Fooling the Tower

Chapter ii

The Lady and her domestic confidante, Cecilia Evans, set off for Newcastle in the wintry days of December. Their journey to the South was full of struggle and deep snow, filled with premonitions and hopes equally. But with Evans on her side, Winifred had got some emotional support.

Unfortunately on reaching York they got the last Stagecoach. Things worsened when the journey was stopped after sixty miles, in Stamford, due to snow and bad roads. But with determination and the money they had, the two ladies arranged for two new horses and reached London. Financially they were still secure, if not the safest. But money could not rescue her husband all alone.

In London, she had taken lodgings in Mrs. Mill's house. Mrs. Mills was taking good care of her. The hostess was kind and quiet, empathizing with Winifred. The two had made a good bond soon.

Upon reaching though, Winifred was clearly made aware again by many of the elite and noble ones how her husband could never escape the punishment. Lord Nithsdale was too precious due to the legacy he belonged to and his power. But many of the people, both the powerful and common folk sympathised with her, and few even vowed to be of help.

At present Winifred sat in a chair and pondered over the sudden changes in her life.

"He had been brought to the Tower on January the ninth," Evans stated.

"It took us a lot of time to come here, but it was inevitable due to the bad weather and the distance."

Evans nodded, preparing her Lady a cup of tea.

"I suppose you have made some plans. I wish to assist you in them." Evans gently rubbed Winifred's hands. "I have been with you since you left Wales. And I shall be with you till the end."

Winifred smiled. She wasn't alone, after all. She just had to keep her heart strong.

**

Overlooking the river Thames and hovering over her ambitious hopes stood the Tower of London. Winifred was determined to memorise it well and if Almighty was good enough to her, even intimidate this beastly architecture.

She was escorted to inside, but on requesting the guards to allow her to see her husband, she was denied.

"The Lady shall only be allowed to meet her husband if she is willing to stay with him in the prison."

"Is this how you treat the reputed and noble?" Evans scoffed.

Winifred pinched her arms, asking to tone down her temper.

"I understand your misery, my Lady, but we guards can only follow the rules."

So loyal to the king? I see, but I am loyal to wits.

"I am ill. How can a human expect ever to see the wife in happy scarlet cheeks and brilliant eyes, when her husband is at the brink of death?" She sighed, removing a tress off her forehead. "I just wanted to assure him of my safety and that I haven't succumbed to death."

The guards lowered their heads. They too had heard much about this woman and many pitied her. Being ordinary they could do nothing.

But Winifred knew, where sentiments didn't work, dirty tricks did.

"I hope this is justified." She took out a gold pouch and extended it towards one of the guards. Evans looked at her in awe. Sure, her Lady knew much better than her in maneuvering through sticky situations.

The guards exchanged some looks, questioning each other silently. At last Winifred's offer was accepted.

"But please not be vocal about this."

Winifred gave her word. The lock was opened.

Her heart skipped a beat. The key got out the lock, the path was clear. In the silence and dimness of the chamber she could feel her husband's approaching steps and keen gaze.

She returned his prayers with a warm hug. The two were left in privacy. Time froze as their gaze interlocked.

She took in his form– wilder and more disheveled; the prison had worsened his looks. He studied her– the same evergreen youth and fiery promises burning in her eyes.

The two kissed fervently.

"I thought I would never see you again."

His beard had grown a lot. His eyes were tired, covered by a shade of heavy darkness.

She shushed him. "I am your shadow, my Lord. This time I was late though. The night was too deep."

He cried upon her shoulders, letting all his emotions out.

It broke her heart to know her beloved husband had yearned to see her. Yes, she wasn't a soldier or a woman ready to take arms and be rogue, but she was a woman in whose heart William could confide in all his fears.

"It is the last week we prisoners have after we were condemned. I hate to use that term against my name!"

"Do not lose hope."

"Can nothing be done, my love? I would have happily given myself up in war, and if Fate is so cruel, my head be at the feet of the London folk. But what hurts me is our separation. It feels our time wasn't enough."

"You make my resolve weaken with such words!"

He wiped her hot tears, chuckling at her wrathful pursed lips. "But I can only be weak before you. You don't judge me, only love."

If only my love be so powerful.

"I have some plans."

Nithsdale raised a brow. He expected to hear more.

"I shall first go the usual way of submitting a petition. Many shall be with me. I have gained support. But in case we fail, I shall take dramatic measures."

He looked as if he didn't approve of this step regarding the petition. She understood his feelings.

"I hope you are not endangering yourself."

"I have to play this game. Life has pushed me into it."

"And what may be my role in your plan?"

"Follow my orders."

He swore, had the present been not so gruesome, he would have taken her to bed.

"I think I will side with logic, not madness."

"You say you wish to be with me some more years?"

"Forever. But I want you to live, too."

She smacked his arm. "Enough is enough! I will narrate my plan now and you must listen to it. I am concerned about you more than anyone else."

So she whispered into his ears the sweet wicked plot she had weaved.