Another queue of accused prisoners were brought clanking into the dock, and Trick’s group began moving out. She watched in a haze of pain as he drew a red-tipped finger across the crumpled paper in his other hand.
“He’s writing something,” she whispered in horror to Ford. “He’s trying to write something.In blood.”
His hand with the paper shaking, he reached it toward her as he was dragged by. She pressed against the rail, straining to get closer, their fingers almost touching. She moaned when he was jerked back, the look in his eyes anguished but unreadable.
Seconds later, he was tugged from the chamber and out of sight.
“He’s ill,” she sobbed, tears running freely down her face to mix with the miserable cold rain. “He was trying to tell me something, wasn’t he?”
“He was too weak.” Ford wiped her cheeks. “There’s nothing you can do about it now.”
“He tried to give me a message inblood.” Her eyes burned and her heart was cracking. The man had only preyed on Puritans—the real criminals in her eyes—and for the good of orphan children. No matter that he was a liar and an adulterer, he didn’t deserve to die.
She leaned far over the rail and shouted to the guard who was closing the gate. “Where are they being taken?”
“Newgate,” the man said as the iron bars banged shut.
Seventy-Eight
“KENDRA, YOUcannot go to Newgate.” At the Chase town house in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, Jason pushed her onto the drawing room’s burgundy brocade couch and handed her a large goblet of Rhenish wine. “It’s a hellhouse. And there’s nothing you can do for him anyway.”
“I must see him.” Maybe she could sneak him out. At least she could say good-bye. “I’m going.” She set down the wine and rose.
He took her by the shoulders, his bright green gaze determined. “You cannot go.”
Equally determined, she wrenched from his grasp. “You cannot stop me.”
“We’ll go to King Charles,” Ford said.
She whirled to him. “What?”
“We’ll go to Charles and ask for a pardon.”
Hope fluttered in her chest. “Could…could that work?”
He shrugged. “It’s certainly within his power. I saw him pardon Swift Nicks.”
“Who?” Her legs feeling weak, she dropped back onto the couch.
“The infamous highwayman, Jack Nevison.” Ford began pacing. “Early one morn he robbed a fellow in Kent who recognized him and threatened to turn him in. To give himself an alibi, he rode for York, arriving the same evening—”
“Impossible,” she burst out, never mind that she didn’t care to hear this since it had nothing to do with Trick. The ride to York took at least four days, more likely a week.
“Apparently not impossible when his life was at risk. He had friends at the taverns all along the Great North Road who supplied him with a fresh horse every hour. When he arrived in the town that evening, he hurried to the bowling green, in time to play a game of bowls with the mayor and other city functionaries. When he was brought to trial later, no less than six dignitaries could honestly swear he’d been in York that day, not Kent.”
“Then Charles had no need to pardon him.”
“But he had past crimes. The tale made the London rounds, and when Charles heard it, he commanded Nevison to court to tell the story himself. The king laughed until tears came to his eyes and then dismissed him with a signed and sealed pardon for all his prior misdeeds. I’ll never forget it. So you can see that Charles can be prevailed upon under the right circumstances.”
“Regardless of whether our merry monarch might be swayed by a bit of humor,” Kendra said, “you have no knee-slapping story to tell him. There’s nothing funny about Trick’s situation.”
“True,” Jason admitted. “But perhaps when he hears only Puritans were robbed, it will soften his heart.”
“Possible,” Ford said. “And let’s not forget that he knows and likes Trick as the Duke of Amberley.”
“And Trick just brought him all that treasure.” Kendra grasped at a wisp of hope. “But are you really willing to bring all of this up? Admit that my husband and the Black Highwayman are one and the same?”
“We’ll do whatever it takes,” Jason said. “Considering the alternative, I hardly think Trick will care that the Caldwell name is tarnished.”
