Arabella (29 page)

             
'Be quiet – or I'll have you flogged,' the judge said directing his baleful stare at the woman in the crowd.  He beckoned to one of the officials and whispered to him for a moment, then looked at Arabella. 'You were drunk when you were brought before the magistrate.  He says you quarrelled with your lover and killed him.'

             
'That is a lie.  Jack Meadows was never my lover.  He wanted to be but I refused him and he tried to force me…'

             
'So you killed him.'  The magistrate whispered again and Judge Harding nodded.  'You hit him with a poker – there was blood on the edge of the iron.'

             
'I defended myself but the blow did not kill him.  He fell and hit his head on the iron fender.'

             
'You stand convicted out of your own mouth, woman,' the judge said, his eyes hard and cold as they swept over her with disgust.  Arabella flinched, knowing what she must look like, for she had not washed in days and her hair was straggling down her back in greasy strands.  'Give me one reason why I should not hang you.'

             
'Because I am innocent and in your heart you know it.'

             
The judge's eyes narrowed.  'You do not plead your belly?'

             
'I am not with child, sir, and I do not lie.'

             
He looked stunned for a moment, seeming almost to believe her, then he frowned and shook his head.  'Transportation for seven years hard labour.'

             
Arabella was too shocked to protest as the turnkey hustled her away.  Seven years hard labour!  She was to be transported to the colonies, which were as far as she knew, a wilderness.  She had heard people talk of the uncivilised colonists who were always causing trouble, but knew little else of them.

             
'Yer lucky,' the turnkey muttered as he pushed her from the room, into which still more poor wretches were being hustled.  'He needs to fill a transport ship leavin' from Greenwich within a few days.  That 'ull be why he didn't 'ang yer.'

             
'Where are you taking me?' Arabella asked for she had realised that they were not going back the way they had come.

             
'Yer've 'ad yer trial,' he replied.  'We've got ter get rid of some of yer or they'll 'ave no room fer the next lot.'

             
'It is little wonder the prisons are so overcrowded if everyone is treated as I have been,' Arabella said.  'If the magistrate had listened to me in the first place I should never have been brought here.'

             
'They all say as they ain't guilty when they get caught,' the turnkey told her.  'Think yerself lucky yer ain't gallows bait, mistress.  He were in a hurry and you upset 'im.  'Tis a wonder he didn't order a flogging.'

             
Arabella shivered inwardly as she recalled the expression in the judge's eyes.  For a moment as he'd looked at her he had known that she was telling the truth, but it had not weighed with him – other than the restraint shown over her insistence on being heard.  Three other prisoners had not been so lucky.

             
Yet she was innocent and she was being transported for seven years!  It was so unfair.  She could not believe all this had happened to her in so short a time.  But perhaps she was fortunate that her trial had been so swift, for how long could she have survived on the food she had been given in her cell? Some of the other prisoners looked ill and seemed hardly able to stand.  At least she was healthy.

             
Herded together with other men and women waiting in the prison yard for transportation, Arabella wondered how she would fare on the ship taking them to America.

             
'Cheer up, lass,' a man said as she smothered a sob of despair.  'It ain't so bad.  They say it's better over there than 'ere in lots o' ways.  A better place see – once you've served yer time.'

             
'But I didn't do anything…'

             
'No, 'course yer didn't,' the man agreed and grinned at her.  'Most of us are innocent – what's wrong in taking a loaf of bread when yer kid's ungry?  Half of us ain't done nuthin' much – but I reckon as we'll be better off there once we earn our freedom.  They say the colonists are sick of being under British rule.  One of these days they'll break free and then maybe we'll be free too.'

             
'Might as well 'ope fer the moon,' another voice said from behind him.  'They'll want their money's worth, mark my words.  Yer bond is fer seven years and yer will 'ave ter serve it, Nat.'

             
'Yer a bleedin' cheerful bitch, Peg,' he said but without rancour.  'I've 'eard 'tis a better place, see, and I'm glad I got transportation.'

             
'Considerin' what yer done, yer lucky,' the woman called Peg said with a wide grin.  'They ought ter 'ave 'ung yer, yer rogue.'

             
'It were an accident,' Nat said and winked at her.  'Me pistol went orf on its own just when I were taking 'is purse. Bleedin' thing never were reliable. Still, I'm lucky ter 'ave got away with transportation.  I expected him to hang me.'

             
'Are you a highwayman?' Arabella looked at him in surprise.  He had seemed such an innocent, pleasant fellow.

             
'Worst o' the lot,' Peg chortled.  'They've 'ad a price on 'im fer years and he's lucky ter get away wiv it.'

             
'Now, Peg, yer'll 'ave this nice young lady thinkin' bad o' me if yer not careful.'

             
'Good thing an' all,' Peg said and laughed good-naturedly.  'Don't believe a word 'e says, luv.  You stay along o' Peg.  I'll look after yer.  I'll bet yer've never been in trouble afore yer topped that blighter, 'ave yer?'

             
'I merely pushed him away.  He was trying to rape me.  He hit his head as he fell.'

             
'Yer poor cow,' Peg said.  'I know what it's like wiv customers.  They think they can treat us as rough as they like and it don't matter – but raise a 'and to them or take their purse and see where yer end up.'

             
'Is that what happened to you?'

             
'Peg ain't a whore,' Nat said and grinned.  'She's one of the best cutpurses in the business.  Watch yer back or she'll 'ave the gown right orf yer.'

             
'You watch yer mouth or I'll shut it fer yer,' Peg said but it was clear she liked the man and was enjoying the exchange between them.  'I like yer, lass – what did yer say yer name was?'

             
'My friends call me Bella.'

             
'That's a pretty name,' she said.  ''Ave yer got any money wiv yer, Bella?  Yer can pay fer extra food and stuff if yer 'ave.'

             
'No – only this ring.'  Arabella took a ring from inside her bodice.  'I hid it when I was taken to the prison.'

             
'Best thing yer could 'ave done,' Peg said.  'When we go on board you give it to me and I'll bargain wiv the crew ter look after us…'

             
'Give it ter Peg and that's the last yer'll see of it,' Nat warned her.  'Give it 'ere, lass, and I'll take care of it fer yer.  It's too good to give to a sailor.  The captain is the one fer you, lass.  You might be able to buy yer own bond when yer get there wiv that.'

             
'Don't trust 'im, Bella,' Peg said.  'I'll treat yer fair.'

             
Arabella looked from one to the other uncertainly.  She thought of the two Nat was probably the more trustworthy, but before she could decide they were moved along, parted by the turnkeys who were herding them into carts to drive them to the docks, where the ship was waiting to take them to their servitude.

             
Arabella thrust the ring back into her bodice.  She saw Peg watching her with avarice and knew that she would have to think of a new place to hide her ring or she might wake up one day to find it had gone.

             
Gone as her life had gone, vanished into thin air, leaving her only memories.  As she entered the cart taking her away from the prison she searched the faces of the people gathered in the street, hoping to see the one she longed for, but there was no sign of him.  But of course he would not be here.  Why should he?  He had told her it was over.  Even if he knew what had happened he would not care.

             
Women were weeping, calling out to their men, promising to follow them to America.  Half-starved children stared at fathers and mothers being carried away from them, wiping their dripping noses on the rags they wore.  Men watched from the side of the road, eyes sullen, angry at the fate of those they knew as friends or brothers, unable to do anything, cursing the unfairness of a society in which life was cheap.

             
Arabella turned as she felt someone move nearer to her and saw that it was Peg.

             
'I ain't goin' ter steal yer ring, Bella,' she said.  'But if yer sell it yer can 'elp me and I'll 'elp you.  It ain't easy in them 'olds and yer will need someone ter look out fer yer.'

             
'Thank you for the offer,' Arabella said.  'I shall speak to the captain and offer him the ring as soon as I can.  Nat is right – it is too valuable to offer to the sailors and we'll be cheated.'

             
'As long as yer goin' ter share…'

             
'Of course I will, Peg,' Arabella said.  'You are my friend, and I know you will look out for me.  I'll sell the ring and we'll share the money.'

             
'That's it,' Peg said and grinned at her, showing a row of blackened teeth.  'You share the money and I'll see as none of them thievin' rascals get their 'ands on it.'

             
Arabella smiled.  She didn't trust Peg for one minute, but it was as well to remain on good terms with her if possible – at least until she knew how things stood on board the ship.

             
She could only protect what she had and hope that she might be able to do as Nat had suggested when they reached the colony.

             
Until this moment she had hoped that Gervase might forgive her and help her, but now she knew that it had been foolish to hope.  There was no one to help her, and if she was to survive she must live by her own wits.

'Gone – gone where?' Gervase demanded as he looked at the girl who had admitted him into the house.  He could see that no cleaning had been done in sometime and wondered what had been happening here.  'You had best explain yourself, Rutford.'

             
'They took her off to prison nearly two weeks ago, my lord – for murder it were.'

             
'Murder – Arabella?'  Gervase felt a cold shiver down his spine.  'Who was she supposed to have murdered?'

             
'It was your friend, sir.  Mr Meadows.'

             
'Jack…'  The icy chill was spreading through him, echoing something…a dream or premonition he had once had.  'Why has no one thought to let me know? What happened?  I want to know the truth, girl – all of it!'

             
'Mistress Tucker was…drinking, sir.  She had been drinking most of the time since you left…'

             
'And?' Gervase frowned.  'What happened the night Jack Meadows came here?'

             
'She refused to see him, sir.  Sent all the gentlemen away she did – and said she would see only you.  But he walked into the parlour where she was without a by your leave and then I heard them arguing and she started screaming, and when I went in he were lying there with blood coming out of his head and his eyes staring.  She'd hit him with the fire iron, sir – though she swore he fell and hit his head.  There was blood on the iron, plain for all to see.'

             
Gervase nodded, his expression grim.  'And what happened next?'

             
'I raised the alarm, my lord – and they took her off to the magistrate and then the prison so I've heard.'

             
'And what has been happening here?'  He looked at the mess around him.  'Did she not send for her clothes or money?'

             
'No, my lord – leastwise I've heard nothing.'

             
'Send her housekeeper to me.  I would have words with her.'  He saw the expression in the maid's eyes and frowned.  'Very well, the butler then or head footman?'

             
'All gone, sir,' the maid told him falteringly.  'They went the next day – said they wouldn't work in the house of a murderess.'

             
'But you stayed?'