by Holly West
It had to have been Lord Danby.
She continued. “When we were in Bristol, William received a letter from Titus Oates telling him that he was privy to a scandal and had become acquainted with many powerful men. He asked William to come to London. I didn’t want to go but William promised me we’d make a fortune.” Jenny covered her hands with her face. “Oh, I should have never believed him!”
My patience diminished by the second. “Finish your story.”
She gave a loud sniffle. “We hadn’t been in London very long when William told me he’d been offered a tremendous sum to do an important job. He spied upon Sir Edmund Godfrey a couple of weeks but quickly grew bored and complained that the man paying him was a stupid fool. After he stole your diary, William had an idea to make us even more money, that no one would get hurt, but he needed my help to do it. William sent Sir Edmund a note and the page from your diary bearing his name. He told Sir Edmund he had incriminating information about him and that he wanted to meet at the White House Inn, over in St. John’s Wood. My task on that day was to distract Sir Edmund by pretending I was ill, and lure him to a private place.”
I stopped her. “Were you really so naive to believe that no one would get hurt?”
She stiffened. “I’m not so very naive, ma’am. But I was hungry. I didn’t know how we were going to survive in London with no money, so I did what I had to.” She glanced at me and then grew suddenly bold. “Not that I expect the likes of you to know what an empty stomach feels like.”
My anger flared, but I held it back. “What happened next?”
“I waited in the fields while William hid himself away. When I saw Sir Edmund approaching I heaved over and pretended my belly ached and he stopped to inquire what the matter was. William snuck up and knocked him on the head and we drug him over to a ditch so no one would see. When he came to, William tried to get some money off him by threatening to expose his visit to your rooms.”
“If all he wanted was money, how did Sir Edmund end up dead?”
“It was an accident, ma’am, I swear! If Sir Edmund hadn’t been so stubborn, he’d be alive today, I warrant you. When Sir Edmund refused to pay, William tried to strangle him into submission. But he must’ve done it too hard because next thing I knew he was dead.” She paused as though the memory pained her. “I wanted to leave straightaway but William said no. He ran the body through with Sir Edmund’s own sword then pushed it into the ditch. Said it would make it look like he killed his own self by falling atop his own sword.”
“There’s something I don’t understand, Jenny,” I asked. “If Bedloe only sent you to Mistress Ruby to find out what was going on, why did you come back?”
“My husband is a cruel man,” Jenny said. “After he killed Sir Edmund I knew I needed to escape and I thought you could help me, but I’d already lied about wanting a baby so I kept up the ruse so you’d see me.”
I didn’t know whether to believe her. She was, after all, an accomplice to murder and had burgled me not once, but twice.
“I have one last question, Jenny. Why are you here?”
Her lip began to quiver but she took a quick breath and did not cry. “If I let William get away with what he’s done, my own soul will suffer an eternity in hell.”
“Indeed, you will suffer, Jenny. I’ll make sure of it. You’ve caused a great deal of trouble for me, but I shall let you live if you agree to my terms.”
“I’ll do whatever you ask.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Monday, 18 November 1678
“Have you gone mad?” Sam demanded after she left. “You’re a fool to trust her. She’s obviously loyal to him—for God’s sake, she helped him kill a man. Why would she betray him now?”
Despite her protests that she didn’t know where they were, I’d commanded Jenny to steal my diary and ring from Bedloe and return them to me the next night at Coal Yard Alley. In exchange, I would keep silent about her involvement in Godfrey’s murder. She readily agreed, which meant she’d clearly lied about knowing where to find them. Sam was right—she couldn’t be trusted. But what choice had I now?
“I’m not interested in her reasons,” I told him. “But I need to get that diary and ring back, and I think she’s frightened enough to give them to me.”
We were to meet her at ten o’clock on Monday night. At nine Sam went downstairs to hire a hackney. Instead of my usual disguise, I wore a black cloak with a generous hood that shielded my face entirely. Before I left to join Sam, Charlotte tucked something heavy into the pocket of my cloak. I realized it was a pistol.
“Please, my lady, carry it with you,” she said.
I removed it from my pocket and gave it back to her. “It’s too burdensome, Charlotte.” She looked at me pleadingly and I touched her arm. Though she still didn’t know of Mistress Ruby’s existence, she had no doubt overheard some of my conversation with Jenny the night before and guessed something serious was afoot. “Everything will be all right, I promise.”
As soon as we got to Coal Yard Alley, Sam went to work lighting the fire. It warmed the room quickly and I removed my heavy cloak. I fidgeted in my chair, waiting. Sam stood in the corner, his body tense and rigid. Ten o’clock came and went, then ten-thirty.
“She’s not coming,” Sam said.
“We’ll stay until midnight,” I replied.
At last there was a knock on the door. Sam looked through the peephole. “It’s her,” he said. He remained at the door a few moments longer, peering into the shadows, trying to discern if Bedloe or anyone else accompanied her. “It appears she’s alone.”
She knocked again, this time louder and longer. I went to the door myself. She held a small lantern and the flickering light illuminated her form on the landing. When she saw me she became more animated, waving her arms and then knocking again. “Lady Wilde, let me in!”
“For God’s sake open the door before the entire street hears her calling me,” I said. Sam held his knife at the ready and then opened the door.
Jenny rushed inside. “I’m sorry, Lady Wilde—”
I pulled her into the room and shoved her toward the bench. “Shh! You must never call me that. Where is the diary?”
She remained standing. “I don’t have it.”
My anger flared and I raised my hand to strike her.
She cowered. “Please, m’lady, no,” she said, tears beginning to spill from the corners of her eyes. “He caught me searching for it. He knows I told you everything and he’s thrown me out of the house. I’m lucky to have escaped with my life!”
The door flew open. The impact knocked Sam off balance and he stumbled as Bedloe stormed in, shouting, “You bitch! Did you really think you could get away with this?”
He came after me with such swiftness I could do nothing to prepare myself. He pushed me down toward my chair, and I fell into it. Steadying myself, I saw Sam standing behind Bedloe with his knife raised, about to strike.
“William, watch out!” Jenny cried.
Bedloe turned at the last moment, and Sam’s blade only grazed his cheek. He whipped around and hit Sam hard with an elbow to the side of his head, making him falter.
“Sam!” I said.
Bedloe lunged for me and punched my jaw with his gloved fist. My head snapped back and I fell to the floor, dazed by pain. As I struggled to regain my senses, Sam hurled himself at Bedloe again, jumping him from behind and wrapping his arm around his neck, squeezing tight.
Bedloe’s hands flew up, straining to remove Sam’s iron grip. He staggered toward the open door, struggling for breath, with Sam firmly attached to his back. All the while, Jenny screamed and pummeled Sam with ineffectual blows.
I labored to rise, then winced and dropped again when a sharp pain shot up my arm. Sam’s weight on Bedloe’s back kept him off balance, and Bedloe toppled through the doorway and onto the landing. The force of the fall caused Sam to lose his hold on Bedloe, and he yelled as he tumbled down the stairs. A series of thuds fol
lowed and then, only silence. I scrambled toward the door, ignoring the discomfort of my arm.
Now free of constraints, Bedloe jumped up and rushed toward me. He pinned me to the floor and pulled his dagger from its sheath, holding it up to my face.
“Just give me my things, William,” I said, gasping for breath. “I’ll never say a word about what you did to Sir Edmund Godfrey.”
He laughed. “I’m sorry, Lady Wilde, but I can’t accept your offer. As it happens, your diary is of far too much value to me.”
He lowered his face to mine, so close now I could feel his hot, stinking breath. He touched the knife against my cheek, pressing the dull edge into my skin. “You were warned to stay away but you never listened. I even knocked your brother around and still you persisted. It’s your own fault you will die tonight.” He twisted the knife in his fingers, letting the jagged edge rest on my face, just below my right eye.
There’d been no sign of Sam since his fall down the stairs. He had to be badly hurt. Jenny stood cowering in the corner, of no use to anybody. If I got out of this alive, I would make certain she suffered. But now I needed to keep Bedloe talking so I could think of a way out of this current situation.
“Are you such a coward that you must blame your victims for their own deaths?” I asked. “What was Sir Edmund’s sin against you?”
He slapped me across the mouth. The cracking sound it made seemed to echo in the room and my lip began to swell.
“His only sin was being a fool,” Bedloe said. “In the wrong place at the wrong time, mixing with the wrong people.”
“And Edward Coleman?”
“A traitor. He got what he deserved.”
“God willing, so will you.”
“Don’t worry yourself over me, my dear,” Bedloe said. “I am the most famous man in England now. They will not touch me.”
“Greater men have fallen further,” I said, wiggling beneath him, trying to free myself but making little progress. His weight threatened to crush me.
“You are a clever woman, Lady Wilde. It’s one of your most attractive qualities. Well, that and your sweet cunny. Unfortunately, you’re not clever enough to save your own life and your quim isn’t worth a halfpence. It’s a shame really. I’d looked forward to more time together.”
Bedloe cut into the fabric of my dress, creating ribbons of satin down the front. I lay still, reluctant to move lest the blade slice into my skin. Then in a quick motion he tore the gown open with his hands, exposing my breasts. Instinctively I raised my arms to hide my nakedness.
“Jenny, help me!” I cried. I thought I heard her moving, but the corner of the desk blocked my line of vision.
“There is no need for modesty,” Bedloe said, snarling.
So my fate was to be rape as well as death. My fear was total, but I would not show it. “You shall never again have me willingly!” I said, raising my head slightly to spit up at him. My spittle sprayed my own face and ran down my chin, barely touching him.
He covered me with his body, using one arm to hold me down and the other to free himself from his breeches. The weight of him on top of me remained oppressive and I had trouble breathing.
“Get off her, William!” Jenny screamed, scurrying up behind him. Would she be the one to save me? Incredible as it was, she was my only hope.
“Hit him, Jenny!” I said. But instead she kicked at my head and shoulders violently, her anger toward me, not Bedloe.
“Shut up, you ill-bred slut,” she said. “I’ll kill you myself!”
Bedloe used his free arm to grab one of Jenny’s legs so that she lost her balance. Her head hit the doorjamb with a sickening thud and she crumpled to the floor.
He pawed at my skirts, pushing them out of the way until his fingers found my bare flesh. I kicked my legs desperately and screamed, trying to extricate myself. I was barely aware of a sudden commotion near the door and for a moment, I thought Jenny had regained consciousness.
A flash of fire and a deafening thunder crack blinded my senses as Bedloe spasmed suddenly above me, then fell forward, limp as a child’s rag doll.
Chapter Forty-Six
The odors of gunpowder and fresh blood filled my nostrils. Bedloe’s full weight slumped on top of me and a warm, wet stickiness dripped onto my face. I turned my head to the side, ready to vomit, but I only coughed up a lump of mucus. From my position on the floor I could not see who had fired the shot and I struggled under my burden, fearing Jenny had somehow acquired a gun and would next shoot me.
“Oh, m’lady!” It was Charlotte’s sweet voice. She rushed to my side and helped lift Bedloe off of me. His body rolled to the floor with a soft thud.
“Are you all right, ma’am?” she asked.
I could only nod. I lay on the floor next to Bedloe, gasping for breath and wiping his blood from my face. After a few moments I grappled to sit up, forcing myself to look at him. Charlotte’s bullet had rendered his face unrecognizable, and blood pooled behind his head in a slowly expanding circle. I turned away and closed my eyes, holding back a sob. When I could finally speak I said, “Where is Sam?”
“He’s at the foot of the stairs, m’lady,” Charlotte said, choking back tears. “He’s still alive, but I tried to rouse him and he wouldn’t move. I fear he’s injured terribly.”
Jenny issued a soft moan and began to stir. Still too stunned to think clearly, I slumped forward. “Oh no,” I said.
Charlotte hurried over to where Jenny lay and hit the side of her head with the pistol handle. Jenny ceased moving.
I allowed myself another few moments to gather my thoughts and then painfully rose to my feet, feeling shaky, bruised, and battered. My clothes were in tatters and my breasts were still exposed. Charlotte handed me my cloak and I covered myself with it.
“What shall we do, ma’am?” Charlotte said.
Even in my dazed condition, the solution seemed clear. Jenny knew all of my secrets, and now, as the only witness to Bedloe’s murder, she posed an even greater threat, both to Charlotte and myself. If we were to continue living, Jenny must die.
I held out my hand to Charlotte. “Give me the gun,” I said. She briefly hesitated then passed it to me. I loaded it as Sam had taught me to and stood over Jenny, pointing it down at her head. My hand shook as I took aim. A vision of Ian writhing on the floor as he took his last breaths flashed before my eyes and I froze. I lowered the gun to my side.
“I can’t do it,” I said.
Charlotte reached for it. “I will.”
I couldn’t let her. It was bad enough she’d killed Bedloe as he attacked me, but another thing entirely to murder a defenseless woman, even if she were potentially dangerous. Charlotte would never forgive herself, as I had never truly forgiven myself for killing Ian. I held the gun tighter, returning my gaze to Jenny. Then I noticed a spot of color on her finger. I fell to my knees and grabbed for her hand, raising it so Charlotte could see it as well. The ring Adam had given me shone in the fire light, the center stone now fixed in its setting.
Jenny’s body remained eerily still as I wrenched it off her finger and slipped it onto my own. I held my hand under her nose. She wasn’t breathing. I lowered my ear to her chest and it didn’t move. Her heart had ceased beating.
“She’s dead,” I said.
* * *
Charlotte and I knelt beside Sam, gently shaking him. He’d fallen down two sets of stairs to the first floor landing. His eyes fluttered open then shut again several times before he came to completely.
“Sam?” I whispered. “It’s Isabel.”
He tried to lift his head but then let it drop again. “Careful,” I told him. “Don’t rush yourself.”
“Just give me a moment.” He raised his hand to his forehead. “Zounds, but my head’s pounding. What happened?”
“You were fighting Bedloe and you fell down the stairs,” I said. His eyes became alarmed as he remembered the scene. “He’s dead now. Charlotte shot him with her pistol.”
Sam looked at her with disbelief. “Did you?”
“Aye,” she said. “I was worried when Lady Wilde left her gun at home so I hired a hackney to follow you. I know I acted above my station but I didn’t know what else to do.”
I touched her lightly on the arm. “Station be damned, Charlotte. Were it not for you, Sam and I would both be dead.”
A torchlight from the stairs below interrupted us. “Who’s up there?” said a gruff voice.
From here, I could not tell if he was a constable or a neighbor, angry about the noise. I raised my hood and wrapped the cloak tight around me, hoping he couldn’t see my blood-splattered face. “Nothing to worry about, sir,” I said. “’E’s just ’ad a bit too much to drink, you see. We’ll ’ave ’im outta the way quick as you please.”
“See that you do or I’ll be calling the constable,” he said. The light wavered and faded as he backed away.
I nudged Sam. “Can you walk upstairs?”
“Yes, I think so.” He sat up slowly and Charlotte and I each took an arm and helped him to his feet. He took a moment to balance himself, then started up the stairs with Charlotte and I behind him, ready to catch him if he should tumble backwards.
We followed him inside and I closed the door tightly. Jenny lay almost at our feet, the look on her face so peaceful she appeared to be sleeping. Bedloe was in front of the fireplace, a crimson carpet covering the floor under his head.
“We could throw them in the river,” Sam said. “We’re close enough to carry them, I think.”
“Are you mad?” I said. “It’s much too far away. We could never get one body there without someone seeing us, let alone two.”
“Why don’t we just leave them here?” Charlotte said. “Lock up and never come back?”
No. Too many people knew this as Mistress Ruby’s place of business, and if the bodies were found here, she would have to disappear forever.
“We’ll dump them in an alley close by and let some unlucky person happen upon them in the morning,” I said. “Are you strong enough to help us, Sam?”
