The Lady of the Tower

Louisa’s hands felt clammy. This moment had been coming for weeks, but now it was here, it was so much worse than she’d imagined. He – Ed – was supposed to be in his usual rooms when she arrived, and he would lean forward for their customary kiss, she could lean back a little and the conversation she’d been putting off would begin. Maybe he would finally realise what she had realised three weeks earlier when they had drunkenly kissed – when her eyes had stayed open and stared at him all the way through, waiting for him to stop slobbering over her. It had felt like nothing, and that nothing was a strong decider.
Now, however, he had dropped down on one knee, and Louisa felt like she was falling, unable to stop herself, unable to stop the ground from arriving at her. How could he not have seen?
He stopped talking. She hadn’t even heard. She knew what the question was, and couldn’t find a way of saying anything. Why today? Louisa looked down at the giant ring being offered, and looked up to see the door twitch slightly. The King or Queen might be behind that door. Oh, why hadn’t she spoken up earlier? Why was she so stupid?
She shut her eyes, hoping that Ed wouldn’t take it to mean she was swooning with delight, but she had to take a moment to try to bring her thoughts together. There was nothing else to do – she had to be honest.
“No, Ed. I will not marry you.”
He didn’t reply. He looked up as if he’d misheard her.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you for…” She hesitated, wondering how cruel to be at this point. Maybe it was kinder to be straightforward and make it clear. “…well, ever since that kiss we had after your party. It meant nothing, Ed. I thought I loved you, I really did, but in that moment I realised I just like you an awful lot. I don’t love you.”
“You might.”
“No. Not now.”
Ed stood up and drew himself up to his full height, quite a way above Louisa. He could act like the prince when he wanted to. “You’ve found someone else!” he shouted.
It was a sudden shift of moods she’d become all too familiar with over the years, and Louisa shrank back instinctively. She didn’t like feeling afraid of him – they had been playmates for so long, and almost something more – she certainly hoped they would end up friends. It would in any event be a very bad idea to leave him hating her, for her family as well as her.
“This is between you and me, Ed. If I don’t love you, what else matters?”
“You could learn to. You like me. We’ve known each other all our lives.”
She shook her head, and stepped back.
“Don’t make me beg. I will beg. Don’t make me.”
“Ed, please. Please just take in what I’ve said, and think it through. I hope you come to understand, and I hope you realise there was nothing between us. At least not as lovers.”
He was breathing heavily, and Louisa wanted to get away as quickly as she could. The door at the far end of the room opened suddenly, and the Queen swept in, as if she’d been casually passing through this way and heard talking.
“Now, my dear Edward. It appears you have not been successful on this occasion. Perhaps discretion and avoid burning any bridges…?”
Louisa curtseyed.
“My dear Louisa. I am so disappointed if you are not to be my daughter-in-law quite yet, but perhaps there is time to think things through. For now, though, you look as if you are in a hurry to leave.”
“Thank you, your majesty.” She curtseyed again, and turned to walk out. Her walk was unsteady and faster than normal. Out of the room she shut the door behind her and leaned back on it, gasping for breath.
She had done it.
She had kept her promise, and had finally been brave. It couldn’t have gone on. As she walked further out of the palace her shaking continued, but it was slowly turning from fear into nervous excitement.
Karl would be waiting.

She rushed through the town, people separating to let her through. Louisa saw none of them – just a blur passing in front of her. The only thing in focus was the tower, clutching onto the side of the giant black rock that loomed over their city. Once the home of the local lord, it had been three generations since it had been inhabited. For another generation it had been a watch-tower, but now it was more of an attraction, opening its doors and offering the best view of the city to anyone with a shilling to spare.
It would be closing in half an hour, and sunset would be in an hour.
Louisa shook as she approached it, and for a few moments thought of turning round and running home, to escape what she was about to do. It was almost overwhelming. It wasn’t what a good young lady, brought up properly, should even consider doing. She knew that. Her mother would be appalled. She stopped dead in the road, and a carriage had to swerve to avoid her. The driver shouted. She waved and stepped out of the road. The carriage continued a short way down the road before stopping. Louisa didn’t care about anything but the tower, and Karl within it. This was the night. Finally, she had done what she had promised. No more receiving meaningless kisses and begging forgiveness for her weakness. Now she would get the kiss she wanted, that she craved.
By the time she reached the door the sign had already turned to CLOSED, so Louisa had to knock a few times before the doorman appeared.
“We’re closed.”
“I’m here to see Karl.”
There was a loud sigh, and a shout.
A few long minutes passed before Karl opened the flap.
“Didn’t you hear? We’re closed.”
“Come on Karl. Not this time.”
“Do you mean you…?”
“I did.”
“My god.” He fumbled with the lock and pulled the heavy iron door open.
Louisa walked into the semi-darkness. Karl closed the door behind them and they walked past the doorman, now looking disapproving.
“I’ll make it up to you,” said Karl.
“You’d better.”
Karl led Louisa up the spiral staircase. Her legs felt heavy already, and she hadn’t climbed more than one storey yet. When they got past the first trap door Karl stopped and turned.
“You really told him?”
Louisa nodded.
“How did he take it?”
“Not well. He was trying to propose.”
Karl laughed.
“No, Karl. I feel sorry for him. He didn’t know.”
“How could he not? You deserve someone who can tell your moods. At least a little.”
“Really? What’s my mood now?”
“Wild excitement, I hope.”
She reached forward and held his hands. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Well, I think so. I’m nervous.”
“Are you sure you’re ready for this? It can’t be undone, you know.”
Louisa took the question seriously, and did stop to think. This was not what one ought to do, she knew that. This was something scandalous. It would ruin her reputation if anyone found out. She took a deep breath, looked at Karl as he stood patiently awaiting her, and nodded.
“Come here.” He pulled her to him and they kissed, and her stomach exploded with butterflies. She felt as if she would crumple, but he was holding her tight. This was so right.
Louisa lost track of time as they kissed, climbed a few more stairs, and stopped to kiss again. When they finally reached the top floor, with its large windows overlooking the city, the sun had long set.
“Are you sure you’re sure about this?” asked Karl.
“Which bit? The roof, or you?”
“Well, both. I want to make sure you’re sure.”
“I gathered that. Yes, Karl. It’s the most special place. It’s warm, it’s where you kissed me for the first time, and it’s a place I want to remember.”
“The roof?”
Louisa nodded again.
She unfastened her overskirt, and it dropped to the floor. She stepped out of it.
Karl stared. “You really are going to do this.”
“Imagine it, Karl. The warm wind on our skin, the feeling of each other. And you…”
“My god I’m imagining it.”
There was a sound way down below.
“Oh balls. Probably some lout wants to get in and the doorman needs help. Just hang on and I’ll check he’s all right.”
“I’ll be upstairs then,” said Louisa, swaying slightly, only partly to entice Karl to return quickly, quite a lot because she was feeling so nervous. She watched as he disappeared downstairs, and she removed the rest of her clothing, feelings welling up inside her. Each step up the cold stone stairs felt like an enormous climb, and she had to hold on to the wall for support, afraid of falling.
She pushed open the trap door and stepped out onto the roof. The parapet was high enough that no one could see her. The wind buffeted her bare skin, making it tingle all over. The stars were bright, and the moon made enough light to give the top of the tower a beautiful glow. Louisa stood with her arms outstretched, feeling the wind under her arms, between her legs, and as she shut her eyes and felt it seemed the most magical place in the world.

The trap door opened, and Louisa turned to watch Karl, imagining him appearing in front of her naked for the first time, for their first time, so long awaited.
When Ed’s face appeared, she dropped her arms and tried to cover herself.
“Wait down there,” he said to someone unseen below. “Don’t let anyone up.”
“Ed. What are you doing here?”
“I thought as much. But with Karl? You abandoned me for that son of a shopkeeper? And now I find you here, acting like a whore. Waiting for him. You disgust me.”
“What have you done to him?”
Hal laughed, a horrible sick laugh, that Louisa had heard before but overlooked. He walked over to her and grabbed her shoulders. “He’ll be fine. God, look at you. I should have had this. And to think I was going to beg, when you were just like a bitch on heat waiting to get back to him.”
“It wasn’t like that, Ed. Please let me go. You’re hurting me.”
With a deft move of his leg, Ed looped it round Louisa’s feet and knocked her down. With her arms held she collapsed down and hit her head on the stone. The world went dark for a moment.
When she awoke for a moment she imagined Karl on top of her, and for a moment felt comfort and love at the touch, but as she opened her eyes and saw Ed she shrieked and tried to hit him. Her hands turned to fists, but his weight pinned on her arms was too much, and she couldn’t move. She tried to twist and turn, but nothing moved him. His legs held hers apart as he thrust up and down into her. She screamed at him again, and tried to headbutt him, but he was too far away. He grinned.
She felt something odd inside her. He pulled out and stood up, fastening his trousers.
“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” he said. He turned away and lifted the trap door carefully, and walked down the steps, not looking back.
Louisa lay lying at the stars. She felt her mouth move strangely at the corners, and tears began. She shut her eyes, still holding her hands as fists, wanting to wake up. Wanting this not to have happened. Wanting to go back in time. As long as she didn’t move, perhaps this would be a horrible nightmare.
She felt cold – colder than she could ever remember. She rolled half over, and curled up, shaking. 
By the time she began crawling towards the trap door there was a faint hint of sunrise in the distance.
She pulled the trap door open and swung her legs round and down. Her back felt sore, her legs were sore, and between her legs ached. She sat on the stairs catching her breath before she began easing herself down, step by step.
Her clothes were where she had left them, so long ago.
Louisa didn’t feel better putting them back on, but instead more distant, as if she could be moving a mannequin around on strings and pretend something was normal.
By the time she had her clothes fully on, the sun had clearly risen. The tower would open again soon. She began walking down the stairs, holding firmly onto the wall, remembering why she had had to hold it on the way up. She burst into tears every few steps, until she got to the second storey. She stopped and found a bit of cloth, and wiped her face as best she could. She tried to pull herself up to her full height, and stand clear of the wall. A little shaky at first, it took a while before she was able to stand without swaying, but she was determined. She had to do this. One step, then another, then another, until the final trap door was ahead of her. Pull the rope, and she would see the doorman.
Did he know?
Louisa pulled the flap, and the doorman didn’t look up. “They said you’d be a while. The door’s unlocked.”
Louisa felt like collapsing again. He knew. He had sat here, knowing. He was going to watch her walk out of that door, knowing.
Her feet had a momentum to them now, though, and they carried her along and to the door. She pulled it, amazed how heavy it was, and turned to pull it shut behind her. For a moment she caught the eye of the doorman. Maybe there was a little sorrow in that face.

The people going about their normal business parted for her as usual, but seemed surprised how slowly she was walking, and people bumped into her occasionally as she stumbled slowly down the road, trying as hard as she could to keep the tears away.
She wondered what Ed had done to Karl. Where would he be now? Had he been injured? Because of her? She desperately wanted to know, but who could she ask?
When she got home, their butler James saw her and opened the door quickly and ushered her in.
“Your mother was worried, my lady.”
The door clicked shut behind her, and that was enough. Louisa collapsed onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. James at first leaned down to hold her shoulders, but Louisa reacted fiercely to that and batted him away, screaming something – she didn’t know what. He stood up and walked off.
A few moments later Louisa heard running footsteps, and the comforting voice of her mother, leaning down.
“Louisa dearest, what on earth has happened to you?”
She shook and cried again, and couldn’t find words through the choking in her throat. She grabbed her mother and held her.
Louisa heard people coming and going, occasionally giving a shocked gasp, but stayed sitting on the floor next to her mother until finally the tears stopped, and she allowed her mother to help her to her feet and lead her into the sitting room, where they sat on two large armchairs next to each other. Louisa kept hold of her mother’s hand.
“James, a brandy if you please.”
James appeared from behind the door and poured a large brandy, offering it to Louisa. She took it and sipped it. She didn’t like brandy, and found it made her start crying again. She put it on the table next to her.
“Thank you,” she said, forcing the words out of her dry throat.
James nodded and disappeared again.
Margaret squeezed her daughter’s hand gently. “Please, my darling, try to tell me what has happened. Has someone hurt you?”
Louisa looked at her mother and burst into tears once again, but this time was able to speak a little. “It’s Ed,” she said. “He attacked me.”
“The prince? Attacking you? Are you sure?”
Louisa was so stunned by that she stopped crying for a second, not believing her own mother could ask that.
“Am I sure? He raped me, mother. He pinned me down and fucked me.”
Margaret drew her hand back, shocked.
Louisa wiped her eyes on her sleeve and took another swig of the brandy.
“Tell me, mother dear. Are you more shocked that I used that word or that Ed did it to me?” She wanted to cause pain. She wanted to get back at the world, even if that was her mother.
Margaret took a deep breath. “In the circumstances,” she began, and thought better of whatever she had been about to say. She reached her hand forward again to hold Louisa’s, but Louisa felt not quite as comforted as before.
Every few moments Margaret looked like she was about to say something, but changed her mind, until finally Louisa, having finished her brandy, broke the silence.
“I need another one,” she said, holding out her glass.
This time Margaret got up and fetched the decanter, pouring herself a small brandy, and a slightly larger glass for her daughter.
There they sat for much of the morning, until the doorbell rang.
James walked in a short while later.
“A master Spencer to see the lady Louisa. Should I send him away?”
Karl. Louisa’s body trembled again wondering what was happening. “No, please. Send him in.”
“Are you sure, dear?”
“Yes of course I’m sure,” Louisa snapped.
“Very good, my lady.”
Karl walked into the room. Louisa expected him to take one look at her and run over to comfort her. She began crying again at the memory of what last night was supposed to have been, and the fact that it had only been last night. It already seemed a horrible memory, something which had to be separated by an age. Last night.
Karl remained standing a little way away. He didn’t come over.
Louisa looked up at him, quizzically. “Karl? What are you doing?” She almost asked what was wrong. What was wrong with him? Nothing was obviously wrong with him. He hadn’t been beaten or anything. What had happened to him last night?
“I felt I should come in person to say this,” he began.
Louisa made a noise she didn’t think a human could make – a loud wailing sound, going on for longer than she thought possible. When she finally stopped and dragged in a croaky breath, she screamed at him. “You bastard! This happened to me and you’re going to abandon me! I was going to marry you. I love you! I loved you! And when I need you more than ever you come here to tell me what? What exactly?”
Karl had the decency to look embarrassed at least, she thought. He looked at the ground and shuffled his feet. “I can’t honour that understanding, I’m afraid. Not after…”
Louisa drew herself into a slightly more upright position, her head swaying a little like a cobra examining its prey, or a drunk trying to steady himself for an attempt at a door. “Karl Spencer. You are no longer my guest in this house, and I would like you to leave.”
He opened his mouth, and shut it again after failing to find words. He turned and walked out.
Louisa waited for the front door to shut before howling with tears again.

Louisa woke up, for a brief and wonderful moment not remembering. As it flooded back, she tried so hard not to curl up and cry, but failed. She closed her eyes and willed herself just not to exist, to be gone from the world, not talked about, not remembered, not ever having existed. Her mother downstairs would not even know there had been a daughter. Lord and Lady Forest would simply grow old and some other random aristocrat would take over their property when they died, presumably enjoying the fine portrait collection they had built up, and times would move on.
Whereas now, what would happen?
Louisa stared at the ceiling, not blinking for so long her eyes hurt, then not blinking for longer, enjoying the hurt, enjoying a tiny bit of control over the world. She rolled over again and curled up again, then got up, grabbed a pair of shoes, and repeatedly smashed them against the bed. For a while it made what she felt was a great noise, but as no one came to see it can’t have been that great, and after a few attempts to destroy the bed she collapsed forwards again and began crying.
This was her life now. Crying. Hiding.
A knock on the door brought her back to the world, and she shouted assent for someone to come in.
It was Margaret, carrying a tray of toast and jam, and tea.
Tea.
Louisa wanted to scream, wanted to grab the teapot and hurl it across the room, to throw the cup and saucer against a wall, smash the tray against everything delicate in her room and slash the knife up and down herself. She felt her hands turn to fists, and inside everything curled up and her face tightened. Could this ever stop?
Her mother put the tray down, and sat on the side of her bed. The side away from her.
Louisa looked over and felt so alone, more alone than when she had been, a few moments before.
She looked away from her mother, and curled up on the bed again. “It was going to be so special.”
“What was?”
“Karl. That night. It was going to be special, and it was going to be on top of the tower, a place I had always dreamed of, loved, dreamed of living. It was my special place in all the world. From there anything is possible. You can see everything.”
“Oh.”
She had said ‘oh’.
Louisa sighed.
“I told Ed I didn’t love him, and he wanted to marry me and I told him no, and he got angry.” It had started now, and Louisa realised she had to finish. Her mother started to say something, but she interrupted. “No, don’t talk. I’m saying. I love Karl. I loved Karl. I hate Karl. But I loved him, and I thought he loved me, and we agreed to meet at the tower, and tomorrow… today… I don’t know… we were going to tell people. We were going to have one night, one secret wonderful night, under the stars, in love and in secret, and then everything would be out in the open and we would be happy.” She rolled over again to look at her mother. “And now this.”
Margaret looked close to tears as well.

Louisa remained in her room that day, and the next one.
On the fourth day Margaret brought her breakfast as before, and sat on the edge of the bed while Louisa picked at the toast, sipped a few sips of tea, and pushed the crockery around the tray.
“I called for the doctor,” said Margaret, after a few minutes.
Louisa stopped shuffling crockery, looked at her mother for a moment, and burst into tears again.
“I can cancel his call,” she said.
“No,” said Louisa, managing to control the tears a little better today than yesterday. “I can’t put it off forever.”
“You won’t know yet, of course.”
Louisa shook her head.
“Do you think you will be able to get out of bed today?”
Louisa looked out of the window for a little while. “I’ll try,” she said.
In truth she felt she wanted to, but felt afraid. She had hardly slept, but it wasn’t down to nightmares. She just felt disorientated all the time, and kept waking up every few minutes.
Her mother left her for a while, and she swung her legs out of bed and stood, feeling her weak legs under her and staggering slightly as she made her way to her wardrobe.
The dress she’d had that night was hanging, carefully put away, exactly where it would normally have been, when things were normal.  The maid had carried out her normal duties, as normal. It made Louisa want to cry again, but she shook her head at herself, knowing she couldn’t go through the rest of her life crying at everything. She had to stop. She had to find a way.
She reached and grabbed clothes that looked as plain as any she owned, and laid them out on the bed, then sat down again and stared into space, feeling she’d done enough for now.
The doctor arrived while she was still sat there, still in her nightgown. Her mother knocked on the door but didn’t wait for a reply, and the doctor followed after her mother nodded.
“Good morning, Louisa,” he said.
Doctor Grey. He’d delivered her, and had been a regular during her childhood, attending a few dinners at the house over the years. She didn’t want him to know, but presumably mother had already told him. Louisa felt herself slipping back away from her body, trying to pretend this wasn’t her. She nodded to his questions, and let him examine her, and lay staring out into the distance, not feeling anything. Someone else was down there, being examined. Someone else was in pain as he poked fingers around. Someone else could cry. Someone else was told she could lower her gown again, and someone else did so.
Doctor Grey walked a little way away and spoke to Margaret in a hushed voice. Only a few words made it through the haze. Bleeding. Damage. Time. Louisa’s eyes flicked over to the two, both looking back at her, and felt she should be more involved, but couldn’t bring herself closer. She looked over at her clothing, and decided now was as good as any time to get dressed, so she grabbed some underwear from the drawer and began putting it on. There was a shocked voice from somewhere, and people left the room. The door shut.
She got dressed and left the room, walking unsteadily downstairs.
The doctor was still in the drawing room when she arrived. She half-curtseyed to him, but felt wobbly and grabbed the door. He rushed over and led her across the room to a chair, and she sat down with as much decorum as she could muster. She didn’t retain her normal posture, though – instead she slumped back into the chair.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Are you sure you should be up?” He felt her forehead. “You don’t feel feverish, but after the shock you’ve had…”
“I can’t remain in bed forever, Doctor Grey.”
“No, but maybe…”
The doctor stepped back away and sat down again where he had been when Louisa had arrived.
Louisa. She was Louisa. She shook her head and tried to snap back to the here and now. “Could I have a brandy, please?”
The doctor looked at Margaret, and then got up and poured a small glass, which Louisa took a small drink out of before placing it on her usual side-table. She did feel better for it – it bit through her throat, and perhaps the pain was good. Pain somewhere else. Different pain.
She took a few deep breaths and made an effort to focus, managing to get a clear picture of the doctor’s face for the first time. He looked so worried, so upset. Louisa looked at her mother as well, and her face was the same.
She took one more sip of brandy. For some reason it seemed important to try to make them less worried. “I feel a little better today, I think.”
Doctor Grey looked doubtful, but said nothing. Margaret shook her head. “You take whatever time you need, my darling. You’ve had a terrible experience.”
Louisa found herself returning to the world more as she understood her mother. “Terrible experience?”
“Yes, my dear. It must have been awful. We may need time to get through this.”
“You’re saying it like it was a distant thing, a terrible accident. I was attacked, mother. That man raped me.”
The doctor and Margaret looked at each other, and obviously decided not to reply.
Louisa took another drink, and drew herself up to her correct posture, trying to return that element of her life to normality, if she couldn’t return anything else.
“Do I need to know anything, doctor?”
The doctor looked puzzled.
“Is anything permanently damaged? Since we’re being so circumspect.”
“I believe you will make a full recovery.” He coughed, as if he’d been about to say something more, and he turned to look at Margaret again.
Louisa picked up on the look going back and forth. “Physically, at least, you mean.”
The doctor looked worried again. “I don’t think we…”
A piece of Louisa’s mind seemed to be working as it had always done, and that piece suggested what was going on. Louisa herself listened as the internal dialogue occurred, and then waited for a short time, digesting the information. No one else had spoken. She turned to her mother as calmly as she could, saying words with as little emotion as she could manage. This was to be a statement of fact, not a plea. “Mother, I am going to tell you now I will not forgive you if you try to put me in a sanatorium. Even for a short period of time. I am telling you that now, in front of Doctor Grey, in full possession of my senses.”
“We haven’t even…” began Margaret.
“I am no fool, mother. I have heard of it happening. It takes away any scandal. But I have seen those places…”
“When? How would you?”
Louisa looked straight at her mother, realising she had the upper hand in some tiny thing for the first time since feeling so alive on the tower, a lifetime ago. “Karl took me when I asked. He said one of his sisters had admitted herself to one. I found that unlikely and looked into it some more.”
“How would you know anything about…?”
“Because I asked, mother.” She sounded so cold. She meant to. “I went back later and asked, and checked how long she had been there, and why she was there. She was drugged so much she couldn’t even speak. I wanted to help her, maybe even find a way to get her out. I thought it was what Karl wanted too, but I don’t think I knew him at all.”
“I don’t think in your state you are in any fit condition to worry about other people,” said Doctor Grey.
“Perhaps not immediately,” Louisa accepted. “But perhaps worrying about someone else will put my own troubles to one side for a while.”
The exchange had done her good, and she was feeling taller. She felt the room was stuffy, though. And hot, too.
“I have said my piece. If you will excuse me, I think a short walk in the park might do me good.”
The doctor stood suddenly, and Margaret followed suit. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“Follow me if you like,” she said, and walked, far more surely, out of the room.
James was waiting by the front door. It was a pleasant day, not too hot, as Louisa emerged from her house into the full glare of the day. She stepped gracefully down to the pavement and turned, heading towards the park for a short turn before returning. A short walk would be enough of a diversion, perhaps, to get her head in order. She was pleased to have returned to the thought of Karl’s sister, even though the thought was tainted by Karl’s presence alongside it.
As she walked, she began noticing faces in front of her in a way she hadn’t normally. They were looking at her, leaning towards each other. Some of them were grinning to each other. Some seemed to look shocked at her being there. One man bumped against her, and she felt maybe a hand briefly on her waist. Two more stopped as she approached and turned the other way.
The voices felt louder as she continued, and closer. More people seemed to be touching her, bumping into her, as the voices grew ever louder, and more and more people were staring directly at her. They all knew. Every last one of them somehow knew, or those who didn’t were being told by those who did. They were muttering, mentioning it, laughing at it, shocked that she existed. She looked round feeling more and more faces, closer and closer, louder and louder, bigger and bigger. One man appeared right in front of her, staring at her, his face twisted into laughter. She pushed away from him and found two women looking stunned, staring, talking… She stumbled sideways into a doorway to escape, and sat down facing the door, her hands up by her ears to shield herself.
A screeching of brakes behind her made her remember the carriage of that day, and she turned suddenly, expecting to see that same carriage, with that same coat of arms on the side. That coat of arms. She knew it had been there, but hadn’t noticed at the time. She saw it clearly now, in her memory.
There was something on the side of this carriage too, but she couldn’t make it out through the shouting faces all over the street. A man was standing in front of her, looming over her. She pushed her feet to try to scramble back. A voice came through the mist.
“Miss Forest,” came the voice. “Do you need any help?”
The voice was familiar. She stared up and tried to make the face shrink back from her, to make it normal sized again. Sir John’s face loomed at her, a distant cousin she had seen many times, but not often spoken to. He was standing a discrete distance away, and not looming after all. She looked him up and down, and he didn’t seem threatening, but then maybe nor had…
John reached a hand out, but made no move to come closer to her. She let her own arm drift up and meet his, and he gently pulled her to her feet. She fell forwards into his arms. He patted her back softly for a few moments, and then pushed her slightly away.
Louisa looked round again, seeing the faces again, and hearing the muttering growing stronger.
“My carriage, perhaps?” said John, leading her through the throng back to the open door of his carriage. She stepped up into the dark interior, and he pulled the door shut. Louisa began to panic, and pulled back into the opposite corner, wondering if she could get to the door in time. John sat down and made no move towards her. Louisa looked back at the door and noted where the handle was, but as John made no sudden move the fear faded slightly.
“Thank you,” she said, as the carriage began moving.
“I will take you home.”
“No!” John looked shocked as Louisa shouted. She had shocked herself. “At least not quite yet. Please, drive for a while. At least if you’re not busy.”
He smiled. “No, of course not.” He clicked with a cane against the roof. “Drive round the park, please.”
Louisa managed almost a smile. “Thank you again.”
John nodded, and looked around the carriage, waiting for Louisa to speak again.
“I am sorry,” she said again, after a few minutes.
“You have no reason to be. A bad turn, that’s all. Maybe something you ate.”
“I’ve hardly eaten.”
“There you are then. You have to keep your strength up.”
“You don’t know?”
“Don’t know what?”
Louisa looked into John’s eyes in a way he found quite disturbing, as if she was able to see the inside of his head. She didn’t trust that he didn’t know, but felt it was true. She thought for a few moments.
“Do you know much gossip?”
He laughed. “Not a great deal, I would say. I hear my sisters, though, and they say all manner of strange things. The last rumour I heard regarding you was that Prince Edward himself was fond of you, but I thought that was old news. Is that what you’re referring to?”
Louisa shuddered. Even his name had power over her.
“I am not… fond… of him,” she said, looking down at the floor. And he is most definitely not fond of me. Fond. Even the word sounded wrong. Fond fond fond. Like frond. A biological name. Not a warm thing, a nice thing. Fond.
“Oh, I am sorry. I had thought…”
She looked up at him and he became instantly silent. Her eyes were filled with rage, and he looked terrified, but still didn’t move. He stayed quiet.
Louisa studied him as the carriage juddered over some small hole. He could have dived forward as they were unbalanced, but hadn’t. He thought she would be fond of Ed.  She shut her eyes for a second and reopened them to find John sitting in exactly the same pose, still looking terrified.
On the second look it felt different, though. John was not a threat. Although…
Louisa took a deep breath.
“He attacked me,” she said. “Raped me.” She hadn’t thought about saying it, but it came out. It had to come out. He would know eventually. Everyone knew. Everyone would gossip. It made sense to say, but that’s not why she had. She had to tell him. Had to say it. She couldn’t deny it had happened, or it would fester. It had to be gouged out with a knife.
John changed from terrified to shocked. He looked away for a moment, then back at Louisa, and his face became a mix of everything from disbelief to hate.
He was very quiet when he spoke again. “Raped?”
Louisa nodded, aware that she had returned to staring straight at his face unwaveringly, making sure she gathered every ounce of information from it.
“Prince Edward?”
Louisa nodded again.
“Raped you?”
Louisa simply stared this time. The next few seconds would decide whether she would hate this man for the rest of his life. It was an odd thing to feel, but she felt it. This was his moment to react. She waited.
“I…” He stopped. He looked around the carriage. He looked at her. He looked down.
She still waited. The carriage turned a corner and John had to grab the door handle to steady himself. Louisa stared at him. John looked up, seemingly unwillingly, and caught her eyes. He found he couldn’t look away again.
“I don’t know what to say,” he said. “What can I say?”
She didn’t take her eyes off his. “You can say you believe me.”
John looked stunned, and his head drew back slightly. “What? Why would you make that up?”
“I’m talking about the Prince, here. How many people would believe me? Even my mother didn’t want to.”
John’s mouth turned down, as if he’d just tasted something sour. “Miss Forest, I’ve known you almost all your life. I have never known you to be anything other than a perfect lady.”
Louisa’s mind flashed back to the moments before her life changed, and realised how wrong John was, at least that night. How would he have been scandalised if the evening had gone as she had planned? Would he still respect her? She wanted to say she’d done nothing wrong, but suddenly felt like she had, that she was at fault. The tears came, and for all her efforts to look in control, she collapsed again.
John steered her back onto her seat, and laid a hand on her shoulder, but his hand merely rested on her. He didn’t move it, or press down hard. She shut her eyes and hated herself, wanting to disappear through a hole in the carriage, for them to reach their destination, for this all to stop, but it didn’t. The carriage kept going, occasionally bumping over some unseen imperfection in the road, occasionally steering one way or another, and Louisa kept her eyes shut, hoping that somehow this would just not be. That the world would collapse, or she would simply cease.
John tapped lightly on her shoulder. “We are at your house, Miss Forest. Should I get the driver to continue, or do you want to return home?”
Louisa let out a shriek of pain, and turned, her knees now on the ground and her head and arms on the seat. She wailed, eyes still shut. John hit the roof again with his stick. The carriage started off again.
“My dear dear Miss Forest.” He moved a hand as if to stroke her hair, but thought better of it and returned his hand. He put the hand back down by his side, and looked away. 
Louisa ran out of crying over the next circumnavigation of the park, and finally looked up at John, eyes and face red and puffy. He looked down kindly, but obviously scared of not knowing what to do. She tried to smile, but felt it made her face even worse.
“What am I going to do?” she cried to him.
He thought for a while before he answered. “Survive?”
“Survive?”
“I thought about saying ‘get better,’ but how can I know if that’s even possible. Sorry. I don’t know. I don’t know what you can do, and I don’t know what you’re going through, and I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t know much, it seems. And I’m sorry about that. But I do know that you were always one of the people I admired most in this world. You had… you have… I don’t know that either, but I know you had such a joy in your life… Such a way of looking at the world as if it was a fine meal, to be savoured and relished… I have always admired your way of life, Miss Forest. I have always thought that of the people in the world I would most like to spend an hour in a carriage with, you were at the top of the list. And finally I get my wish, and it is the most awful time imaginable. So I have no idea what to say to you, but perhaps if you simply live, somehow things will not be so wretched in the days to come.”
Louisa wiped her face with her sleeve. “That’s your encouragement?”
John half-smiled, and nodded.
“I’d hate to see you unenthusiastic.”
And she laughed. Not a proper laugh, not a happy laugh, but a slight laugh. A slight glimmer of hope. A tiny crack appeared in the darkness surrounding her.
John smiled in a way he hadn’t imagined he could, and this time did reach a hand down and stroked her hair once, before realising what he was doing and withdrawing it again.
Louisa pulled herself back up to her seat. She smoothed her dress down, and shut her eyes again, taking a few deep breaths.
“I am so sorry, John.”
“Miss Forest, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry about.”
“Louisa. How long have we known each other?”
“Are you sure?”
She sighed, and nodded. “Of course I’m sure. I don’t know what the future holds, John, but I know one thing. You have told me the most important word I have ever heard, and I am going to try to live by what you’ve told me.”
“What was that?”
“Survive. That’s it. Survive. If I can do that today, I can do it tomorrow. And if I can do it tomorrow, I can do it the next day. I don’t know when I’ll need you again, John, but I needed you today.”
“Telegram, and I will drop everything, Miss… Louisa.”
“I believe you will. And I mean that, John. I will call on you, and I may need you, and I may be a wreck on your carriage floor, and I’m sorry…”
“I already said…”
“Yes, you said. But this is not how things are supposed to be. In my mother’s time it would have been a scandal me even being in here unaccompanied, let alone crying on your floor.” She reached out a hand and picked up his hand, and held it for a few seconds before releasing it again. “I needed you today, John. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been passing by.”
John cocked his head to one side. “You’re welcome.”
“Are we nearly home again?”
“Not far off. A few minutes.”
“I thanked you too soon, it seems.” She smiled again, awkwardly. “Now what do I say?”
“Do you know how many times I’ve said ‘I don’t know’ since you got into this carriage?”
“Ooh, maybe a hundred?”
“Something like that. Louisa?”
“Yes?”
John this time shut his eyes, and shook his head slightly. “No. You are nearly home. Do you want me to accompany you in?”
Louisa listened to the carriage wheels clattering, listened to the sounds outside, the muffled sounds of people, and the world reappeared in her mind again, closing in. It felt oppressive, as if they might attack the coach, ripping the sides off and grabbing her. As if there was a crowd outside, desperate for a victim. She started breathing more heavily, started shivering. She opened her eyes and stared hard at a fleck of dust hanging in the air, and deliberately breathed in hard, and breathed out hard.
“No,” she said, finally. “I have to do this.”
John said nothing, but when Louisa glanced at him she felt that he was thinking the one word. Survive. He wasn’t smiling, but his eyebrows had edged up in the middle so he looked a little bit sad, but only a little. The carriage stopped, and John leaned forward, opened the door and stepped out, somehow in the process leaving a hand stationary awaiting Louisa.
She crouched in the carriage and stepped onto the top step, laying her hand gently, appropriately, on John’s. She took the next two steps slowly and carefully, and then turned to him. “I have said it, but I have to say it one more time. Thank you.”
He nodded, slightly formally, but said nothing.
She turned and paused for a second before starting the walk back to the house. She didn’t know what her face looked like – would they know what had happened? Would they know how much she’d been crying? Louisa walked up to the front door, and James opened it, and stood aside, as he had so many times before. Louisa wanted to hug him.

She walked straight along through the hallway and began climbing the stairs. She wanted to get to her room and take a closer look at her eyes, to see how obvious it was that something had happened, but her mother appeared at a door below.
Her mother asked “Where have you been?”
“I needed time to think.”
“About what?”
Louisa had tried to remain looking forward, but she really couldn’t believe her mother had asked that. She turned. “About what? What do you think?”
“You need to be careful, Louisa.” It was odd that her mother used her name rather than ‘dear’ or ‘darling’. It felt wrong.
“How do you mean?”
“You need to think before making any accusations. That’s all.”
Louisa turned and continued up the stairs. Her mother said something behind her, but she didn’t even hear what it was.
She got back to her room and went over to the mirror, seeing a red face with red eyes poking out from the middle of it. She looked horrible. Louisa poured a few handfuls of water into her washbowl and began dabbing her face with her cloth. It felt comforting. She stared at herself in the mirror as her face slowly returned to its normal colour, but by no means its normal smile. She did manage a short smile as she thought about John, but for all his offers she knew she’d struggle to speak to him again – it would be too embarrassing.
Instead she began thinking about what her mother had said, and immediately saw the red return to her cheeks, but this time in anger. Was her mother really suggesting she say nothing to anyone? She wasn’t about to broadcast what had happened, assuming people didn’t know already, but someone surely had to know? Surely someone could help her?
As she thought that through, she immediately ran out of options.  A magistrate wouldn’t be interested – how could they even go about prosecuting the Prince? Only the King himself could do anything, and what was the chance he would believe her rather than his own son?
Louisa sat down on the bed and stared at the floor, hearing a gentle tick tick from her clock. Her mind focused on it, concentrating on nothing else, until slowly all thought drained from her and she was calm for the first time in days. The ticking continued, and she remained, sitting upright on the edge of her bed, head slightly turned down, the world becoming fuzzy as her eyes lost focus and made shapes hazier at first, and then totally indistinct.
The bell ringing for supper brought her out of the trance. Louisa felt amazingly rested, as if a terrible spiral in her head had been broken.
She stood up and walked downstairs, trying to preserve the emptiness for as long as she could, simply existing in the world, moving through it, almost floating down the stairs.
Her mother was already seated at the table, but there was no one else present. Louisa sat in her usual place, easing herself gently down. She looked up at Margaret, and smiled politely.
Her mother nodded, and rang the small bell she had by her right hand.
James appeared a few moments later, with two maids following behind holding trays.
Louisa watched the serving process: the trays being put on the table, the plates being uncovered and moved, some vegetables being added to them. She wasn’t really there. Somehow disconnected from the proceedings, someone else picking up cutlery and feeding her, delicately prising apart small pieces of the duck and placing them in her mouth. They didn’t taste of anything, but she chewed and swallowed them anyway. A small glass of wine appeared by her, and she drank half of it over the meal.
Her mother did not speak, but Louisa was occasionally aware of being stared at. She didn’t mind. Not now. She had some calm, and she wanted to hold onto it for as long as possible.
When the meal was finished, including a small plate of cheese and biscuits, Louisa dabbed her mouth and looked up at her mother.
“If you don’t mind, mother, I shall go to bed early. I feel very tired.”
“Of course, my dear.” Back to ‘my dear’. Why Louisa earlier? It troubled her, but only in a vague abstract way.
Louisa retired upstairs, and sat on her bed for a while, listening once again to the ticking of the clock, and again letting her mind empty of any thoughts. It was peaceful and calm, and Louisa sat there until she arose from her reverie and decided it was time to exchange meditation with sleep.

The next day Louisa felt more positive. She had slept genuinely well, and the combination of John’s memory coming to her in the night and having managed to find calm had made her feel that there was something to life. Survive, he had said. She might just about be able to do that.
She got dressed, ignoring that dress in the wardrobe, and went down for what turned out to be a late breakfast, with only her hard-boiled egg and slice of toast left on the sideboard.
Before she had even finished them there was a knock on the door. James entered.
“Miss Forest, there is a visitor for you.”
Louisa’s heart leapt, thinking it would be John, and then stopped herself. She’d known him for years, and never felt anything for him in that time, and throwing herself at someone because she’d been hurt was idiotic. Even assuming he felt anything…
She heard her mother’s voice in the hall. “Your highness,” she said, rather loudly. “What a pleasure. Please, will you wait in the lounge? I am sure my daughter won’t delay you.”
Louisa looked up at James. “What? Ed?”
“The Prince Edward is your visitor, yes.”
“Why?”
“I am afraid he did not say.”
Margaret appeared at the door. “Come on, Louisa. Come through.”
“But it’s him.”
“In our house!”
“Mother? Do you realise what you’re saying?”
“Of course I do. The Prince is in our house. People will have seen the carriage outside.”
“I am going upstairs.”
Margaret stood between Louisa and the stairs. “You are not, and if you want I will drag you in there myself. Will that make you look any better? That’s the Prince in there!”
Louisa stared into her eyes, and realised both that she wasn’t joking and that she suddenly didn’t know her mother at all. Or at least her mother didn’t know her. Or possibly both.
Louisa turned and walked to the lounge. Margaret followed her, and Louisa could almost feel the proud grin behind her.
When they arrived in the lounge, Louisa looked at Ed for the first time since that night.
There had been a time when she had been best friends with that man sitting there. That man who didn’t even deign to look at her. They had kissed as children, wondering what the grown-ups were doing. Years had passed before they kissed again, and by then Louisa at least knew what a real kiss was like. When she had left the palace she had assumed he was hurt, but that he would be the gentleman his position made him out to be. She knew better now.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, dispensing with any honorifics.
Ed finally flicked his eyes round and looked at her, a slight turn-up at the end of his mouth hiding a larger sneer he was presumably feeling. He waved a hand dismissively towards a chair. Louisa did not move.
“As you wish,” he said. “Lady Forest,” he added, leaning to speak to Margaret, who had followed in behind Louisa. “If you don’t mind, I have to speak to your daughter alone.”
Margaret curtseyed and back out of the room, muttering “of course” in a voice Louisa found pathetic.
The door shut, and Louisa’s heart began racing, but not with any agreeable feeling. It was definitely fear, and she clasped her hands to her sides to try to make sure Ed didn’t notice it.
“What are you doing here?” she asked again.
He waved a hand at her. “My father wants an heir. You may be pregnant. If you are, it would suit us both. If you aren’t, you’re young and pretty enough, and would become so.”
Louisa moved her hands in front of her and placed them together. The time moving them gave her head a little while to register what had just been said. Was he actually asking her to marry him? After what he had done? Was he making it sound like a favour?
“You should really think about it, Louisa. After all, who else would have you now?”
Her eyes widened. She was losing control, and she knew it. Thoughts came into her head unbidden, thick and fast. She could grab the clock and throw it at his head. There were pokers in the fire – she could stab him with those. She could smash the decanter on him. She could grab the paper knife from the writing desk to the side and stab him with it. She imagined doing that, stabbing him over and over. While her mind was busy stabbing she stood stock-still. She had to stand still, perfectly still. She remembered the cook carrying a large pot of jam once, a bit close to the top. “Keep steady,” she had been saying to herself as she carried it. “You’ve got to keep balanced.”
Louisa did not speak. She didn’t trust her voice. She looked at the pathetic man sitting on the chair in front of her, smiling quietly to himself, looking into the fire. She turned very slowly, very precisely, and walked to the door.
“You will not turn your back on me.”
Louisa opened the door, half-expecting to be dragged back into the room. This time there would be a fight. This time her mind would be let free to grab the poker, to grab the decanter, to stab with the knife. This time, she thought, but before the thoughts finished she was outside the door.
Her mother was standing in the hall, looking expectant.
Louisa looked at her, and realised the pity now extended beyond that awful man inside the lounge. She walked on, blood pulsing in her head, feeling like it would burst. There was noise beside her and behind her, but she walked onwards, concentrating on every footstep, concentrating on keeping upright. She walked slowly up the stairs, and into her room. She turned, ever so slowly, and shut the door behind her.
Only then did she let poise go, and a scream escaped from her.

There was a knock on the door, and her mother’s voice beyond.
“Louisa, my dear. Will you open the door please?”
Louisa rolled over and got onto her knees.
The door opened, and her mother stepped inside.
“Has he gone?” asked Louisa.
“Yes, but he wasn’t happy.”
She looked up at her mother once more, still not believing. “He? He wasn’t happy?”
“He would like an answer. He told me that he offered to marry you.”
Louisa scrambled backwards and onto the bed. “You do remember he raped me?”
“Is it not possible it was just frightening for you? It’s so easy to get hysterical.”
“Mother, why are you doing this?”
“He’s the Prince, my darling.”
“But he raped me. I hate him.”
“You don’t have to love a prince. Give him a couple of children and you’ll be in luxury the rest of your life.”
“Did you miss what I said? He raped me.”
“And that’s going to make it pretty hard finding someone else, especially if it turns out you are pregnant.”
“Mother? How can you say this?”
“You had a difference of opinion, but you can’t win this fight. Get what you can get, and make the best of your life. If you…”
Louisa screamed. She screamed so loudly her own ears hurt with it. She gasped for breath and screamed again, and again. She couldn’t stop. Just screaming and screaming and screaming. Margaret moved forwards and started to grab hold of Louisa’s shoulders, but thought better of it. She drew her hand back, as if to slap Louisa, but didn’t do that either. After a few more screams she walked out of the room and shut the door behind her.
Louisa finally stopped, and realised she was back to crying again.
She tried to home in on the ticking of the clock, but this time it wouldn’t come to her aid. This time the images of Ed sitting arrogantly on the chair, expecting her to bow to him, and even her own mother expecting that accepting a cruel hateful man was better than any other life she could ever have…
She fell backwards into bed and sobbed.

Louisa awoke wearing the same clothes, now horribly creased. It was dark out, and there seemed to be no sound. She stared at the clock, trying to make out the time. It was nearly three in the morning.
She stood up and went to the window and looked out, past her small balcony. She looked back at the main house. Although quiet, someone would still probably hear her escaping that way. She opened the French windows and stepped outside. It was warm. It felt warm like that night. It was very slightly windy. She looked over the balcony and wondered what would happen if she just jumped. It probably wasn’t far enough to kill her outright. She’d probably just break her legs. Louisa sighed, and turned to go back in, but as she turned she noticed the roof of the coal cellar, just a few feet to the side of her window, a few feet below. Could she jump to it?
She climbed onto the side wall of the balcony and put her feet down in the gaps, holding onto the wall behind her. She squatted down a little, and began shaking as she tried to convince herself she could make it. It was only a few feet, after all. Of course she could make it. But she never had. If she fell she could break her legs. Or worse, her back. She could die, maybe, if she landed badly enough. For some reason that thought didn’t worry her. Maybe she ought to climb higher, and then jump?
Three.
Two.
One.
She jumped, shocking herself as she realised she was mid-flight. The jump seemed to take forever, with her taking in each movement, trying to work out whether she’d make it, right up until she slammed full-frontal into the roof and slid a little down, before plopping off sideways onto the ground into a bush.
She had scratches everywhere, and her clothes were badly ripped, but as she moved her arms and legs to test them, nothing was broken. That was something at least.
Now what?
Louisa hadn’t thought about anything beyond escaping her room, but began walking round the building anyway, heading for the side passage and the street. The side gate would be bolted, of course, but from the inside, so she could make her escape that way.
She walked out onto the street and hurried far enough along the road so that when she looked back she couldn’t see her own house’s windows any more, and felt a relief. That relief quickly dissolved as she thought about what she would do. The tower and rock loomed up ahead of her, and she began idly walking towards that, not planning or thinking, but somehow drawn to it.
The night was clear, and the stars looked beautiful, but now the moon was waning. Not quite as perfect as that night.
When reached the tower, she tilted her head to try to see the top, and looked around. A few carriages clattered here and there, and some people were already rousing. Two bakers were visible preparing dough inside their shops, side by side. Louisa stopped for a while and watched them, folding and refolding the large balls, almost in time with one another. It was hypnotic.
She turned and headed away from the tower again, this time for a little while towards the palace, but the moment she caught sight of it she changed direction once more, unaware of where she was walking, simply wanting to keep moving.
As the sun came up she began noticing people staring at her again, and the streets began feeling crowded, even though only a few people were about. She ducked into a side street to calm down, before venturing back out for a few blocks, repeating the escape every few minutes. Only after three such moments of relief did she realise where she had walked.
With some surprise she was standing now outside Sir John’s house, a modest townhouse, but certainly ample for him living alone, assuming he still was. The blood drained from her face as she asked herself that question, but surely she would have heard. Surely there couldn’t be a Mrs Cunningham without Louisa having heard about it, or even invited? Unless it had been secret, of course.
But why should it matter? This was not the time to do anything stupid. Or desperate.
She was still staring at the house when the door opened.
“I thought I saw you standing out there,” said the voice. Louisa’s eyes didn’t waver from the middle of the house. She wondered if she didn’t move maybe he would think he was imagining things and go back inside. She felt aware of the rips in her clothing. “What on earth are you doing here? Hang on, let me get a shawl.”
Why would he have a shawl? Who would he have a shawl for? Louisa wanted to run, but John was outside again within moments, and crossed the street quickly and wrapped the shawl round her. It did feel warm.
“Come in, please. I’ve got a pot of tea just brewed.”
Louisa allowed herself to be led across the street and up the front steps, and found herself sitting in John’s breakfast room, a smallish room with just enough space for a six-seat table and a sideboard, currently empty. There were two slices of bread and cheese on a plate on the table, alongside a pot of tea and one cup and saucer.
John reached down and opened one of the doors of the sideboard and brought out another cup and saucer, and placed it, slightly heavily so it clinked, in front of Louisa.
“Shall I?” he asked.
Louisa nodded.
John poured a spot of milk into the cup, placed the strainer over the cup, and poured slowly.
“Sugar?”
“No thank you.”
He repeated the process to top-up his own cup, and sat down in the seat next to Louisa. She looked down at the cup, slightly steaming in front of her. It looked good. She realised she was hungry.
She heard him sipping, very quietly, but kept staring.
“What has happened?” he asked, and then added: “I mean… Has anything else happened? What brings you here so early in the morning?”
Louisa turned to him and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said, trying not to cry this time. She had cried so much.
He placed a hand on her shoulder, and it was such a relief that now there was no holding back. She burst into sobbing once again, hating herself for it even as she did so.
John waited patiently for her to stop, not even sipping his tea while he waited. Eventually she did, and turned to have a sip of her own before trying to speak. It was still hot enough to burn her throat slightly as she drank it.
“Mother wants me to marry Ed.”
John let his hand drop, and looked away. “Oh.”
“Oh? Is that it?”
“What else is there for me to say? I could say that’s awful, but in the end there are two choices. You marry the man who raped you,” he said, and Louisa was so glad he had not added ‘you say’ in that sentence, “or you defy your mother. Neither are good, but I’d say the latter is by far the least bad.”
“How could she want me to spend my life with a man like that?”
“Your mother married… Sorry to say, but since we’re being honest... Your mother married up, as the saying goes. As I understand it, she couldn’t stand your father, but her own father was quite a successful artisan of some kind. From the provinces. He met your mother when taking some orders early on in his career, and she did all the pursuing, by all accounts. She wanted to escape her upbringing, and she managed. I presume she thinks that’s what you would do if given a sniff of royalty.”
“That’s horrible.”
“Well, she was fortunate, if you want to look at it that way, in that he didn’t survive all that long, so she didn’t have to put up with him.”
“What happened to him?”
“His horse bolted when a gun went off nearby and he was killed. He left a modest fortune; at least enough to keep you and your mother in that house.”
“Did you know my father?”
John laughed. “I’m not that much older than you, you know. No, I never knew him. I just heard about him from my parents. I think our fathers served together in the army for a time. I can ask him, though, next time I visit, if you would like to know more.”
“That would be nice.”
John didn’t say any more, and the room suddenly became uncomfortably quiet. Louisa began looking around for something to comment on, rather than go back to thinking about what she was going to do. John’s breakfast room was unfortunately extremely Spartan, with no decoration of any kind, and no ornaments anywhere. Even the door handles were merely functional.
John seemed to pick up on her searching. “I mortgaged to the hilt to buy the place, so alas nothing spare for furnishings. A promotion will change things if I get one. Until then, it’ll be like this, I’m afraid.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s very bare. I realise that. But it’s only me here, so there doesn’t seem a huge need to decorate. I seldom have visitors. In fact, apart from my parents you’re the first. Welcome.”
He smiled, and it made everything seem all right for a moment. Louisa smiled back, and momentarily forgot the last few days. They came crashing back, though, with a weight that seemed to slam into her heart. “What am I going to do?”
John’s smile vanished. “I don’t know, Miss Louisa. I don’t know.”
She looked down at the table.
“Are you going to go home?” asked John.
Louisa looked up at him. She hadn’t even got that far.
“You can stay here if you wish. That’s an option for you. I don’t know if that would make things better or worse.”
Louisa looked up, feeling pathetic for throwing herself on his kindness. “I can’t go back there. I hate her, and I can’t face her. But I don’t have any clothes, and I have no money.”
“I could send someone to fetch your clothes if that’s the only problem. You will have to think it through, though. Realise that people will find out that you are here, and they may talk.”
“More than they talk already?”
John shrugged.
“I can’t believe that man seriously thought I’d marry him.”
“No. But then I didn’t believe he’d do what he did.”
“You can say it.”
“Sorry. I know. I just…”
“Yes, I would like to stay here, if you don’t mind. But you already said you don’t have anything spare…”
John reached across and took her hand, very gently. “If needs be I can dig into savings, or ask father for a hand to tide me over. Do not worry, Miss Louisa. I can get by. Fewer theatre visits – that’s all.”
She felt secure, and looked at his hand, holding hers. It felt safe. It didn’t remind her of Ed or Karl, but felt very different somehow. His hand wasn’t as strong as either of theirs, and was noticeably thinner, but that wasn’t it. It was the way he held her hand, just resting lightly, not holding but simply meeting.
“If you’re all right, I need to go to work. Should I send someone to get your clothes today?”
“John,” she said, lengthening the sound, wondering where this was going, giving herself time to think. “Can you leave it for today? It’s a little… permanent.”
John smiled, but this time perhaps a little disappointed.  “Fine.”
“Thanks. Just for today. I want to think things through a little more. Is that all right?”
“Yes. It’s all right.”
“Thanks.” She stood up, and without thinking she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.
John blushed. “Err, yes, well. The lounge is through there… You can explore the place. There’s not much here, I’m afraid. I don’t have a man here right now. The…”
Louisa smiled and put her hand on his shoulder. “Thank you. Really. I’ll be fine.”
“There’s a key on the mantelpiece if you need to go out for any reason.”
Louisa followed John and looked at the key, realising she’d never needed one before. She picked it up and rolled it round her fingers. It felt strangely tingly, like this small object was freedom.
As she was staring at it, John let himself out and the door clicked behind him. Louisa was alone in his house and realised she’d never been alone in a house either. It felt strange, there being no one else, no one to hear her, no one to bring her anything, no one to notice whatever she wanted to do.
She walked into the lounge, noticing how sparse it was compared to theirs. The bookcases sat mostly empty, the two armchairs by the side of the fire were worn, even the carpet in front of the fire had small holes where something burning had been dropped. The only minor decorative items were a set of four glasses around a small decanter, half-full of what looked like brandy.
Louisa opened the door of the dining room, to see an entirely empty room. She walked into it, listening to the sound of her footsteps on the hard wooden flooring. Was this going to be her home? It felt so strange.
She found the kitchen, where a loaf of bread sat surrounded by crumbs on a small board, next to an amazingly clean oven. The fireplace was still warm, presumably the origin of the boiling water for the tea. Louisa frowned, feeling the heat in here and wondering why John would have made the tea and taken it into the other room. It seemed oddly formal for a man living alone.
She walked up the stairs and looked around, her heart racing a little now as she felt more like she was spying. Three of the four doors were shut, while the final one on the right was ajar. Louisa was drawn to it, and pushed it open, to see at least one room with the normal amount of furniture in it, with neatly-folded bedclothes on a perfectly-made bed. She ran her finger along the edge of it, imagining John making it early that morning. Going to the window she looked out, seeing the place from which he could have seen her.
After looking in the other three rooms, and relieved that there was at least a large bed in one of them – presumably where John’s parents stayed when they visited – Louisa went back downstairs and sat in the lounge, wondering what she would do. She glanced through the books, but wasn’t drawn to any.
She stared out of the window, watching the tops of people’s hats going by, and beginning to notice the clatter of horses and carriages down the street.
Finally the issue of Ed burst into her mind, and she felt the same weariness she’d felt before. This time, though, her heart didn’t just feel constricted by it. This time she began to feel an anger, a pure driven anger, that was new. This time, safely away from anyone involved, she felt a physical pain from the injustice, from the fact that she was hiding away because of what Ed had done, because of what Karl had let happen, because of Ed’s unbelievable arrogance, because of how her mother had reacted. This built up in her as she sat staring out of the window, and without thinking more she grabbed the key, placing it in her purse carefully, and let herself out of the house.
She walked quickly, still wearing her threadbare clothes, heading purposefully, this time knowing exactly where she was going. This time if people were talking about her she didn’t care. This time she was the one bumping into people, barging them out of the way if necessary. No one was going to stop her.
When she reached the palace she realised she was fortunate in her timing. The King was holding court for some introductions of ladies just coming of age. Louisa had been through that the year before, and briefly she remembered the terrified young girl who had spent weeks practising getting up from kneeling without catching her dress on her feet. This time a very different woman strode into the halls.
Louisa walked up to the doorway and was stopped by the guards.
“Louisa Forest, daughter of Lady Forest,” she said, firmly.
One guard looked her up and down, while the other turned and shouted. A doorman arrived, and again looked at her somewhat askance. “Miss Forest, perhaps you would wish to change before attending court?”
Louisa took advantage of the fact that the guards had stepped back, and pushed the doorman to one side. “Or perhaps I wouldn’t,” she said, still walking past as he reeled back, shocked. The guards took a step inside, but the doorman waved them away.
The next doorway marked the entrance to the court proper. Louisa was a mere few feet away when the doorman caught up with her and grabbed her arm.
“Unhand me, sir.”
“This is most irregular, Miss.”
“These are irregular times,” she said. She was not going to be stopped so near. That would destroy her, she knew. She jerked her arm away from the doorman, threw the door open, and walked straight into the middle of the court.
There were gasps around, but fortunately it was sufficiently unexpected that she got to where she was going before anyone reacted.
The King was seated, everyone else still stood. Louisa walked past two shocked young ladies and stepped onto the bottom step. The King’s guards stepped to his sides, but the King raised a hand and they stayed put. He leaned forwards, and recognised her.
“Your majesty,” she began, as loud as she could manage, so everyone in the court could hear, but then dropped her voice in the hope that their mutterings would stop. They did. The whole court became silent. “I am here on a grave matter that concerns your son.”
She looked to one side and saw Ed standing, shocked. He stepped forward too, but stopped when Louisa raised a hand.
“No, Ed. You will have your chance, but I am going to speak now. I am going to tell everyone here what you have done.”
“You think they’ll believe you?”
Louisa turned, and completely taken with the moment, began speaking, clearer than she had imagined she could.
“This man,” she said, fixing the eyes of one random stranger as she spoke and pointed at Ed. “This man attacked me in the Lord’s Tower on Monday. He raped me.”
There was a gasp round the hall, as if the word rather than the act was the taboo.
“You look at him now, and you’ll know it is true. You look at that man, not worthy of the title Prince, and you will see that I speak the truth. And whatever you think of me, and I’m sure some of you disapprove of me and the way I have acted in the past, I ask you this: If he will do this to me, what is to say he won’t do it to one of your daughters? What is to say that he won’t attack, dishonour… rape any of your daughters. I told him no, and he decided to take me anyway. And even for those of you with no daughters, for those of you with sons, do they not look up to this man? Do they now want to emulate him? Do they laugh at how much of a man he is, that he can attack a woman, knock her half-unconscious and defile her?” Louisa looked briefly around the now-silent room, and turned back to the King. “I am sorry, your Majesty, but I speak the truth, and whatever dishonour this means for me, whatever I lose from this, you of all people need to know what your son has done.”
Louisa stopped, and breathed, and only then realised quite what she had just done. She tried her best to remain standing, but that was now all she could do. There was a sudden eruption of noise behind her, until the King raised his hand, and the place gradually fell silent again.
The King turned to Ed. “Leave us.”
“But father…”
“I said leave.”
Ed walked out of one of the small doors behind the throne.
The King looked down at Louisa, who was trembling. His eyes were cold, giving nothing away. He looked at Louisa, directly into her eyes, studying her. She felt the full weight of his stare, and wanted to collapse, but refused. She wanted to run. Anything but stand here, with the full court staring at her from behind. Her cheeks burned red, realising what she must look like in her torn clothing, bursting into the court and shouting.
“You,” said the King after more staring, “will stay. Everyone else, the court is dismissed. Come back tomorrow.”
With loud mutterings the people filed out, the young ladies expecting this to be their special day the last to leave in the confusion. Louisa remained staring fixedly at the King, not looking left or right as people filed out, not wishing to let even one of them see her red eyes or trembling lips.
When the room was finally clear of all but the King and two guards, discretely distant, Louisa took the chance to look round, and finally it was too much. She flopped down onto the stair, letting her head fall onto her arms.
“Miss Forest,” he said, quietly. “I have known you a very long time. All your life, in fact.”
She looked up at him, now suddenly towering above her, even as he was still sat down. Her tears were flowing now, and she hated herself for that, especially if it threw any doubt on what she had just said.
“Why would you say such a thing as this?”
It was hard to speak through the crying, but she tried. “Because it is true. I turned him down, and he attacked me.”
The King thought for a time. “You know it would be his word against yours, Miss Forest. Assuming no one witnessed this event.”
She broke down again, and couldn’t talk for ages. “There were other people,” she said finally. “His guards were there. Just below. They would have heard.”
The King waited until she stopped crying, and then stood up. “You have use of one of my carriages. They will take you home.”
And with that he was gone.
The room was briefly empty, before the doorman she had pushed past opened the door and stood waiting by it.
Louisa struggled to her feet and walked towards him, aware that her height was gone now, and she was just shuffling along. She was a spent force.
The doorman led her to a carriage. He tapped on the side and gave her address. At that Louisa shouted “no, not there,” to the surprise of the doorman.
“Where then?” he asked.
She gave John’s address, and the carriage headed off, clattering along. Louisa did not look out, and simply felt the bumps going through her until the carriage stopped, and all was briefly silent.
She grabbed the key from her purse, opened the carriage door, and walked up to John’s house, fumbling with the lock until she finally got the door open. She let it swing shut behind her, and made it as far as the chair in the lounge before collapsing, staring out into space, her brain no longer able to think.
When John arrived home Louisa was still sitting there, still staring off into space. John shouted for her, but she didn’t reply. He saw her sitting, and ran up to her, squatting down and putting his hands on her shoulders. “Louisa? What happened?”
She focused at him. “I think I just did something very stupid.”
John waited for a few moments for Louisa to tell him, but she didn’t. Instead he went to his decanter, poured two large drinks, and handed her one. She sipped it, finding it very strong and unpleasant, but sipped it again anyway.
John sat down in the other chair and stared into the fireless fireplace.
“Well,” he said.
She looked up at him. “Well what?”
“Well. Just well.”
“Is that all?”
“I presume you’re going to tell me.” He took a long drink, and waited.
Louisa glanced at John, turned towards the empty fire, sipped her drink, and took a deep breath. “I went to court,” she said, quietly, and began outlining what she did that morning, and how it had ended.
When she finished John was staring at her. She looked up at him, and waited for a response. He took some time before speaking.
“Gosh,” he said.
“Is that it?”
“You’re beyond what I know how to react to, Louisa. I mean…”
She smiled. “You finally managed to avoid adding ‘Miss’. Well done, John.”
“You’ve shocked it out of me.”
“So, do you think I’ve been stupid?”
Peter leaned forward. “I think you’ve been the bravest person I’ve ever known. I am in awe. You walked into the lion’s den, and you came out with dignity.”
“But what will happen? What will the King do?”
“I don’t know, Louisa. I don’t know.”
Louisa felt the full impact of what she’d done, and needed John to speak next. She drank some more, and looked at him, expectantly.
John said nothing, thinking things through.
The two of them sat in a darkening room, watching an empty fire.
John put his glass down, very carefully and slowly.
“I love you,” he said.
“What?”
He looked shocked. “I’m sorry. I misunderstood. Please, ignore what I said.”
“No, John. That’s not why I said ‘what’. For heaven’s sake, you can’t just drop that in like that.”
“Sorry. I don’t know what to say. You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”
“John, John, John. If I come over there and kiss you, how do you think you’ll react?”
“I think I might be more terrified than I’ve ever been in my life. Why, is it likely?” he said, as she approached.
And they kissed.
At first he didn’t believe her when she said she didn’t need the spare bedroom, but she was a driven woman. She pushed past his protests of what was proper. She needed something to replace bad memories with; she needed something good.
When Louisa woke she had a splitting headache, but against that felt something so warm, so beautiful, that the world seemed a marvellous place to be. She turned to the man lying next to her, and ran a finger down his chest. She almost started crying again, but surely there’d been enough of that. She leaned forward and kissed him. John woke.
“Sorry, my dear,” she said.
He looked up at her, a face so full of love that she couldn’t help but cry. This was what she had wanted on the tower, and now in an almost-empty flat with someone she had barely known two days ago she felt it. She had it. She wrapped an arm round him, pulled him close and cried on his chest uncontrollably until he eased her head back, stroking her hair, and looked into her eyes. He smiled, and she cried again.
John stroked her hair, ran a hand down her back, and held her.
She was about to apologise again, but he put a finger on her lips and said “nothing to say sorry for.”
At that moment she realised just how much she loved him, and fell into his arms again.

When Louisa woke again it was to the smell of toast and tea. She went downstairs, and found John toasting bread by the fire.
He turned to see her. “Sorry. Mother normally gets a man in when she visits. I do my own breakfasts, but I’m not used to guests.”
“Guests?”
“Yes. Well. Err… I’m not used to the most amazing lady I’ve ever met being in my house… In my… Gosh I love you.”
Louisa smiled, and laughed. “I love you too, John, as I hope I showed. I think you may have saved me.”
John walked over and held her. He sounded like he was trying to start a sentence, but nothing coherent came out. Instead he pushed Louisa slightly back, looked into her eyes for a second, and then leaned forward and kissed her.

John finally went to work, albeit a little late. Louisa sat on a chair in the lounge, grinning from ear to ear, going through all the reasons why it was good that John had no servants, from their first kiss in the kitchen through to the overenthusiastic kiss by the front door that almost had her fainting.
She flopped her head back and felt at peace, just as someone knocked on the door.
“Oh, send them away,” she said, absent-mindedly, for a moment forgetting she wasn’t in a house with a butler.
She got up and walked to the door, seeing the silhouette of a man in a top hat outside.
Louisa opened the door.
“Doctor Grey,” she said, as he barged past her, followed by her mother. “What are you doing?”
“As I thought,” said Margaret. “Nothing in this room at all. You see?”
Doctor Grey nodded. “Yes, I see what you mean.”
“What are you doing?” asked Louisa, louder now.
“It is clear you are ill,” said Doctor Grey.
“No.”
“And,” said Margaret, almost as if this was a script to be followed, “as your next of kin it is my duty to help you. Doctor?”
“No.”
Doctor Grey continued it: “You need care, and perhaps some treatment to calm you.”
Louisa screamed, and turned to run, but Doctor Grey held her firmly, and two more men entered the house and grabbed her. She was carried, screaming and kicking, to a waiting carriage, bundled in, and a damp mask placed over her nose and mouth.
The world faded into nothing, with Louisa’s last thought that she still had the key in her purse. She could get back, she thought.

When she woke up she was strapped to a bed in a whitewashed room, by herself. She pulled at the straps, but couldn’t shift them. Louisa tried to lift her head, but realised there was another strap over her forehead. She tried to pull her head down into her body to shift it, but they were too tight.
“Help! Someone?”
Doctor Grey opened the door and stepped inside.
“Doctor? Please, you have to let me go.”
He pulled a chair from behind the bed, and sat down. “I am afraid it isn’t that simple. You have been acting hysterically, and your mother…”
“Just let me go!” she shouted.
“Your mother has decided, and for what it’s worth I agree with her. Your actions with Karl were provocative enough, but what you did yesterday… It’s not a sign of a sound mind, I’m afraid.”
“Sound? What do you know about sound?”
“I am a doctor, Miss Forest.”
“I was raped. I was attacked. I was humiliated. How should I have reacted? Just let Ed get away with it?”
“I am here to inspect you prior to your operation. I don’t believe talking any more will help you.”
“Operation? What operation?”
“It will make you calmer.  More likely to fit in with your social circle. You will be happier.”
“What operation?”
Doctor Grey leaned over and began doing something Louisa couldn’t see, occasionally feeling her hair move, or seeing the Doctor looking beyond her line of sight.
“What operation?”
The doctor got back up again. “It will make you calmer, Miss Forest.”
“I do not give my consent to this.”
“You do not need to. Your next of kin and I can decide. You are incapable.”
“I want to speak to mother.”
“She has signed the documentation.”
“I want to speak to her. Surely she can’t really want this?” Louisa shook side to side, unwilling to accept even where she was, let alone what it meant.
“You will feel better.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because it is in your best interest. You have been hysterical.”
“Doctor, please.”
He shook his head and left the room. Louisa screamed again, and shook violently, trying to loosen anything to get free. She shook and shook, screaming over and over, eventually screaming herself hoarse.
A nurse walked in a short time later, by which time Louisa could barely manage a croak. A doctor returned carrying what looked like a cross between a drill and an egg-whisk. He placed it on a small trolley, and the nurse began dabbing a piece of cotton wool with some fluid and rubbing Louisa’s temple.
“No,” she whispered. “Please. No.”
She shut her eyes, unable to find the energy to scream any more, or even try to get away.
Just at that moment the door flung open, and a familiar voice shouted “Stop!”
John! She opened her eyes and tried to look down far enough to see him.
“Who are you?”
“I am stopping this operation. Right now.”
“The paperwork is signed.”
“By the wrong person. I am next of kin to this patient. It is my decision to make.”
The doctor stopped for a moment, and stepped over to where John was standing. Louisa wanted to lift her head enough to see what he was looking at, but couldn’t.
“What is going on?” she tried to shout, but it only squeaked out.
There was more discussion, and everyone left the room. Louisa kept struggling, kept pulling and pushing, desperately trying to get free. There was no give on the straps, though.
Doctor Grey walked back in, alongside John. “That seems unlikely,” said the Doctor.
“It is here in black and white. You know exactly how the case will go if you do anything now.”
“You think so? You think this wasn’t…?”
“I don’t care who ordered this, or suggested it. You know Louisa, Doctor Grey. You have known her for years. You know she is not ill. Whether continuing would destroy you or not, you can let her go into my charge, and no one could ever blame you. No one would blame you. Whereas if you continue, I most assuredly will.” John’s voice sounded so strong, but with a hint of desperation. Louisa hoped only she would hear that.
There was a pause, and Louisa felt her life hung in the balance. She tried to stop quivering, as she felt both men looking at her.
Doctor Grey stood for a time, silent, before leaning forward and undoing the straps covering Louisa’s shoulders. She shut her eyes and tried to breathe, thinking if she flailed now, maybe it would be over. Maybe they would change their minds. She had to try to be calm. The second strap came off, then another and another, and finally the one stopping her head moving.
She sat up, trying so hard to be calm, but she couldn’t. She was crying, and John, seeing her, grabbed her and helped her up. He led her out of the room, along a corridor, and out through the front door of the hospital.
Only when they were in his carriage and moving did he speak.
“Oh my God.” He visibly deflated, and began trembling as much as Louisa.
She couldn’t speak, as the tears came flooding through.
They drove for a while before either could say any more.
“How…?” she asked, eventually.
John took a piece of paper from his inside jacket pocket and unfolded it, and turned it round. It was a marriage license. “We’re married.”
“But…”
“I know. I know some people I’m not proud of knowing, and this was all I could think of doing. I hope you…”
“Don’t tell me you’re about to ask if I mind. Don’t ask that.”
“No, I suppose you don’t. God’s sake, I’m shaking.”
“You’re shaking?”
John changed seats and held Louisa, and the two clasped so tight it almost hurt. Neither could say any more until they’d reached his house. John looked out of the window. “They took you from here, though, did they?”
Louisa nodded.
“Then we will go to my parents.”
“John?”
“Yes.”
“They’ll find out. We’re not married.”
John pushed her slightly away and looked her in the eyes. “My dearest Louisa,” he said, “my acquaintances are good at their job. The location on the license is near my parents. The date can be adjusted. I realise this may not be how you wanted to be asked, and I will freely accept if you want a release at a later date, but…”
“Are you asking me to marry you?”
John looked into her eyes, then to the floor, then to her eyes again. “I adore you, Louisa. If you marry me now you are safe. If you don’t love me I will release you as soon as this has blown over. The vicar near my parents can easily amend the date on a ceremony, and this license will match public records. You are untouchable.”
Louisa stared at him. “You do make it hard to say yes, don’t you.”
“You want to say yes?”
Louisa shut her eyes and grinned, and fell into his arms.

Two months passed before Sir John and Lady Cunningham ventured back to the capital. In that time the King took the unprecedented step of demanding his son remove himself from the line of succession. Louisa took the news with no joy. She did not speak to her mother again, preferring the company of her mother-in-law, and of course her new husband.