The Last Days of Newgate - Andrew Pepper [123]
Despite attempts to rebuild and modernise the prison, it remained a dirty, overcrowded, dark and stinking place. As he waited on Old Bailey, Pyke stared up at the fortress-like walls and wondered whether the prison, which had outlived baying mobs, would soon fall victim to reformist zeal, and whether such an eventuality was to be welcomed or mourned.
Of more immediate concern was the presence of two police constables wearing their familiar dark-blue uniform. The constables were fifty yards away, walking towards him on the same side of the street, when Emily emerged from the prison and looked up and down, perhaps for her carriage. It was Thursday afternoon, the allocated time for her weekly prison visit, and whatever problems or difficulties she may have been facing at Hambledon, she would not miss this appointment. Taking her gently by the arm, he led her down one of the alleyways that ran into Old Bailey. Emily was both agitated and pleased to see him. He took off his cap and wiped soot from his face.
‘We can’t be seen together,’ Emily whispered. At the other end of the alleyway, two figures, one male and one female, lurked in the shadows. ‘I am to be met outside the prison and taken back to Hambledon.’ Her eyes darted nervously back to the street.
‘The other night,’ Pyke said. ‘What did he want?’
Emily laughed bitterly. ‘Oh, the usual. Someone to rant at.’
Pyke studied her expression. ‘He did not suspect you with regard to the robbery?’
‘If he did, he did not say so.’ Emily looked at him. She seemed nervous and a little distant as well. At the far end of the alley, the two figures were slowly moving towards them.
‘Is something the matter?’ he asked, trying to keep one eye on the man and the woman.
Emily wetted her lips. ‘I’m soon to be married.’ She sounded both upset and resigned to this prospect. ‘As soon as my father can make arrangements.’
‘Married? That’s why he wanted to see you the other night?’
Emily nodded. ‘To tell me.’ She shrugged apologetically. ‘This time, he is insistent.’
He looked at her calmly, waiting. ‘I take it you flatly refused him.’
‘He said if I didn’t marry, then he would disinherit me.’
‘He would do that?’ As soon as he had asked the question, Pyke realised how stupid it sounded. The question of what Edmonton wouldn’t do was more pertinent.
Emily confirmed the stupidity of his question with a look of exasperation.
‘But you can’t marry someone simply because your father tells you to.’
‘The money that was settled on me by trust is only a very modest sum.’ She refused to look at him. ‘If I agree to this marriage, my father has promised to quadruple the amount.’
Pyke thought about Emily’s mother and the bleak assessment of the physician.
‘And money is that important to you?’
‘To my work it is. There are many worthy causes it could be put towards.’
‘But you would actually consider marrying some stranger, only for material gain?’
‘You make me sound like some kind of courtesan.’
‘A stranger selected by Edmonton,’ Pyke continued, regardless of whether he hurt her or not. ‘What kind of man might that be?’
‘I don’t know.’ Emily looked down at the ground. Her hands were shaking. ‘I haven’t met him yet.’
‘But you plan to?’
‘I don’t seem to have a choice.’ Emily shrugged. ‘I’m told his name is James Sloan. He’s a solicitor by profession but has political ambitions. He has just been elected as Member of Parliament to represent a constituency near Hambledon. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?’
Pyke thought about the farm labourers and their talk about the suspicious death of their sitting parliamentarian.
‘I’ve heard your father bullies people into voting for whichever candidate he has put up.’
Emily looked towards the main street and then down at her pocket watch.