A Place Called Freedom (1995)

The boy scrambled off Lizzie and tried to run away but she grabbed his ankle and tripped him. He measured his length on the ground. Mack picked him up and threw him against the house wall, then hit him on the chin with a punch that came up from below with all his weight behind it, and the boy fell unconscious on top of his partner-in-crime.

Lizzie got to her feet. “Thank God you were here!” she said fervently. Tears of relief filled her eyes. She threw her arms around him and said: “You saved me—thank you, thank you!”

He hugged her closely. “You saved me, once—when you pulled me out of the river.”

She held him tight and tried to stop shaking. She felt his hand behind her head, stroking her hair. In her breeches and shirt, with no petticoats to get in the way, she could feel the entire length of his body pressed against hers. He felt completely different from her husband. Jay was tall and supple, Mack short and massive and hard.

He shifted and looked at her. His green eyes were mesmerizing. The rest of his face seemed to blur. “You saved me, and I saved you,” he said with a wry smile. “I’m your guardian angel, and you’re mine.”

She began to calm down. She remembered that her shirt was torn and her breasts were bare. “If I were an angel, I wouldn’t be in your arms,” she said, and she made to detach herself from his embrace.

He looked into her eyes for a moment, then gave that wry smile again and nodded, as if agreeing with her. He turned away.

He bent and took the sack from the older thief’s limp hand. He took out her waistcoat and she put it on, buttoning it hastily to cover her nakedness. As soon as she felt safe again she began to worry about Jay. “I have to look for my husband,” she said as Mack helped her put her coat on. “Will you help me?”

“Of course.” He handed her the wig and hat, purse and watch and handkerchief.

“What about your red-haired friend?” she asked.

“Cora. I made sure she was safe before I came after you.”

“Did you?” Lizzie felt unreasonably irritated. “Are you and Cora lovers?” she said rudely.

Mack smiled. “Yes,” he said. “Since the day before yesterday.”

“My wedding day.”

“I’m having a wonderful time. Are you?”

A sharp retort came to her lips then, despite herself, she laughed. “Thank you for rescuing me,” she said, and she leaned forward and kissed him briefly on the lips.

“I’d do it all over again for a kiss like that.”

She grinned at him then turned toward the street.

Jay stood there watching.

She felt terribly guilty. Had he seen her kiss McAsh? She guessed he had, by the thunderous look on his face. “Oh, Jay!” she said. “Thank heaven you’re all right!”

“What happened here?” he said.

“Those two men robbed me.”

“I knew we shouldn’t have come.” He took her by the arm to lead her out of the alley.

“McAsh knocked them down and rescued me,” she said.

“That’s no reason to kiss him,” said her husband.

19

JAY’S REGIMENT WAS ON DUTY IN PALACE YARD ON the day of John Wilkes’s trial.

The liberal hero had been convicted of criminal libel years ago and had fled to Paris. On his return, earlier that year, he was accused of being an outlaw. But while the legal action against him dragged on he won the Middlesex by-election handsomely. However, he had not yet taken his seat in Parliament, and the government hoped to prevent him doing so by having him convicted in court.

Jay steadied his horse and looked nervously over the crowd of several hundred Wilkes supporters milling around outside Westminster Hall, where the trial was taking place. Many of them wore pinned to their hats the blue cockade that identified them as Wilkesites. Tories such as Jay’s father wanted Mikes silenced, but everyone was worried about what his supporters would do.

If violence broke out, Jay’s regiment was supposed to keep order. There was a small detachment of guards—too damn small, in Jay’s opinion: just forty men and a few officers under Colonel Cranbrough, Jay’s commanding officer. They formed a thin red-and-white line between the court building and the mob.

Cranbrough took orders from the Westminster magistrates, represented by Sir John Fielding. Fielding was blind, but that did not seem to hinder him in his work. He was a famous reforming justice, although Jay thought him too soft. He had been known to say that crime was caused by poverty. That was like saying adultery was caused by marriage.

The young officers were always hoping to see action, and Jay said he felt the same, but he was also scared. He had never actually used his sword or gun in a real fight.

It was a long day, and the captains took turns to break off from patrolling and drink a glass of wine. Toward the end of the afternoon, while Jay was giving his horse an apple, he was approached by Sidney Lennox.

His heart sank. Lennox wanted his money. No doubt he had intended to ask for it when he called at Grosvenor Square but had postponed the request because of the wedding.

Jay did not have the money. But he was terrified that Lennox would go to his father.