The Soldier, the Gaoler, the Spy and her Lover by Simon Parke

Author:Simon Parke
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SPCK
Published: 2016-12-21T05:00:00+00:00

July 1648

Wood held the letter in his hand, with casual display.

‘Do you know Jane Whorwood?’ he asked.

They sat in Hammond’s study, a large room of dark dressers and chairs and a space that could swallow a person; though it didn’t swallow Wood.

‘Not to my knowledge,’ said Hammond.

‘You would know if you knew her,’ said the inquisitor. ‘People tend to . . . especially men.’ Hammond nodded. What was he talking about? ‘She prefers to remain unknown – though she’s well known to me.’

‘I weary quickly of riddles, Mr Wood,’ said Hammond. He did not warm to this man or trust him: one who never asked a question unless he knew the answer.

‘Still a soldier, I see,’ said Wood with a smile that chilled more than it cheered. A smile should warm rather than freeze, Hammond thought so. ‘Yet here is no riddle, Colonel, just a woman to fear.’

Hammond mocked at the idea. ‘To fear? And how is that to be imagined, Mr Wood? Does she sew people to death?’

‘Read this,’ said Wood, handing him the parchment.

Hammond held it steady in his hand. It was a letter from William Lilly, the odd astrologer fellow, to Wood and recorded a meeting with Mrs Whorwood. She’d apparently been seeking material assistance – aqua fortis, her primary need – for springing the king from captivity at Carisbrooke. Hammond felt ill.

‘She’s a close confidante of the king,’ said Wood. ‘Very close.’

‘How close?’

‘We hear Queen Henrietta applauds her royal support with one hand only.’

‘And you believe she comes here?’

‘I would say so.’

‘You would say so.’ How he hated this man. ‘And do we know her appearance?’

Wood paused for effect. ‘Jane Whorwood is a tall lady, slim build, oval face, red of hair and with a crevice or two in her smile. Have you seen her?’

‘So many pass through,’ said Hammond, knowing his answer was weak. It portrayed him as a man overwhelmed.

‘That describes a lot of your guards, does it?’

He could be a shit, Wood.

‘I will ask around, Mr Wood. I do my best here . . . amid my many duties.’

‘Exceedingly loyal, this woman; a most busy operator on behalf of Charles.’

‘I understand.’

‘The most loyal of any woman in England in his present miseries.’

‘You certainly speak her up, Mr Wood.’

‘I speak no one up. I merely notice what occurs . . . someone has to.’

Such a shit.

‘I do wonder, though, if you do not obsess a little too much about this woman?’ ventured Hammond, emboldened by dislike.

‘You think so?’

‘I do, Mr Wood. I wonder if perhaps you are not a little jealous for her?’ Wood offered nothing back and Hammond stumbled on. ‘And really, what damage can a woman do? Apart from burn a few cakes?’

‘They swive in the guardroom, Colonel, not fifty yards from where we sit – Charles and Jane.’

‘They do?’

‘She fucks with the king, a fact known by every dog in the street . . . except you, it seems.’

*

The meeting with Wood had been difficult. He didn’t care for the man;

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