wondered the magnitude
of her injuries, but I didn’t want to wake her up in the car. Later, at the inn,
I saw the extent of her wounds. She had bruises and scratches on her arms and
legs. She had lost so much weight that her shoulder blades protruded alarmingly
and her hipbones were almost bare of flesh. They had cut her beautiful hair
unevenly and almost as short as a boy’s. I cried bitterly, swearing revenge on
all of them as I washed her and covered her with a nightdress. I was as gentle
as I could be, but she whimpered every time I touched her. I finally convinced her
to drink some beef tea laced with rum to help her sleep. I held her in my arms
all night, while she shook and spoke incoherently through various nightmares.
The following morning we continued our
journey. I had bought a simple day dress, which was so big it almost hung off
her shoulders, but it would have to do. The long cape and bonnet would cover
her well enough. I had also bought lace-up boots like the ones she liked to
wear. The carriage bordered the marsh and crossed the moor along a muddy track.
We passed a knoll and a clump of trees, reached a scattering of small cottages
with low roofs, and latticed casements. I told the driver to follow the road
until we reached the larger house in a hollow vale, bordering the heath.
The carriage stopped outside the high
stone wall, and I carried Jane up the path leading to the front door of Thorpe
House, the home of Jane’s cousin Diana and her husband, Admiral Fitzjames.
***
Chapter VII – Nothing Before Us
Peggy must have heard the carriage stop
and opened the door. She screamed as she watched me kick open the gate and carry
Jane along the path.
“Call Mrs. Fitzjames!” I shouted. She
closed the door and rushed into the house.
I recognised Diana’s voice behind the
door asking Peggy what had happened.
“Mrs. Fitzjames, please open the door,
Jane needs your help.”
Diana opened the door and gasped. “What’s
happened to Jane? She looks wasted to a shadow.”
“The archbishop had her committed to
Grimsby Retreat.”
“How appalling!” She waved her hand
towards the hall. “Come inside.”
She pushed the drawing room door open,
told Peggy to bring tea and sandwiches, and asked us to sit by the fireplace.
“Jane, my dear, you look terrible. How
long has she been in that dreadful place?”
“Fifteen days,” I replied. “She’s hardly
slept and she hasn’t eaten. We need your help, Mrs. Fitzjames.”
“Of course, I’ll help you. We had no
idea. When was she discharged? Why didn’t you take her to Eyre Hall?”
“She wasn’t discharged. She escaped with
my help.”
“You took her out of the asylum without
permission? Oh dear, but how did she get in there in the first place? Are you
in trouble?”
“I’m afraid we are. Nobody must know
we’re here. We are fugitives.”
She covered her mouth with both hands
and gasped.
“Where is the admiral?” I asked.
“Of course, let me call Charles. He’ll
know what to do.” Peggy brought the tea and Mrs. Fitzjames told her to ask the admiral
to join us in the drawing room.
I was trying to persuade Jane to have
some tea when the admiral walked in.
“What’s all the commotion?” he asked,
then fixed his eyes on Jane and shook his head. “What’s this Kirkpatrick? What have
you done to Jane?”
“Admiral, she’s not well. The archbishop
had her committed to the Retreat. I had to get her out of there. We need your
help.”
He looked at me with steely eyes. “I
knew something like this would happen. It could not be. You should have realised
it wasn’t possible.”
I ignored his reproach. “We have nowhere
else to go, Admiral.”
“You are both outlaws. It’s only a
question of time. They’ll find you and take you back.”
“I can’t go back there,” said Jane.
“I was going to get our wedding licence.
We were to be married in four days’ time, on Christmas Eve.”
The admiral shook his
of her injuries, but I didn’t want to wake her up in the car. Later, at the inn,
I saw the extent of her wounds. She had bruises and scratches on her arms and
legs. She had lost so much weight that her shoulder blades protruded alarmingly
and her hipbones were almost bare of flesh. They had cut her beautiful hair
unevenly and almost as short as a boy’s. I cried bitterly, swearing revenge on
all of them as I washed her and covered her with a nightdress. I was as gentle
as I could be, but she whimpered every time I touched her. I finally convinced her
to drink some beef tea laced with rum to help her sleep. I held her in my arms
all night, while she shook and spoke incoherently through various nightmares.
The following morning we continued our
journey. I had bought a simple day dress, which was so big it almost hung off
her shoulders, but it would have to do. The long cape and bonnet would cover
her well enough. I had also bought lace-up boots like the ones she liked to
wear. The carriage bordered the marsh and crossed the moor along a muddy track.
We passed a knoll and a clump of trees, reached a scattering of small cottages
with low roofs, and latticed casements. I told the driver to follow the road
until we reached the larger house in a hollow vale, bordering the heath.
The carriage stopped outside the high
stone wall, and I carried Jane up the path leading to the front door of Thorpe
House, the home of Jane’s cousin Diana and her husband, Admiral Fitzjames.
***
Chapter VII – Nothing Before Us
Peggy must have heard the carriage stop
and opened the door. She screamed as she watched me kick open the gate and carry
Jane along the path.
“Call Mrs. Fitzjames!” I shouted. She
closed the door and rushed into the house.
I recognised Diana’s voice behind the
door asking Peggy what had happened.
“Mrs. Fitzjames, please open the door,
Jane needs your help.”
Diana opened the door and gasped. “What’s
happened to Jane? She looks wasted to a shadow.”
“The archbishop had her committed to
Grimsby Retreat.”
“How appalling!” She waved her hand
towards the hall. “Come inside.”
She pushed the drawing room door open,
told Peggy to bring tea and sandwiches, and asked us to sit by the fireplace.
“Jane, my dear, you look terrible. How
long has she been in that dreadful place?”
“Fifteen days,” I replied. “She’s hardly
slept and she hasn’t eaten. We need your help, Mrs. Fitzjames.”
“Of course, I’ll help you. We had no
idea. When was she discharged? Why didn’t you take her to Eyre Hall?”
“She wasn’t discharged. She escaped with
my help.”
“You took her out of the asylum without
permission? Oh dear, but how did she get in there in the first place? Are you
in trouble?”
“I’m afraid we are. Nobody must know
we’re here. We are fugitives.”
She covered her mouth with both hands
and gasped.
“Where is the admiral?” I asked.
“Of course, let me call Charles. He’ll
know what to do.” Peggy brought the tea and Mrs. Fitzjames told her to ask the admiral
to join us in the drawing room.
I was trying to persuade Jane to have
some tea when the admiral walked in.
“What’s all the commotion?” he asked,
then fixed his eyes on Jane and shook his head. “What’s this Kirkpatrick? What have
you done to Jane?”
“Admiral, she’s not well. The archbishop
had her committed to the Retreat. I had to get her out of there. We need your
help.”
He looked at me with steely eyes. “I
knew something like this would happen. It could not be. You should have realised
it wasn’t possible.”
I ignored his reproach. “We have nowhere
else to go, Admiral.”
“You are both outlaws. It’s only a
question of time. They’ll find you and take you back.”
“I can’t go back there,” said Jane.
“I was going to get our wedding licence.
We were to be married in four days’ time, on Christmas Eve.”
The admiral shook his
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