The Girl in the Mask

by Marie-Louise Jensen

  ‘I’m so sorry. I’ve been locked in. I was recognized, you know, that night. I’ve run away now and I won’t go back. Not ever.’

  ‘You’re goin’ to run away?’ asked Jenny doubtfully. ‘In that get-up?’ She looked at my brocade gown with its tight bodice over quantities of lace petticoats. I looked down at it too, and had to laugh.

  ‘I’ve got breeches hidden in the yard. I’ll sell this.’

  ‘Where will you go?’

  ‘To Windsor to look for my cousin,’ I said. Jack was the best friend I had in the world, and I was sure he would help me if only I could get to him.

  ‘Windsor’s a long way,’ began Jenny, and then she gasped and pulled me into a doorway, using me to shield herself from sight. Voices were approaching behind us.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ I asked. ‘Who’s looking for you?’

  The men passed and Jenny grabbed my hand, led me along Trim Street away from the city out into the open fields beyond. I lifted my petticoats out of the mud and took care how I placed my feet. Jenny stopped behind a clump of trees and turned to face me.

  ‘I’ve been hiding,’ she said. ‘All the time you’ve been away. I can’t risk being seen, I can’t go home and I’ve spent me last farthing. I’m so hungry!’

  ‘What happened?’ I asked horrified.

  ‘They cheated me, didn’t they? Took the papers off me and didn’t give me a penny. Jest this … ’

  She turned her left cheek towards me and I saw it was discoloured with a fading bruise and a nasty cut. I caught my breath. ‘So we did all that for nothing?’ I asked despairingly. ‘We robbed Mr Charleton, those papers have fallen into the wrong hands, and you haven’t even been paid … This is dreadful. They … they were important papers, apparently, Jenny. I think we did a very wrong thing in taking them.’ I rubbed my hand over my face and groaned.

  ‘What are they about?’ asked Jenny.

  ‘I don’t know. But they’re something to do with preventing those riots.’

  ‘So the gentleman we took ’em off might pay to get ’em back?’ asked Jenny hopefully.

  ‘He would if we had them,’ I replied. ‘A minor point, but an important one.’ I sank down on the grassy bank, heedless of my clothes, my petticoats billowing about me. Jenny knelt beside me.

  ‘I’ve got them, but I didn’t know what to do with them,’ replied Jenny. ‘They’re hidden up in the stable yard.’

  I stared at her blankly. ‘But you said … ’

  ‘I know what I said. Only I nicked ’em back, didn’t I? I wasn’t being cheated like that. So I followed ’em and picked their pockets. They ain’t even been opened. Thing was though, I didn’t know what to do next. I couldn’t even get to the fence to flog the jewellery; nearly got caught goin’ there. I bin hidin’ on the rooftops ever since, terrified they’d find me.’

  I caught her hands delightedly. ‘Jenny, you’re a wonder!’ I cried. ‘Maybe it won’t be too late to return them. Only … Mr Charleton isn’t at home, and I don’t know where to find him.’

  I sat quite still, wondering what to do. ‘Perhaps I should return to Harrison’s after all,’ I said reluctantly. ‘It’s my best chance of finding him. It’s the masquerade in a few days and he said he’d see me there.’

  ‘A few days … !’ groaned Jenny. I looked at her. Her face looked pinched and pale with want. She couldn’t sleep out on the rooftops indefinitely. I had no money to give her, not so much as a penny. An idea struck me.

  ‘Mr Allen,’ I said, jumping to my feet. ‘He’ll help us, I know he will.’

  ‘Who?’ asked Jenny.

  ‘He’s the postmaster and a friend of Mr Charleton’s. I’m quite certain he can be trusted. He’s kept letters for me before; from your brother. Can you get the papers and meet me on the far side of Trim Bridge?’

  We made our way swiftly along Trim Street, parted there, and I walked back into the city. I kept my eyes open for my family, hoping they wouldn’t yet be looking for me. Jenny, when she rejoined me with her jacket bulging, was as jumpy as I was, looking about us as we walked.

  I was deeply thankful to find Mr Allen behind the post office counter. ‘Mr Allen,’ I said keeping my voice low, though there were no customers but us. ‘We have important papers for Mr Charleton. Can we trust you to get them to him safely? As soon as possible?’

  With a surprised glance at me and a curious one at Jenny, Mr Allen swiftly called for his assistant to take over the counter and led us both behind it and into a small back parlour. A low table was laid with an untouched jug of ale and a plate of bread and butter.

  ‘Sit down, both of you, please,’ he said courteously. ‘You can trust me completely. I’m in close communication with Charleton on a number of matters, and in his complete confidence. What is this about?’

  By way of reply, I handed him the sheaf of papers Jenny had retrieved along with the ring and tie pin I’d stolen. Mr Allen looked questioningly at me. ‘We need you to get these back to Mr Charleton,’ I begged. ‘They haven’t been opened.’

  Mr Allen caught his breath and looked searchingly at me. I blushed, ashamed of the part I’d played. ‘There’s more,’ I told him. ‘I took this from Captain Mould today. I have no idea what it says, or if it’s important.’

  Mr Allen took the crumpled note, smoothed it out and frowned over it. ‘A code, but not one I’ve seen before,’ he admitted. ‘Who gave him this?’

  My eyes dropped. ‘My aunt,’ I confessed. ‘I didn’t see who she got it from.’

  ‘Your aunt? Yes, we’ve had our eye on her since you arrived,’ he said, surprising me. A dozen questions ran through my head. Who was we and why were they watching my aunt? But I didn’t get a chance to ask. Mr Allen was already speaking again: ‘I need to get this to Charleton now,’ he said. He grabbed his coat from a hook, and on his way back across the room, he took my hand and shook it, and then shook Jenny’s grubby hand with equal respect. ‘Before I go, are you in any danger for taking these?’ he asked us both.

  I shook my head. ‘Not me. I may be in trouble for escaping from Harrison’s, but that’s all. In any case, I don’t intend to go back. I’m going to run away. But Jenny is in some fear of reprisals.’

  ‘In that case, Jenny, please stay here until I get back,’ said Allen. ‘I promise you’ll be quite safe here. Please help yourself to this food and ale; you look as though you need it. Miss Williams, I’d like you to rethink your plan of running away.’

  ‘I can’t go back,’ I said instantly. ‘My father, he plans to … no, I can’t.’

  Mr Allen took both my hands in his. ‘Please. If you would be willing to be eyes and ears for us within your family … I know it’s a great deal to ask, but it could save lives. I’ve suspected all along Charleton was mistaken to believe you were part of the conspiracy. I can’t say any more right now, it wouldn’t be safe. But we need your help. You’ve done well today. Will you try and do more?’

  I hesitated, unsure what I was agreeing to or why. I dreaded the thought of returning to the imprisonment of my father’s house. ‘Just for a few days,’ added Mr Allen persuasively.

  ‘Very well,’ I agreed reluctantly. ‘What am I looking for?’

  ‘Any communication between your aunt, Captain Mould, and others. Do not take risks; they are dangerous people. But watch them. Either Charleton or I will be in touch to hear what, if anything, you’ve discovered. Do you understand?’

  I nodded dumbly. Mr Allen released me, and almost ran from the room. I turned to Jenny. ‘I don’t know what any of this is about, but if I’m going back, it had better be right away,’ I said. Jenny looked at me, her eyes large in her pale face. ‘Eat something!’ I recommended, indicating the bread on the table. She nodded, looking forlorn. ‘He’s a kind man,’ I told her. Feeling bad about leaving her, I gave her a hug. She clung to me, her thin frame feeling as light as a bird’s. Then I hurried back through the city, knowing it was too much to hope that my absence would have gone unnoticed.

&nbs
p; CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  I was kept locked in the house for three days after my escape from the Assembly Rooms. My copy of Pope’s poem was found and confiscated and I had nothing to do but sew and read sermons. I grew so bored that even those occupations were eventually better than nothing. I neither heard nor saw anything that I could relate to Mr Charleton, and bitterly regretted ever having been foolish enough to return home. When I thought that I could be halfway to Windsor now, I wanted to scream in frustration. My only consolation was that nothing at all was said of Captain Mould and his proposing for me.

  My aunt, forced by my father to keep me company, was moody and silent. My father returned home late at night, drunken and ill-tempered. He shouted at us both and then shut himself in his study. At the breakfast table, he was surly, his face etched with deep shadows.

  The night of the masquerade arrived. At first I assumed I wouldn’t be permitted to go to any, just as I’d been forbidden to attend any of the other events during the past days. But to my surprise, after we’d dined at four o’clock, I was sent to get changed. Dawes helped me bathe and wash my hair. When I got out of the bath, my costume was laid out on my bed.

  My gown was purest, virginal white. Once I was dressed in the crisp petticoats and gown, I looked like a frost maiden. A profusion of lace was pinned around my neck and at my wrists, as though a waterfall had frozen in the act of tumbling over a precipice. I stared in the mirror, stunned by the vision the dressmaker had created for me. I was Persephone; unwilling child-bride, trapped by Hades in the underworld whilst winter reigned on Earth.

  Dawes powdered my hair and my face, whitening my complexion to match my gown. Only my blue eyes and red lips had colour now. Then she tied a golden sash around my waist and a golden mask over my face. I surveyed myself once more.

  ‘It’s almost a pity to wear the gold,’ I mused, surprised at my own degree of interest in my costume. ‘It spoils the effect.’

  ‘Well, you won’t be wearing the sash in the morning, Miss, just the gown,’ said Dawes briskly.

  ‘In the morning?’ I asked, looking sharply at her. ‘Why should I wear such a fine gown in the morning?’

  ‘Oh, no, Miss, my mistake,’ said Dawes hurriedly. Her hands shook under my gaze and the powder pot she was holding slipped out of her hand, spilling powder onto the carpet. ‘Oh, dear me, how clumsy I am!’ she cried.

  ‘Dawes,’ I said sternly as she scrabbled to clear up the mess, ‘why will I need this gown in the morning?’

  She shook her head at me, and flushed deeper red. ‘Tell me now,’ I said, ‘or I shall tell my father you’ve been helping me escape from the house at night.’

  ‘Oh, no, Miss, I never did … you wouldn’t!’ she gasped. ‘I’d lose my place!’

  Tears started to her eyes, but I told myself she was keeping things secret from me and hardened my heart. ‘Your wed-wedding, Miss,’ stuttered Dawes. ‘It’s your wedding in the morning, b-but your father made me swear not to tell you. You’re to wear this as your bride gown!’ She pulled a pocket handkerchief out and dabbed at her eyes. I turned from her. I felt nothing. I was numb. When she handed me the last part of my costume, I stared dully at it.

  ‘A pomegranate,’ I said flatly, weighing the fruit in my hand. ‘The very fruit Hades used to trap Persephone in the underworld.’ I descended the stairs, allowed the footman to wrap my white cloak around my shoulders and left the house as though in a dream. Or perhaps a nightmare would be more appropriate. I was halfway to the Guildhall before I came to my senses. I needed to get away tonight, before it was too late. It was my last chance. I imagined riding away from the Bath, free at last, and my heart leapt. I would find an opportunity, I was certain of it.

  It wasn’t until we climbed out of the sedan chairs into the crush of arrivals at the masquerade that I saw my father’s costume. He was clad entirely in green, the stiffly whale-boned skirts of his new brocade coat standing out fashionably from his body. His waistcoat was embroidered with greens and blues to portray seaweed, and his mask had been fashioned to match. Only the lace at his throat and wrists was foaming white like the crests of waves. In his hand he carried the three-pronged fork of Poseidon. It was a fitting costume: the dark and brooding brother of Zeus, banished to rule the murky depths of the ocean.

  My aunt was attired in cream and gold, as Demeter, a sheaf of wheat carried in her arms. It was a beautiful gown, though a deal fewer buttered rolls during our stay at the Bath would have allowed it to fall on slenderer lines.

  Hades, wreathed in black with a mask to match, approached us as soon as we entered the ballroom. I didn’t need to hear his voice to know it was Captain Mould. He was my doom. But for me, unlike the real Persephone, there would be no six-month reprieve each year to enjoy the summer. I would be condemned to spend my whole life in the underworld.

  The ballroom of the Guildhall was a sea of costumes; the identity of people known to me all summer by sight at least, hidden by hundreds of masks. If my mood had been different, I should have thought it exciting. As it was, I found it strangely intimidating.

  I had no choice but to accept Hades as my partner for the first dance. I went through the steps in silence, keeping as much distance from him as possible. He didn’t observe a like silence, however. ‘What a very elegant gown, Miss Williams,’ he said with meaning. ‘I look forward to seeing it again soon.’

  My stomach lurched as he spoke, remembering what Dawes had told me. It was true then. When had my father planned to let me know? When I woke up tomorrow perhaps?

  ‘Ah yes, tomorrow will be a great day, Miss Williams,’ continued the captain. His eyes glittered eerily behind his mask, making him appear more sinister than ever. ‘A new beginning in more ways than one. You will awake to a new world; a cleansed world. It will be a new start.’

  I stared, wondering what he meant. His words seemed to imply more than just our marriage. What did he mean by cleansing? I frowned, trying to read his expression, but it was hidden behind his mask.

  At the end of the dance, Captain Mould kissed my hand and requested another. But before I could either accept or refuse, another masked man approached, dressed all in black and gold.

  ‘Ah no, Hades, you shall not have the beautiful Persephone all to yourself!’ he said, his voice mocking. ‘That is not how it works. You have her only for a season and then must let her go.’ He bowed to me and offered his arm. ‘Will the daughter of Demeter dance with the winged messenger?’

  He indicated his shoes: they bore the gold wings of the messenger of the gods. I curtsied, smiling. ‘Persephone would be honoured, Hermes,’ I replied.

  Captain Mould gripped my elbow, and spoke low to Hermes. ‘Just remember, my friend: you may borrow her, but she is bound for all eternity to return to me.’

  Neither of us said anything to this. Hermes merely bowed slightly before leading me away. I felt sick. ‘Are you engaged to be married?’ asked Hermes as soon as we were out of earshot.

  I bit my lip. ‘I’ve not been informed of it, Mr Charleton,’ I replied, for I’d known his voice at once. ‘But my maid let something slip earlier. I believe I’m to be married in the morning.’

  ‘It’s outrageous!’ he said quietly, his voice full of anger. ‘Damn, you’re just a child, and he’s an old stick. A retired captain. Those costumes are some kind of a sick joke; Hades capturing Persephone! What is your father thinking of?’

  ‘Simply of getting me off his hands,’ I replied. ‘By any means possible.’

  Mr Charleton pressed my hand comfortingly as he led me into the dance. ‘The rumour is your father’s been playing deep and is in debt to our friend Hades. Is that correct?’

  ‘I believe so,’ I told him honestly. ‘But I know very little. I’ve been locked in the house for days.’

  He nodded. ‘I know.’

  We couldn’t speak again for several moments. When we turned at the bottom of the room, he took my hand and whisked me away from the other dancing couples to where the tables
were laid out behind screens for supper later. I followed him behind the end screen where he took both my hands in his and leaned close.

  ‘Thank you, Sophia,’ he said. ‘For the papers. You did the right thing.’

  ‘I hope so,’ I told him. His face looked strange, half-concealed behind the dark mask. ‘It was my friend Jenny who retrieved them.’

  ‘I know. I’ve been able to thank her in person.’

  ‘Is she safe?’ I asked eagerly.

  He nodded. ‘She’s with Allen. His housekeeper’s taking good care of her. Now, have you heard anything new, managed to intercept any notes since then?’

  I shook my head sadly. ‘I’ve been locked in, watched, and my aunt has been my chaperone,’ I told him. ‘Whatever is going on, she’s not had a chance to do anything in the last days. Sir, what is going on?’

  Mr Charleton leaned forward and whispered in my ear: ‘A rebellion is being planned, Sophia. You could even call it a revolution. Beginning right here in the west; in the Bath. Something major, for we have intercepted letters about movement of arms and soldiers from France. The city is as full as it can hold of rebels, horses and weapons, and all the leaders are assembled here. The aim is to overthrow the government, depose the king and crown the Pretender in his place. But that can’t be achieved by peaceful means.’

  I could feel my heart beating fast with excitement at this news. So much at stake, and I’d had a hand in it, however clumsy and mistaken. ‘How do you know all this?’ I asked breathlessly, aware we might be interrupted at any moment, and I would lose my chance to hear more. ‘What part do you play?’

  Mr Charleton moved back from me, covertly watching the ballroom from the edge of the screen. ‘I work secretly for the king and government,’ he said softly.