Ahead, I saw that the door to St. John’s church was open, so I took Martha’s arm and steered her toward it. She offered no resistance when I led her inside and helped her into one of the pews. Once safely in the darkness and quiet of the church, I felt tremors race through my body, and my heart began to hammer as never before. Without meaning to, I fell to my knees and with tears coursing down my cheeks I gave thanks to God for our survival. Martha remained seated, apparently unmoved by our deliverance, but I didn’t care. After I had regained control of myself, I sat down next to Martha.
“My God,” she said. “If we’d left the house a few seconds earlier, that cannonball could have found us.”
“God was with us,” I said.
“Or He really disliked that horse,” Martha said, and began to laugh.
Though I would never have predicted it, Martha’s blasphemy—spoken in a church!—made me laugh harder than I had in many weeks, and once I started, there was little I could do to stop. Despite all that we had seen, or perhaps because of it, Martha and I roared until tears rolled down our cheeks, and the vicar rushed into the chancel, demanding what was the matter. Without answering—indeed, we could hardly breathe—Martha and I stumbled back to the street and continued on to Edward’s house.
By the time we arrived, we had regained our breath and except for a little extra pink in our cheeks, we looked none the worse for our brush with death. Edward’s servant led us into the parlor before disappearing into Edward’s study. Moments later, he emerged and told me that Alderman Hodgson would see me presently. When he left us alone, I had the opening I needed. I strode across the parlor and, without pausing to knock, burst into the study. Edward sat at his desk and looked up quickly, shocked at the interruption. Before he could gain his feet, I crossed to his desk and stood over him while I had my say.
“How dare you make me complicit in the murder of Esther Cooper!” The look on his face told me I had succeeded in putting him on the defensive. “You sent me into York Castle to hasten Esther Cooper’s execution, when you knew that Stephen’s enemies were competing for the privilege of killing him. Did you investigate anyone other than Esther?”
“Lady Bridget, I assure you…,” he sputtered.
“Can you assure me you did not know he was conspiring with the rebels? Can you assure me that you did not know that he and Richard Hooke were each bent on the other’s destruction?” Edward looked harried but said nothing. He could say nothing.
“Well?” I demanded. “Have you no explanation?”
“Lady Bridget,” he started, and then stopped. “The evidence marked her as guilty, and the Lord Mayor demanded a trial for petty treason; as you well know, he had his reasons. By the time I involved you, her guilt had been established in court.”
“That was no trial, and you know it. If I had known the true circumstances, you would have had to find another midwife to do your bidding.”
“If the Lord Mayor had found a more malleable midwife, Esther would have burned yesterday,” he pointed out. It was a fair point, but I had no interest in being fair.
“Is this a comedy to you? As her midwife, I will need to see Mrs. Cooper regularly. She requires special care if the child is to live until birth. I will not leave your office until I have a letter granting me access whenever I please.”
As I hoped, he leapt at the opportunity to mollify me. “Yes, of course. I will send word to the Castle, and write a letter for you immediately.” He fumbled for a piece of paper and scrawled his instructions. As he placed a wax seal on the letter, he glanced up to see if my anger had abated. “Now, you must tell me how you found out about Stephen’s enemies, and whom else you suspect,” he said. “I doubt he told Esther. He was of the opinion that knowledge of such matters ought to be reserved for men.”
“Esther insists on her innocence and has asked me to find out who might have murdered her husband. She said I should look at Stephen’s private correspondence for clues.”
Edward looked at me in shock, the blood draining from his face. “You have read his correspondence? Where is it?”
I could not help smiling at his reaction. “It is secure in my house,” I said. “I take it you know the danger you’d be in if the Lord Mayor read the letters. Corresponding with a rebel such as Stephen Cooper? You’d be in irons before the day was out.”
Edward sighed in relief that the letters were safe. “I simply did my best to save York. Stephen was willing to see the city sacked if that was the only way to deliver it to Parliament. How could I support that?”