Antonia Hodgson - The Devil in the Marshalsea

‘I won this for you,’ Kitty said, holding out the banyan.

I folded it carefully and placed it at the end of my bed. ‘Did you keep nothing for yourself, Kitty?’

She reached into her apron and pulled out the gold ring Fleet used to wear. ‘It’s a poesy ring. It belonged to my father.’

I held it up to the window light and read the inscription hidden on the inside of the band.

I Cannot Show the Love I Owe.

‘It won’t fit,’ she said. ‘It slides off my finger.’

‘Here.’ I unhooked the clasp of my mother’s chain and tucked the cross into my waistcoat pocket. I slipped the ring on to the chain and fastened it about her neck, fingers brushing against her cool, freckled skin. So smooth; the finest silk. After all that had happened, this… this was what I needed. I couldn’t help myself. My fingers whispered slowly down the nape of her neck. She shivered and turned to face me, eyes wide and serious. And then she rose on tiptoe and touched her lips to mine, gently at first and then deeper, wrapping her arms about my neck. I lost myself in that kiss, so sudden and unexpected. No one had ever kissed me like that, not in all my life. The room melted away, all my debts, all the horror, the whole prison was gone in a heartbeat. I was set free. I slid my arms around her waist and drew her close, as close as I could, pressing my hips against hers. I could feel the pulse of her heart thrumming against my chest.

‘Let her go!’ Catherine Roberts stood in the doorway, gaping at us in fury.

We jumped and stepped back, the moment broken like fine china on the floor.

Mrs Roberts’ gloved hands balled into fists. ‘You scoundrel !’ Her voice echoed about the empty room.

I saw the kiss from her eyes now, how it must seem. Taking advantage of a grieving girl. And after I’d promised – vowed I wouldn’t touch her. I wanted to explain but there weren’t words – and she would never have understood.

I took another small step away from Kitty. Felt the gap between us again. ‘What is it you want of me, Mrs Roberts?’

‘You betrayed my secret. I’ve been ordered to leave the prison at once.’

I closed my eyes for a moment. My heart was still beating hard and it took me a moment to understand or even care what she was saying. ‘Yes. Forgive me. I told Acton about the ghost. I’m afraid I had no choice. I was trying to discover your husband’s killer, madam.’

‘What’s this about the ghost?’ Kitty asked.

‘Mrs Roberts hired an actor to sneak into the prison.’

‘You promised not to tell!’ she said, glowering. ‘How am I to discover John’s killer now I’m banished from the gaol? I have lost my son because of you! I will never see him again!’ She broke off, sobbing into her hand, shoulders shaking.

Kitty glared at her. ‘It was all a trick? You sent an actor to frighten Ben Carter – when his brother lay dying?’

Mrs Roberts dropped her hand, rubbing the tears from her cheeks as she composed herself. She gave Kitty a cold, regal glare. ‘How dare you speak to me in such a pert fashion! Do you think one kiss from a gentleman makes you a lady?’

‘I think you should leave, madam,’ I said quietly. A day or two ago I might have called her Catherine – but not now.

She rounded on me. ‘Mr Acton told me of the vile accusations you made about my husband and Mr Gilbourne.’ She put a hand to her throat. ‘John would never, never agree to such a foul thing. He was a true gentleman.’

I sighed but said nothing. She would never accept the sordid truth: that she had given up her family, her reputation and her heart to a man who would have sold her body and soul for ten guineas. Who could blame her for denying it?

‘Kitty.’ She held out her hand. ‘Come here, child.’

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Kitty declared, tossing her head.

‘You poor girl.’ Mrs Roberts laughed. ‘Do you think he will care tuppence for you, once he has taken what he wants? Come. If I’m to leave this place I might as well take you with me. A lady’s maid is a good position, Kitty – don’t ruin yourself for something so worthless. I’ll pay you a fair wage.’

‘I’m obliged to you for your kind offer, Mrs Roberts. Kitty replied slowly and with great deliberation, ‘But I’d rather suck Mr Woodburn’s cock.’

Mrs Roberts flinched. And then she drew herself up, winter-grey eyes cold with disapproval. ‘You will end up like your mother, child. A common whore, selling herself in a stinking alley for a glass of cheap gin.’ She pulled her hood over her face and glided away from us down the stairs.

Kitty set her jaw, defiant as always. But I was close enough to see the shimmer of tears in her eyes. I wished that I could take us back to those few precious moments, before Mrs Roberts had torn us apart. I thought about taking her in my arms again. But the walls were back in place and we could both feel it.

‘So,’ I said carefully. ‘What now, Kitty?’ Tell me to kiss you again and I’ll do it.

She glanced at the dark stain by Fleet’s bed and shuddered. ‘I shan’t stay here. I’ll cut my hair and join the army.’

‘You’ll do no such thing,’ Jakes growled from the doorway. He stared about him, taking in the plundered kingdom of Belle Isle. ‘Is there nothing left? Bloody locusts.’

Kitty picked up her broom, propped against the wall. ‘At least I can sweep the floor properly,’ she sighed. She dragged the broom across the floor, sending up a cloud of dust. ‘I haven’t seen it in months. Not since the captain died, now I think of it.’

‘What do you mean?’ I asked, coughing as the dirt caught in my throat.

She paused, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. ‘The room was swept clean, just here.’ She gestured at the area that ran from my bed to the door. ‘I tried to tell Samuel but he was in one of his dark moods. He wasn’t always the way you saw him.’ She slid the broom beneath my bed, sweeping out thick grey clumps of dust.

I frowned at the empty boards. ‘Why would they sweep the floor?’

‘To clear a path through all the junk?’ Jakes suggested. ‘A man could trip and break his neck on it in the dark.’

Something caught my eye: a glint of silver in the dust. I stayed Kitty’s arm. ‘Perhaps they dropped something.’ I stooped down and plucked a coin from the dirt. A silver crown. I blew away the dust and held it out in my palm for them to see. A rust-brown mark covered the old king’s face. I scraped at it with my thumbnail. Blood. ‘They killed him, then swept up all the money.’ I turned the coin over in my palm, thinking hard. ‘Gilbourne paid Roberts five guineas – that’s a fair sum in here.’

‘It will be long spent by now,’ Jakes said with a frown, rubbing the scar that cut through his brow.

A loud creak from the floorboards above broke the silence. I peered up at the ceiling. Trim was still in his room. I glanced at Jakes, then lowered my voice. ‘Ask about – in the gaol and in the Borough. Who was flush, after Roberts’ death? Who paid off an old debt, or stood a round in the Tap Room? There’s a chance someone will remember.’ I touched his shoulder as he passed, brought my lips to his ear. ‘Ask about Trim. And Cross.’

Jakes blinked in surprise, then shrugged, as if to say, I would believe anything, of anyone, in here . ‘Will you be safe, on your own? I promised Mr Buckley I’d look after you, sir.’

I touched the hilt of my blade. ‘I’m not the man I was four days ago.’

‘Aye.’ He nodded slowly. ‘It changes people, this place. Or perhaps it strips them back to what they really are. Never quite worked that one out.’ He gave a short bow. ‘I’ll be back by candlelight.’