Fooling the Tower

Chapter i

Winifred walked to and fro in her tower house of the village of Terregles, tensed and worried about the destinies of her husband and of the many supporters of the exiled James VII. She was one of the most ardent of Jacobite ladies and her husband a devout Catholic and as passionate about the values she too rejoiced. But for these beliefs that they cradled, came in the unlucky bearer of deaths and defeats.

In the wintry weather of December, gloom was dominating every house.

"A woman always knows."

Her heart raced against time, as if, such was the heat she felt rise up in her body, almost numbing her. She felt the ominous could happen yet no reason could her rationale present.

The doubts of her heart crept up to warn her about the Battle of Preston failing.

She prayed to the Almighty that everything be well. Yet, a woman knows, and her heart knew the tragedy was to happen. A fall couldn't be so severe as to take away my Lord.

"My Lady."

The maid's whisper could be hardly heard above the cacophony of the chilly breeze of winter. Drawing the shawl closer to herself Winifred studied the trembling form of her maid.

"My Lady," the petite girl repeated, not looking into the pale blue eyes of her master. The wan, skinny arms of the girl held on to her tattered gown, her eyelashes fluttering excessively.

"Speak. I am ready to face any storm but not a lie and not this excruciating pain that your silence gives me."

"It's a storm that can take away your happiness, my Lady. And I am afraid that I will be the unholy woman who should be announcing it to your presence."

Winifred couldn't take it anymore. She hoped that her Lord was alive and well.

That would be enough for now.

"My Lady, Lord Maxwell has been imprisoned in the Tower of London, and marked for treason along with many rebels. The Earl of Derwentwater, the earls of Scotland and many more have been arrested."

The slender stature of Winifred went frail in dejection, and the maid had to support the now dizzy figure. She set her master to rest on the chair and brought a glass of milk, sobbing as she went down and came up in the blink of an eye.

"My Lady, be strong."

It made her even weaker.

Winifred had been too staunch and proud to show her emotions naked to the world. Her eyes were reddened yet the tears didn't flow. Her gaze bore into nothingness, demanding an answer to the sudden arrival of doom.

"I am in no state to eat and drink, Portia." She refused the glass. How in the world can I warm myself with a glass of milk now? He is rotting in the cell and I shall never be comfortable in his disgrace!

She gritted her teeth. The headache threatened to burst her forehead into a million chunks of flesh and kill her soul. What sin had we committed?

They had vowed to be together since the day their ambitions and dreams had revealed to be one and the same. They had walked together so many days and they had decided to walk thousands of days more.

"There is no chance for forgiveness, is there any?"

"You and me know the outcome well, my Lady."

Quivering lips murmured the name of the Almighty as she finally broke down. Her head now held low and hands covered the shamefaced sight. The blue eyes now flooded like the tides had drowned the lands.