The Undoing Of A Lady

through me.” He had kissed her cheek. “I know I can trust you to explain to him that I behaved with honor. Be happy,” he had added as he slammed the door and gave the coachman the order to move off.

Lizzie galloped down Fortune’s Folly High Street, scattering the crowds like chaff, hearing the gasps of shock and speculation and seeing the scandalized faces of the crowd. So the news was already out. Josie had been right- gossip spread faster than the plague in Fortune’s Folly and no doubt Tom would have fanned the flames by telling everyone she had run away just like her mother.

At Chevrons she discovered that Nat was from home and had not been back since the previous night. Her appearance at the house caused a minor sensation; her maid screamed on seeing her and threw her apron over her head

“Oh milady!” The girl gasped, “They are saying such terrible things about you! They say you ran off with a handsome lord and that you are a bolter just like your mama, and they are taking bets in the Morris Clown Inn that Lord Waterhouse will divorce you! Your brother has staked a thousand pounds on it! Oh, milady!”

“Thank you, Clara,” Lizzie said. “This is one bet I will ram down Tom’s throat until he chokes on it.” Even so, the nerves that had been tormenting her ever since she had set off home from the inn at Keighley did an extra large somersault in her stomach. Would Nat divorce her for her supposed adultery? The panic closed her throat. That was what had happened to Lady Scarlet and the shame and dishonor had been appalling. Lizzie had wept for her mother every day whilst the lurid court case was dragged through the newspapers and penny prints, each detail more sordid and humiliating than the last. She could not believe Nat would do such a thing to her.

In an agony of impatience and anxiety she dashed out of the house again. She simply could not sit at home and wait for Nat to return. She had to do something, so in the end she called at The Old Palace to see if Laura or Dexter knew where Nat had gone. There was no answer to her pull on the bell, though she could hear the jangle of it echo deep inside the building. Carrington the butler did not shuffle up to see who was calling. No one came.

Deeply disappointed, Lizzie turned to go and then, suddenly, the door was flung wide and Alice Vickery stood on the threshold. She looked hot, harassed and flustered and when she saw Lizzie her hopeful expression melted into one of deep disappointment.

“Lizzie! Oh, no! I was so hoping that you were Dr. Salter!”

“Alice,” Lizzie said, catching her friend’s arm, “please, I need your help. Do you know where Nat is? I must see him.”

Alice did not respond immediately and Lizzie felt chilled. She had known that her friends must also have heard the gossip, but if they did not believe her innocent, if they would not help her, then all truly was lost.

“I know things look bad,” she said desperately. “I know you will have heard terrible scandal about me, but I swear I did not betray Nat with John Jerrold! Oh, I was stupid and hurt and I behaved badly but I need to find Nat and tell him I love him and explain everything-” She stopped as Alice looked at her as though seeing her for the first time.

“Oh, Lizzie,” Alice said, grabbing her hands, “I want to help you-of course I do-but I cannot do so now! There is no time. Laura and Lydia both went into labor some time ago and they are about to give birth and Dr. Salter is attending a confinement over near Peacock Oak and the midwife is with him, and lord knows how long they will be gone and in the meantime I am alone here with the servants and none of us know what to do!” She looked despairing. “We have boiled some water and found clean towels but what to do with them-” She shrugged hopelessly.

“Laura and Lydia have both gone into labor at the same time?” Lizzie repeated, so stunned by the news that she momentarily forgot her own troubles. “What are the odds against that?”

“I don’t know!” Alice snapped. “I don’t have time to calculate odds right now.” Lizzie heard a wailing noise float down the stairs toward them, followed by the sound of Rachel, the maid, with an edge of hysteria to her voice, exhorting calm. “That’s Lydia,” Alice said. “Oh Lizzie-” Her blue eyes were frightened now. “What shall we do?”

“Where are Dexter and Miles?” Lizzie demanded, following her into the hall.

“They are out looking for you!” Alice said. “They found Nat in gaol in Skipton this morning. I have just had word from them. Apparently Nat had been searching for you all night and ended up in a brawl. Nat of all people! Anyway, I have sent Carrington out to fetch them back. Laura keeps asking for Dexter.” She bit her lip. “Lydia has no one,” she finished softly.

A sort of fatalistic calm took hold of Lizzie. She had absolutely no idea about childbirth, either, for its secrets were shrouded in mystery that was hidden from the uninitiated. A part of her wanted to leave Alice and to ride out to find Nat-Nat who had spent the entire night looking for her-but she knew she could not do that to her friends. They needed her now. Everything else would have to wait.

“Lydia has me,” she said. “I am the baby’s aunt.” She squared her shoulders. “Very well then, Alice. We shall have to deal with this ourselves.” She gave Alice a little shake. “Laura has done it before, so she knows what happens-”

“I don’t think that helps, judging by the things that Laura is saying in between the swearing,” Alice said miserably.

“First we send for Josie Simmons,” Lizzie continued firmly. “She used to be a midwife before she became the landlady of Half Moon House. Send Frank on a fast horse. He can take mine. I know he is the gardener, but he rides well. Then send someone for your mama, Alice. She is only next door and she has given birth to two children, so she must know what to do.”

“Mama is hopeless in a crisis,” Alice said, staring at her.

“Well, she will be good in this one,” Lizzie said decisively. “I have a feeling she will do us proud. Go!” She gave Alice a little push and then when she had made sure that her friend had hurried off she turned toward the stair. As she put her foot on the bottom tread there was a scream from above that almost made her turn and run, then she stiffened her spine. She had lost so many people. She hoped she would not lose Nat, too. What was certain was that she would not lose Lydia and Laura, two of her best friends, through ignorance or folly or neglect. She would give her last breath to help them even though she had little real idea what she must do. She was praying very hard as she ran up the stairs, harder than she had ever prayed before in her life.

WALKING INTO THE Crossed Hands Inn in Keighley, Nat Waterhouse was assailed by the now familiar and deeply repulsive smell of ale and sweat. He doubted that he would ever want to drink a pint of beer again. He had seen the inside of every inn on the road from Skipton to Keighley and he hated the lot of them, but on the way he had picked up news of a traveling coach with two occupants, one of whom was a flame-haired woman of staggering beauty and he had known that it was Lizzie.

There was only one occupant of the taproom at the Crossed Hands, a man sitting in the corner by the window placidly drinking a glass of brandy and reading the newspaper. As Nat came in he rose to his feet.

“Waterhouse,” he said. “I thought you would come.”

Nat, dragging up every ounce of civilized behavior he could muster and finding it exceedingly difficult, just about managed not to hit him across the room.

“Jerrold,” he said. He looked around. “Where is Lizzie?”

His mind was already conjuring up images, unbearable, intolerable pictures of Lizzie lying in bed upstairs, naked, sated and blissful, having shared a night of tempestuous passion with her lover. His fingers itched to take Jerrold by his immaculately tied neck cloth and murder him without further ado. He had played this moment over and over in his head, time and again, telling himself that if he really loved Lizzie and she wanted to be with Jerrold and not with him, he should let her go. Perhaps a more generous man would indeed free his wife so that she could be happy. But Nat was damned if he was going to let Lizzie go without a fight.

He waited in an agony of suspense for what seemed an hour and then saw the self-deprecating smile that twisted Jerrold’s lips.

“Lady Waterhouse has gone back to Fortune’s Folly,” Jerrold said. “She didn’t want to be with me. She has gone to find you, Waterhouse. Good luck,” he added, ruefully, to the empty room.

Nat had already gone.

WHEN DEXTER ANSTRUTHER, Miles Vickery and Nat Waterhouse arrived at The Old Palace some three hours later, accompanied by an exhausted and tottering Carrington, they found the place in uproar. Dr. Salter and the midwife, Mrs. Elton, had only just arrived. Josie Simmons and Alice’s mother, Mrs. Lister, were sitting on the stairs with the maids Rachel and Molly and Frank the gardener, and appeared to be working their way through the