Free The Gallows Bride by Rebecca King Page A

constant flow of chatter.
Tiredness began to creep up on her as the wonderfully scented water
in the bath began to soak the grime away, and soothe her aching
limbs. Giving herself over to Eliza’s care, she submitted to the
maid who was tasked with washing and then combing the wild mass of
her hair, and listened as Eliza told her about the assorted family
members currently residing at Havistock Hall.
    Eventually, curiosity won through and as soon as her hair lay
in neatly combed waves about her shoulders, she placed a gentle
hand on Eliza’s, stilling the flurry of movement.
    “ Tell me what happened to me.” She knew that if anyone in the
house wasn’t inclined to tiptoe around her, it would be
Eliza.
    “ What do you remember?” Eliza asked cautiously, not wanting to
bring unnecessary distress to her elder sibling.
    “ Not much. I have vague snatches of something sinister, but it
vanishes before I can make sense of it. It’s all so very odd,” she
frowned and stared at her knees. She had the distinct recollection
of resting her head on them wearily, but couldn’t remember anything
about her surroundings.
    “ Maybe we should update you later,” Eliza replied cautiously,
picking up the brush and absently brushing Jemima’s already brushed
hair.
    “ No, Eliza, now.” Jemima turned and placed her hands on
Eliza’s, tugging them until her sister sat on the floor beside the
tub facing her.
    Eliza
knew that Jemima wouldn’t give in until she had what she wanted.
With a deep sigh, she stared at the wall thoughtfully for several
moments.
    “ You were -” Eliza paused, and considered her words carefully,
“we were told you had been hanged.” She sensed the tension in
Jemima who simply sat and stared hard at her, clearly
nonplussed.
    “ Where?”
    “ At Derby Gaol, where you were being held in the condemned
cell until your execution this morning,” Eliza whispered, tears
pooling in her eyes at the memory of Jemima’s arrival in the house
mere hours ago.
    It
seemed such a long time now, and so many things had happened since
that it was almost impossible to keep up with the emotions sweeping
through her. “You were caught standing beside the dead bodies of
the Mayor of Derby and his wife, with a knife and his pouch of
coins in your hand.”
    “ I didn’t do it,” Jemima immediately protested, knowing with
certainty that it was the absolute truth.
    “ We know. You were set up by Scraggan,” Eliza replied, her
eyes remorseful as she studied the pale, gaunt face of her beloved
elder sibling. Today had brought so many twists and surprises that
she wasn’t sure what to make of it, but she was so very glad about
the latest turn of events.
    “ Scraggan.”
    Memory
came flooding back, and Jemima had a sudden image of a grey haired,
wiry man with black eyes and a scar across his chin. A
smuggler.
    “ Peter,” Jemima whispered, thinking back to the moment when
she had stepped out of that icy room, into the long
corridor.
    “ He was there.”
    “ At the hanging?” Jemima gasped, putting her hand to her
throat in horror. Only then did she think to feel the flesh around
her neck, frowning at the unbruised skin beneath her
fingertips.
    Suddenly
memories began to unfurl, and she stared into space as the scene of
the night before replayed in her mind: Peter’s pleas for her to
help herself, and her own heartbreak at having to leave him,
knowing what lay in store for her.
    She
sucked in a sob and stared in horror at her sister.
    “ You remember.” Eliza didn’t need Jemima to confirm it. The
trauma of the memories were clearly written on her face.
    “ I wasn’t hanged, was I?” She turned beseeching eyes upon
Eliza, frantically searching the amber depths so similar to her own
for the truth.
    Eliza
shook her head slowly, a deep frown marring her brow. “No, clearly
you weren’t, but we were told you had been hanged. When the men
brought you back here, your body was as lifeless as one of the
departed. We all