over the course of the meal a distraction far more potent than Lilburne emerged: Richard Symonds. Lucy told Paul all about the incident at The Whalebone, adding that she'd already written to their father – though, for Ned's sake, she described Symonds as a ‘cattle-thief'.

Paul was thrilled: he had come to London to rescue his sister, but a chance to get
justice
for her was even better. He downed the rest of his ale in a gulp and set off for the Guildhall to demand that the Committee of Safety arrest Symonds and send him for trial at Leicester assizes. Lucy made no effort to dissuade him, though she felt uncomfortable about it. She told herself that to draw Paul aside to explain that Symonds had been murdered would seem suspicious to anyone watching, but she knew that really she was relieved to have found such a good distraction. Not only did chasing Symonds keep Paul's attention off his sister, it reinforced for the authorities the impression that Symonds and his friend had fled. She and Jamie went back to work.

When she saw her brother again that evening, he was white with outrage: the Committee had been as short with him as with Lucy.

‘The whoreson rogues!' he complained. ‘They said that they
had no legal complaint
against these men, that
no charge had been made
! I'll charge them, the stinking curs!'

Lucy thought of telling him the truth, but how could she broach the subject of
murder
in the house when Agnes had given her instructions to lie about seditious printing?

She remained uneasily silent as Paul spent the next two days marching between the London courts and the Guildhall with applications and affidavits. In all this time there was no enquiry into the disappearance of the two Reformadoes: the Committee of Safety was evidently relieved to be rid of an embarrassment. Eventually their clerk admitted to Paul that Richard Symonds had disappeared.

Paul was bound to set off back to Leicestershire with the Hinckley neighbour the following morning: he didn't have the money to stay longer.

‘I'll get Da to sue for a warrant,' he told Lucy that evening. ‘He'll stir himself for
this
!'

Her vision of her father descending on London returned, and she winced. A quest for
justice
now might end in Jamie being hanged for murder: she had to put a stop to it. ‘Paul,' she said, ‘will you . . . will you come down to church to pray with me about this?' St Olave's would almost certainly be empty at this time on a weekday evening.

It turned out to be locked. Paul tried the door, then turned to go to look for a verger with the key; Lucy caught his arm. The church porch was sheltered, dark and quiet, good enough for her purposes. ‘In truth I need only to talk to you,' she said nervously. ‘Paul, I'm sorry, I should not have let you waste your effort, but I feared to speak where anyone might overhear! Richard Symonds is dead, he and his friend both. They came to my printworks to murder me, and Jamie Hudson killed them both, the day you arrived in London.'

Paul reeled. He demanded the details and then wasn't sure how to respond to them: glee that justice had been done; bewilderment that they dared not say so; anger at the way he'd made a fool of himself with his affidavits.

‘But, Paul, that helped to save me!' Lucy protested. ‘It must have convinced the Committee that they'd run off and I knew nothing of it! If they'd investigated, Jamie might have been hanged, and perhaps me as well!'

It was an exaggeration, but it mollified Paul. ‘Jamie Hudson is the one with half a face?' he said. ‘I should thank him.'

‘Nay, nay, nay! You should forget you ever heard me name him. Paul, the Committee
rules
here and it would hang him! But tell Da.'

‘Aye,' said Paul wondering. ‘God has revenged the innocent! All praise to Him!'

Lucy thought that God would have done better to
protect
the innocent but shunted the blasphemous thought aside.

Paul duly left next morning. He was still not really happy about what his sister was doing, but he was sympathetic to her reasons for it and he promised to tell their father that Geoffrey had greatly exaggerated. Richard Symonds and his fate were a much greater concern: Paul was still marvelling at the workings of divine justice, and Lucy decided that she must to write to him, to remind him that publicizing the mighty works of God would lead to human injustice. She kissed her brother goodbye and went back to the press with a sigh of relief.