The Girl in the Mask (21 page)

I paused, staring at her resentfully. She laughed again and I grinned reluctantly in return. Walking back to my rickety chair, I said: ‘I need your help.’

‘The help of a common thief?’ asked Jenny with a self-derisive snort.

‘I would prefer to describe you as an out-of-the-ordinary thief,’ I said.

‘No, Miss La-di-da, there’s dozens like me in every city.’

‘I wish you will call me Sophia,’ I said. ‘Listen. An expedition has been arranged for tomorrow, after church. A Captain Mould is to take us out of the city for the day. We’re driving up to Lansdown for a picnic.’ I sighed. In different company it would be an agreeable change to life within the city walls.

‘What do you need me for?’ Jenny asked me curiously. The self-derisive note had gone from her voice.

‘It would give me
so
much pleasure to see Captain Mould robbed,’ I said with a grin. ‘You and your father can keep anything you take.’ Jenny looked less than thrilled. ‘Isn’t that what you wanted?’ I asked. ‘To know when rich people are leaving the city?’

‘A day trip,’ said Jenny disparagingly. ‘No one won’t be carrying much in the way of money, and you’ll be back before dusk. Me father won’t risk holding up a chaise in broad daylight.’

‘I see.’ I paused, remembering how the chairmen had wanted to rob me of my gown. ‘What about our clothing, and the men’s swords and wigs?’ I asked. ‘Everyone will be finely dressed for an excursion.’

Jenny nodded slowly as she turned this over in her mind.

‘Good. So then I need to find a way of delaying our return,’ I said. ‘Do you have any ideas?’

A sparkle appeared in Jenny’s eyes as she considered this. ‘The coach could be disabled,’ she suggested. ‘That would make you late back.’

‘Tell me how,’ I said. ‘And I’ll do it.’

I was weary when I finally hoisted myself up onto the roof of the stable. The sky was pink with the dawn, the short summer night already over. As I scrambled up the drainpipe from the stable roof, firm hands grasped me and pulled me up. I cried out in shock. ‘For your own sake you should keep quiet,’ said a familiar voice. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’

‘Mr Charleton,’ I gasped. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Waiting for you, naturally. What a stupid question.’

I was astonished to be discovered and annoyed by his tone. ‘Why? And how on earth did you know I’d climb up this way?’

Charleton leaned back against the side of the house. He looked quite at his ease on the rooftops, his immaculate clothes unwrinkled and not a hair of his wig out of place. He’d exchanged his smart boots for a less smart pair of pumps with flat heels. There was a particularly grim look on his face which made me uneasy.

‘For goodness’ sake, Sophia, did you think I wouldn’t recognize the clothes I’d helped you buy? As to finding your route back into the house, it was obviously not going to be by the front door, was it? I’ve known about it since the night at the theatre.’

‘I could have sworn you didn’t see me tonight,’ I exclaimed, annoyed. ‘And did you follow me home from the theatre?’

‘I don’t always show the world what I notice,’ said Mr Charleton. ‘And yes, I did. What did you mean by lying to me about those clothes being for a godson?’

‘I could hardly tell you the truth could I? It’s really none of your business! Besides, no harm has come to me.’

Mr Charleton looked at me, his face inscrutable. ‘It’s not you I’m worried about. You are making it abundantly clear that you can look after yourself. Where have you been?’

‘Again, that is absolutely nothing to do with you.’

Mr Charleton didn’t get angry, as I half expected, instead he sighed. ‘Come, Miss Williams, shall we be a little more frank with one another?’

I wondered what he expected me to tell him. I wasn’t going to betray my friends or myself. I stood silent, waiting for a more definite accusation from him.

‘Miss Williams, you heard the talk in the rooms, this afternoon!’ he said at last. ‘Let us be honest with each other at least. I know your family have Jacobite sympathies. You support the Pretender. I don’t seek to change your mind or judge you. But, Sophia, take care what you are about!’

I opened my eyes wide in amazement. Even his use of my name passed almost unnoticed. ‘But none of that is anything to do with me!’ I cried, half-angry, half-relieved that he didn’t know the truth. ‘I don’t give a tinker’s pot what king is on the throne! I just want to go out.’

Mr Charleton looked sceptical. ‘I’m more than willing to believe you are involved for the sake of the thrills alone. But listen to me a moment! Our country is in a state of unrest. We have a Hanoverian king on the throne, put there by parliament to prevent the succession falling into Catholic hands. Many, many people are unhappy with the choice. Treachery, uprisings, even full scale rebellion are afoot; we don’t yet know the sum of it.’

He paused, waiting for a reaction. ‘It sounds very exciting,’ I said candidly.

‘It’s not exciting, it’s dangerous. Have you any idea what an uprising on this scale would be like? Windows smashed, shops looted, buildings blown up, bloodshed in the streets. Possibly even a civil war. I’ve no wish to see such devastation.’

‘Nor me,’ I said taken aback. ‘And, sir, truly, it’s nothing to do with me! This is almost the first I’ve heard of any of it!’

‘Oh, I’m certain you know all this,’ he said impatiently. ‘I’m giving you a chance to get clear, Sophia. I don’t want you to get hurt. Because trust me, this rebellion or whatever is being planned here in the Bath is doomed to failure.’

‘I repeat: none of this is anything to do with me. And anyway, why should you care about me?’ I asked.

‘I’ve asked myself the same question many times. You are a damned troublesome child, Sophia! If I’d dreamed you’d dress yourself in those boy’s clothes, I’d have put you over my shoulder and carried you straight home before I helped you buy them! If what you say is true, then at least promise me you won’t go out until this is over!’

‘You have to be jesting!’ I exclaimed. ‘You have no right, no authority over me at all. I’ll make you no such promise.’

‘You may think this is a jest, Miss Williams. I don’t. If you won’t give me your word, I shall require those clothes from you,’ said Mr Charleton. ‘If I can’t get you to understand how dangerous the situation is, then I must take steps to enforce your safety and the safety of the city!’

I made a move to escape, turning to flee up to my room, but Mr Charleton caught me around the waist and pulled me back to face him. He was suddenly very close, his dark eyes looking down into mine, a stern expression in them. I struggled frantically, heart hammering. ‘Please, you don’t understand, you have no idea!’ I cried as I fought him. ‘My life is unendurable. What do I care about politics? How can they matter to me compared to the life I’m condemned to lead? I’m confined and hemmed in, allowed to exercise neither my mind nor my body. I would go insane without some escape. This is all I have!’

‘How can I trust your word? You’ve lied to me often enough.’

‘I’m not lying now!’ I said hotly. His closeness was affecting me; I could smell the sweetness of his breath and feel the warmth of his body against mine. I ceased struggling, hoping instead to reason with him.

‘Then you do not need to go out at night! You say you are confined, but it’s not true. You go out to the baths, to Harrison’s, and to balls. You walk, you dance. Why is that not enough for you?’

‘How should that be enough?’ I asked, trying to keep my voice reasonable, but failing. ‘No books except for religious ones, no learning at all. Embroidery and music, both of which I abominate! Dawdling along in a ridiculous gown at my aunt’s side, exchanging nothings with people I don’t care about. Waiting to be married to an old man like Captain Mould who will be as bad as my father. Being told what to do, even what to think! Would that be enough for you? To never be allowed more? To have no
hope
?’

I’d succeeded in startling Mr Charleton with my vehemence; his hold on me slackened. I twisted and leapt away from him. Slipping on the slate tiles, I scrambled up over the roof. I ran full-pelt along the parapet, ignoring the dizzying drop to my right, pretending it was safe to take the route at this speed. I could hear Mr Charleton behind me, but not close enough to catch me. I slid in through my open window and slammed it shut before he could reach me, closing the wooden shutters across the window so he couldn’t look in. I could hear him tapping on the glass, but ignored him. I’d escaped this time, but the man was becoming a serious inconvenience.

I awoke after four hours’ sleep to a hot, sultry day, the sun already burning down on the new houses. I wondered, not for the first time, at the gentry choosing to spend the hottest months of the year walled up in a crowded, humid city in the bottom of a river valley. They could scarcely have found a stuffier, more airless spot.

By the time we’d been to prayers and were climbing into Captain Mould’s hired chaise outside our house at eleven o’clock, the heat was intolerable. Trim Street was like an oven. The chaise was crowded with the captain, one of his cronies and his wife, and the two of us, but it did at least have a hood that could be drawn down, so there would be fresh air around us. I was crushed onto a seat that was too small to accommodate three, between Aunt Amelia and Mrs Wicklow, a woman of dubious personal hygiene and a tendency to sweat profusely.

The day was intolerably dull. The fresher air and fine views were all ruined for me by the suffocating presence of Captain Mould, who stayed as close to me as my own shadow. I struggled to keep my temper, and began to wonder how I was to sabotage the coach unnoticed.

At noon, Captain Mould’s servants laid out a picnic in the shade of some beech trees. Captain Mould leaned in towards me smiling his yellow-toothed smile, his thin cheeks stained brown from his snuff habit. ‘Can I tempt you … with a little light luncheon, Miss Williams?’ he leered into my face.

I shuddered. ‘To luncheon you can, but to nothing else I assure you!’

‘Sophia!’ My aunt spoke sharply. ‘You misunderstand the captain.’

I was silent, knowing I hadn’t misunderstood. Captain Mould smirked.

After luncheon, which consisted of cold meats, freshly-baked bread, fruit and a light white wine, everyone fell quiet. The heat was oppressive and it seemed none of the adults had any inclination to leave the shade. My aunt fell asleep with her mouth open, and Mrs Wicklow soon followed her example, though she managed to be more discreet about it. The atmosphere grew somnolent. The steady hum of bees, flies, and other insects around us was hypnotic. I fought the lassitude, knowing this was my chance. Seeing the others sleeping, Captain Mould’s eyes gleamed and he drew closer to me. I turned my back to him pointedly, lying down beside my aunt, feigning sleep.

Captain Mould must have given up on me, for I heard him suggest a walk to Mr Wicklow. I waited until they were out of sight before I got up and walked back across the field to the carriage. The sun was scorching, the ground baked hard. My skin burned and my petticoats stuck to me uncomfortably, but I was wide awake once more.

There were several other groups of day-trippers dotted here and there under the trees, enjoying luncheon or resting in the shade. I wondered if all their parties were as dull and ill-assorted as ours. A burst of distant laughter told me that at least one was merrier than us.

Our horses had been unharnessed and stood under the leafy canopy of a large beech tree, skin twitching, tails swishing to shoo away unwelcome insects. The chaise stood beside them, the hood pulled up now, ready for the drive home. I looked around for the coachman and groom. They were leaning over a gate further down the field, exchanging compliments with a group of farm girls who were probably taking a break from haymaking.

I went to the near carriage wheel and drew the small metal tool Jenny had given me out of my pocket. It had been knocking uncomfortably against my leg all morning. I unwrapped it from my pocket handkerchief and bent down by the wheel, searching quickly for the pegs Jenny had described to me. I found one, but I couldn’t shift it, even with her tool, so I crawled under the carriage and tried the other wheel. Here I was luckier, able to loosen two pegs until they were ready to drop out. I left them loose, trusting my handiwork wouldn’t be noticed.