He chuckled. ‘No doubt I’ve deserved no less, but indeed, I’ve had occasion to visit almost every one of the city’s shackle-haunts, yet never before Bread Street’s gaol. A delightful new experience.’
‘I’m glad to oblige,’ sniffed Tyballis. ‘But I really can’t see why you want to visit gaols so often, especially in those clothes. Unless you had – a father, or a brother perhaps …’
‘Luckily, no.’ Andrew crossed to the small table, lifted the jug and poured two cups of wine. He brought one to Tyballis and drank from the other. ‘And for your information,’ he said, ‘I simply wear whatever clothes seem suitable for whichever errand I happen to be on. Now, drink up, child. It will do you good.’ She obeyed, drinking in both wine and warmth. ‘Now,’ he continued, ‘we’ve not yet discussed either your present needs or the particular difficulties that led to your incarceration. I’m afraid you will have to be honest with me. A troublesome necessity, but imperative. First, will you tell me truthfully if you were hurt?’
She shook her head. ‘I wasn’t.’
His smile did not reach his eyes. ‘Having some experience with prison conditions,’ he said softly, ‘I have rarely known of a woman – of even passable appearance – who was not molested upon entering an unsegregated cell. I cannot undo what is done, but I can help in other ways.’
Tyballis blushed again. ‘No one touched me. The constable was someone I used to know, and he told the other prisoners to leave me alone. Then there was Casper Wallop.’ Andrew raised one eyebrow. ‘He frightened me at first,’ she admitted, ‘and he looks like an ogre. But then he was kind and kept the rats and everyone else away. He knew Borin, you see. I didn’t tell him I’d run off from home and didn’t talk to my husband anymore. And I don’t know what crime he committed, but he’s going to be hanged in two days. I expect he did something horrible but I’m awfully glad he was still in there because he was exceedingly kind to me.’
‘Then I’m very much obliged to Mister Wallop,’ Andrew said, his smile a little more relaxed. ‘Now, drink your wine. Food will arrive in due course, but since I have no manservant of my own, I’m at present served by a clutch of dawdling northerners who feel both overawed and misunderstood. They work at a speed that reminds me of monks at prayer.’ He waited until she had sipped her wine, then said, ‘Are you hungry, little one?’
‘Starving.’
‘We shall eat first and you can sleep afterwards,’ he said. ‘But while we wait, I wish to understand how you came to be in gaol. Naturally I’ve spoken at some length to the sheriff, but the information he gave seemed singularly unlikely.’
‘It was Margery,’ said Tyballis simply. ‘She’s Borin’s mother and she hates me. Of course, she wanted any excuse to get Borin out of Newgate, so she made up a story about it being me who killed the baron. I think she told the sheriff that I came home that night in Throckmorton’s cloak, which of course I didn’t, because it was your cloak, and it wasn’t velvet at all, and I didn’t see any bloodstains either.’
‘Though always possible it had some,’ said Andrew. ‘You told me you sold it. I imagine it was worth a penny, no more.’
‘I got nearly a shilling,’ smiled Tyballis. ‘And I bought some bread and cheese and a pie for Borin. But that’s a long story. Anyway, Margery told the sheriff I’d stabbed the baron, and she told the new baron the same thing. I don’t think it was very fair of the sheriff just to take their word for it, though I suppose Throckmorton intimidated him.’
‘No doubt. I believe I shall do him the honour of visiting dear Harold tomorrow morning.’
‘And I don’t see why he thought I did it either,’ objected Tyballis. ‘After all, I’m not really a convincing murderess, am I? And what possible motive would I have?’
‘I’ve a fairly good idea of Throckmorton’s motives,’ Andrew said. ‘But I shall discuss that with you another time, child. I hear our dinner approaching.’
It was over a pleasant meal of salted beef, capon in pastry and pork broiled in vinegar sauce, and after Andrew had waved away the two men hovering with their ladles in hand, that Tyballis said, ‘I’ve answered all your questions, Mister Cobham, which of course I’m happy to do, and I am intensely grateful for what you’ve done and will do anything – I mean anything you like – to show my thanks, but would you be so kind as to answer some questions yourself? I am dying of curiosity.’
‘Having rescued you from the pit,’ he said, cutting her a thick slice of salted beef and depositing it on her platter, ‘it would now seem a shame were you to expire of curiosity.’ He looked up and smiled at her. ‘However, you should really not speak with your mouth full. Nor, may I remind you, should you call me Mister Cobham again, or I shall take it as an insult.’
‘Well, Drew, then.’ She swallowed her mouthful of beef with a gulp and frowned. ‘If you stop calling me child. You make me feel like a little girl, and I’m not. None of it makes sense to me, but how did you manage to walk into the gaol and just get me out like that without anyone stopping us? And how did you know I was there, anyway? And where are we, and is this your house? How can it be? And what were you doing yesterday, riding with those people? I was amazed to see you. One of them looked so grand he was positively terrifying. You looked really grand as well, and you still do, though at least you’re not still wearing that gold collar or I should be scared to talk to you.’
‘And how sadly disappointing that would be,’ smiled her companion, ‘since your conversation is so riveting.’ He refilled her wine cup and smiled. ‘The terrifying man was, the Duke of Gloucester, who owns the horse I was riding and the house in which we are now sitting, although naturally it is not ever inhabited by dukes. These rooms are part of the annexes attached to Crosby’s Place, being Gloucester’s London home. He has rented it for some years now, and the additional buildings of the annexe are used by those to whom his grace gives his permission for reasons of temporary convenience. I am in his service, hence the collar of York. Gloucester is a prince who believes in justice, and it was by his authority that you were released today.’
‘He doesn’t know me.’
‘But he knows me,’ said Andrew, ‘which was sufficient. Now, finish your wine. You have not had an easy night, I’m sure, and should rest now. I’ll show you the bedchamber.’
Tyballis quickly drained her cup and blushed the colour of the wine. ‘Yes, of course. I see,’ she said in a small voice. She had not expected it, but then, remembering the men in her past, she thought she should have expected it after all. ‘I understand. I’m ready.’
Andrew regarded her for a moment and then snorted loudly. ‘As usual, my dear, you understand nothing at all. Unfortunately there is only one bedchamber here, but I intend you to occupy it alone. For one thing, you must be exhausted, and for another, you smell of the gutter and the latrine. Once you have removed your gown, I intend to have it burned.’
‘It’s the only one I have,’ she objected.
‘You will find others in the garderobe,’ he said.
Tyballis shook her head with sudden determination. ‘Certainly not. I won’t wear things left by your – other women. And I don’t care what I smell like. It isn’t my fault and it’s not at all nice of you to mention it.’
‘Tiresome girl.’ Andrew stood and took a firm hold of her arm. ‘I have no intention of discussing my bedchamber arrangements with you now or ever, but in fact the clothes have never belonged to anyone else known to me. You may have a bath when you wake, and I’ll arrange a tub set up here in front of the fire. In the meantime, you’ll remove those disgusting threads, or I shall do it myself. I imagine you’re perfectly well aware that I don’t object to undressing young women when necessary.’