Page 17

Elizabeth listened to the explanation and relaxed, slightly. She had been unaware of the tension in her shoulders until she felt it leaving. This was a grand lady and the whole exchange could have been much more interrogative.

“Whilst I acknowledge and am grateful for your thanks Lady Maria, it is unnecessary. I only did what anyone would do in a similar situation.”

Rather than get into a low-key debate about the necessity, or otherwise, of the thanks, especially in a public place, Lady Maria suggested a change of venue.

“I do not wish to interrupt your browsing but maybe we can continue this conversation elsewhere. There are several tea shops on Old Bond Street.”

Elizabeth knew that she had no choice in the matter, despite her reluctance. She would just have to return to Hatchard’s after this unforeseen break. She motioned to her maid and told her of the change in plans. Lady Maria noticed a footman drop into place beside the maid as they crossed Piccadilly. When they entered the tea shop she again noticed that Elizabeth pressed a coin into the maid’s hand allowing them to partake in a beverage as well. Once their order had been taken the conversation resumed.

“Will you tell me the tale from last July please?”

Elizabeth recognised that her earlier concern about an interrogation was looming ever larger. With an internal sigh she marshalled her thoughts about that July day.

Elizabeth had been quietly walking along Piccadilly. Her uncle’s carriage had stopped to let her alight at Piccadilly Circus and was waiting further along the road at Green Park. The street was busy and this way she could browse without the carriage getting snarled up in all the traffic. Claire was beside her while Robert was, as usual, their discreet shadow, a few paces behind them. The warmth relaxed Elizabeth and she knew her uncle had been right to chivvy her out of the house.

“Come on Lizzie, you need a break. Even the children say you have been working crazy hours. Please do not make me force you.”

Elizabeth had huffed but she knew her uncle was right. Ever since the death of General Moore and the defeat at A Coruna she had been scavenging for information about Galicia. Late the previous week she had found out that the Spanish had successfully forced the French out of the Kingdom. She and her uncle had spent hours talking about the possibilities if Galicia was under Spanish control. Since then the discussions had intensified resulting from that action. But as Uncle Gardiner had said, there had been precious few free hours in the last three months.

“As always, you are right uncle. What would I do?”

Edward Gardiner smiled and quietly chuckled.

“Really Lizzie? You need me to tell you what to do? It is a beautiful summer’s day, but at the same time there is quite a breeze. That should keep the smell down. Why do you not head up into the more fashionable parts of the city? You could stop at Hatchards and see what catches your eye amongst the new books, and you promised my sister that you would search for her favourite preserve at Fortnum and Mason.”

So Elizabeth had a plan and had set off to enjoy the day. Thus her current leisurely stroll west along Piccadilly towards the two shops. It was early summer and although members of the Ton were starting to head to their country estates to escape the heat, and smell, of the capital, the street was still busy.

“You do not spend much time here Miss Elizabeth, other than when your sisters are visiting.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips at her maid’s question. She was not sure that Claire was a maid anymore, she was more of a companion.

“Part of the reason is in your very statement Claire. I would be on my own. I admit that I enjoy the two weeks each quarter when Mary or Jane spend time with me. If only to remind me that I am a lady.”

She gave a mirthless chuckle.

“I will spend an hour or two strolling along Paternoster Row when I get the chance. It is more, I am not sure how to describe it, maybe the right word is real.”

“Real?”

“Everyone who shops there is more interested in the books than being seen by others. Look ahead of us, across the road there, everyone is looking to see and be seen rather than going about their business. In fact, that is their business. A large part of society appears to be all about showing off to the rest of society.”

She shrugged.

“It all seems rather pointless.”

Claire wondered at Elizabeth’s jaundiced opinion. Such cynicism at just 18 years of age seemed sad. Yet at the same time she could not counter the arguments. Both their thoughts were abruptly wrenched back to the present as, without warning, there were several sudden shouts and a scream. They both turned in time to see an extremely tall piece of timber fall from a building just behind them. It was on the south side of the street, they were walking on the north side, and so they saw the last half of the descent. The timber was one of the key support beams from a building that was starting to be demolished.

For a moment Elizabeth was frozen, terrified at what she saw. She was having a flashback to something that was not a memory, just her own imagination. As she saw the huge piece of timber fall with an inexorable inevitably, all she could imagine was the death of her aunt, crushed in the same capricious manner. It was only for a second or two, just the length of time it took for the timber to crash onto the street. Miraculously, the beam had not crushed any people. Sadly two horses were not so lucky, one was still but the other was screeching in pain. This frozen montage lasted for another moment and then chaos erupted all around them.

Only later back at Gracechurch Street were they able to get even an approximate understanding of what followed. It took their uncle more than an hour of questioning all three of them to paint a complete picture, as each person’s perspective was subtly different.

The immediate danger was not anything else to do with the building but rather the horses and carriages on Piccadilly. The echo of the huge crash, the resultant cloud of dust and manure, the human screams, the shouts of ‘fire’ and the ghastly squeals of the dying horse, there were just way too many attacks on the nerves of even the best trained horses. Claire and Robert pulled Elizabeth into the doorway of a building as coachmen desperately tried to control their charges. Later they could not agree how many coaches rushed past but there were several. In among all this confusion Elizabeth saw a terrifying sight. It was as if they were restaging the accident that claimed the life of her aunt. A small girl had become separated from the adults responsible for her safety. Elizabeth heard the creaking of the wagon, saw the ropes start to part. With no regard for her own safety Elizabeth rushed over and pulled the child away. She was back in the doorway with the child almost before either Claire or Robert had time to react.

“Miss Elizabeth, are you okay?”

“I am fine.”

“You could have been crushed.”