The Execution

Fifteen Hours Before the Execution

“Name?”

“The Countess of Lyttelton. Lady Wilhelmina Lyttelton.”

“Name of the prisoner?”

“The Earl of Lyttelton. Lord Matthias Lyttelton.”

“And your companions?”

“Lady Pembroke. Mrs. Shannon. And my maid, Phipps.”

“Only two visitors at a time.”

“Can’t you have a little compassion, sir? My husband is due to be executed at dawn. Let us console him.”

“Two visitors.”

“If we must. Mrs. Shannon, please come with me. Lady Pembroke, Phipps, wait here until Mrs. Shannon returns, then we shall trade places.”

Fourteen Hours Before the Execution

“What is your name, warden?”

“Bertie.”

“Bertie? Surely you have a proper name.”

“Albert Brown.”

“And your companion?”

“He’s Rob.”

“Robert Beasley, at your service, my lady. And we’re no wardens, only guards.”

“Thank you. It’s pleasant to know one’s companions’ names.”

“My lady?”

“I imagine we’ll be spending quite some time in your company, given this arbitrary rule of two visitors. Are you married, Mr. Brown?”

“I’m no mister, just Bertie. No wife for me. Rob’s got one though.”

“A sister then? Or a brother?”

“Two of each.”

“Imagine, then that the most beloved of your siblings were in Lord Lyttelton’s position, due to be executed in the morning. Wouldn’t you want your sibling to have the comfort of his family?”

“My brother’s no traitor, ma’am.”

“You guards. Just following orders. You’d imprison the Pope if they told you to.”

“Yes, my lady. He’s a Catholic.”

“Phipps, Lady Lyttelton needs your attention.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Shannon. I’ll go immediately.”

Thirteen Hours Before the Execution

“Come here, Matthias, let me shave your beard.”

“The Lord does not care whether I am clean shaven or bearded. What’s the point?”

“The point is that you are going to walk out this cell this afternoon, and you can’t do it with that beard.”

“Is that Phipps? Phipps, what are you doing?”

“Taking off my second dress, my lord.”

“Put it on, Matthias.”

“Phipps’s dress?”

“In fact, it is Mrs. Shannon’s dress. Phipps was just wearing it.”

“And this makes it better?”

“You’re due to be executed in the morning and you’re worried about propriety? Perhaps we could focus on the important issues at hand here.”

“But Phipps-”

“She’ll turn around. Or no-- go and fetch Mrs. Shannon again. Now, Matthias, dress. And then give me your shirt and trousers. I’ll need them later.”

Twelve Hours Before the Execution

“Back again, are you?”

“Mrs. Shannon is overcome. There are no words for our sorrow.”

“You’re not wailing with your face in your hands, and you’re the one who married the traitor.”

“We all have our ways of handling the travails placed upon us.”

“Bit of a Long Nell, that one.”

“Mrs. Shannon is tall, if that’s what you mean. She and my husband are of a height. But they are siblings, after all. It’s to be expected. And I’ll caution you to keep a civil tongue in your head.”

“Wife of a traitor, and you’ll lecture me on what to say? Nice try, lady, but I’ll say what I want.”

“Phipps, Lady Pembroke — please go and comfort my husband. He has need of your civilized company.”

Eleven and a Half Hours Before the Execution

“In again, out again. Do you women ever stop?”

“My Lady Lyttelton has asked me to fetch supper for them, to sustain them through this difficult time. If you are kind, perhaps she'll be so generous as to share some cold meats with you.”

“I wouldn't say no to some venison.”

“Venison! Lady Littelton is in the throes of mourning, and you demand venison?”

“I wouldn't say no to a meat pie.”

“Perhaps that might be possible.”

“I'll task you to remember your manners if you'd like any of it, Mr. Brown.”

“Mrs. Shannon, now that I am leaving, please take my place by Lord Littelton's side.”

Eleven and a Quarter Hours Before the Execution

“Does that tall woman do anything but cry?”

“Mrs. Shannon is a delicate soul who feels deeply for others. Perhaps you could learn a thing or two from her. Though if you did, you surely wouldn’t be able to speak thusly to a woman who is so affected by her dear brother’s fate.”

“Regular waterworks, she is.”

“There there, Mrs. Shannon. You needn’t show your reddened nose to these horrible men. Let us walk a few minutes, then once you have calmed yourself, we can return.”

Eleven Hours Before the Execution

“My lady instructed me to bring this to Lord Lyttelton.”

“A letter? What’s she need a letter for; she’s been in and out of his cell every five minutes all day. No, no letters.”

“You could read it first, warden, if you like.”

“Read it? Nothing but sedition and treason comes from a traitor, and I’d rather keep my head.”

“I could read it aloud for you, if you prefer.”

“No letters.”

“There’s no shame in not knowing your letters. I’m blessed that my lady taught me, and that she trusts me to manage her correspondence for her. How do you keep track of all the visitors if you don’t write?”

“With my head, same as anyone else.”

“You must have a prodigious memory. May I bring the candle then, to light my lord’s final hours?”

“No.”

“I’ll leave it here, then, and my lady can take it when she returns.”

“I’m no pack mule.”

“What’s this, wardens? What are you forbidding Lady Lyttelton’s maid from doing?”

“We’re not holding her candle so that she can go gallivanting around.”

“Has she asked you to store the candle for her?”

“No, my lady. She wanted to bring it to the prisoner.”

“Then why can she not bring it to Lord Lyttelton?”

“No gifts allowed.”

“I’ll go in without it, Lady Pembroke. If you would be so kind as to hold the letter and the candle, I’ll be just a minute.”

Ten and Three Quarter Hours Before the Execution

“Thank you, Lady Pembroke. The message is delivered.”

“The message, Phipps? I thought you were going to deliver the letter.”

“Lady Lyttelton, you’re back! They wouldn’t let me. These guards, I mean. No gifts, they said.”

“Guards? I see but one.”

“Bertie’s gone for a kip.”

“And what have you to say for yourself, Mr. Beasley? Denying a man the smallest comfort of a little light in his final hours? Think of your wife. Even if she had done the most grievous wrong, would you want her to suffer in the dark?”

“I guess it couldn’t hurt to have the candle. But no letter.”

“Thank you for your kindness, sir. Lady Pembroke, if you’ll accompany me?”

Ten and a Half Hours Before the Execution

“Are they done yet?”

“The tall one and the rich one just left. The wife’s still in there, nattering away.”

Ten and a Quarter Hours Before the Execution

“Matthias, I can’t believe this is your final night on this earth. What will I do without you here in my life? What will our children do? What will become of our dear babies? They're no longer babies, I suppose, but I can't help but see them in their innocence of long ago.

“John looks up to you so. I can’t imagine telling him on the morrow that his father is gone. And Anna, she’s a woman grown with a family of her own, but she’s still a baby to me. And what example will John have of how to be a good father and a good man? And you are a good man, Matthias, no matter what the king may say. I’ll teach the children to hold their heads high and be proud of their family.

“And what of me, my lord? What will I do without you? I can’t even imagine a life without you by my side. Twenty-three years with you by my side day and night, and what will I do every day?

“Our manor will feel so cold and empty without you by my side.”

Eight and a Half Hours Before the Execution

“Thank you, Mr. Beasley and Mr. Brown, for your compassion in allowing me to comfort my husband, and for the candle you so graciously allowed to light his final hours. I now must beg of you one final favour.”

“Maybe if we can, Lady Lyttelton, but you know we mostly can’t do nothing.”

“My husband now rests in prayer and asks that you allow him to pray for his salvation undisturbed until… the time comes that you must interrupt him in the morning.”

“The candle will burn out in a few hours, my lady.”

“One needs no light to see the Lord.”

“No one tries to go in there at night anyhow. Maybe a few drunks in the cell if we round them up.”

“And if you do happen to bring some inebriated fellows in, could you see to it that they are in a separate cell from my husband’s?”

“Ten pence is barely--”

“This should stand you for whatever your needs may be, this night and perhaps another.”

“If you put it that way, it’s no skin off my nose to put those drunks in another cell.”

“Thank you, wardens. I will return in the morning if it’s allowed, to comfort my husband in his final moments.”

One Hour Before the Execution

“What time is it?”

“The sun will rise soon. Time to get the prisoner.”

“No wife turned up? Guess she wasn’t so devoted as she said."

“Looks like he hasn’t moved all night. Still kneeling in front of the bed. Tuppence says he fell asleep with the blanket over his head; no way he’s still praying.”

“I’ll take that bet. Hey, Lord Doomed, wakey wakey. Time to go see the king.”

“Bertie, he’s not moving.”

“Of course, he’s— he’s fallen on the floor. Get up, you lout. You can’t fake sick to get out of an execution.”

“Bertie, that’s not him.”

“Of course it’s him, who else would it be?”

“It’s his shirt and trousers, all filled with straw.”

“Your soul to the devil! How?”

“I’ll give you that coin back if you tell the warden instead of me.”

One Minute After the Execution

“Wilhelmina?”

“Yes?”

“What time is it?”

“Just after 7 in the morning, I think.”

“I should be dead by now.”

“Yes, well, you’re not.”

“But I should be.”

“And I spared you that fate.”

“Do you think they’ve noticed I’ve gone?”

“Surely by now. But if the wardens kept their promises, they’ve only just noticed. By the time they decide which direction to pursue, we’ll be in Dover and soon enough on a ship to Calais.”

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You could say, ‘Thank you, Wilhelmina, my beloved, beautiful and brilliant wife, saviour of my heart’s breath, whose cunning and intellect are unmatched, who could outwit Voltaire himself in a chess match, who braved the lion’s den for me, for saving me from a most horrible and painful death?’”

“I haven’t your knack with words, but yes. All that and more.”

“Is that all?”

“Thank you.”

“I suppose that’s a start.”