design only God could fathom. I took a few steps farther out, turned this way and that, shivering in the cool night breeze. It had been a long time since I saw stars. I took a deep breath—in rushed the damp marshy smell of the Thames, and something acrid, too. What was it? Not a nice smell but familiar, having to do with the river. Finally, I had it: burning eel. Someone had caught eel in nets and cooked them on the riverbank. An enormous fire, too, for the odor to hang in the air this late at night. I never thought I’d savor such a smell; I’d always disliked eel. My throat ached as I realized that this could be my last night sky. More and more, my freedom seemed unlikely.
I found the will to walk back to the door. With a start, I realized it had eased shut behind me without my noticing. And was now locked. I pulled at it, hard. Nothing.
Fighting for calm, I tried the keys one by one. None worked. I ran to the other end, only to find it, too, was locked. Bess had not given me the keys to the allure; no doubt she’d assumed we would never need them.
I was trapped outside on this narrow walkway, hundreds of feet above the ground.
I felt such rage with myself, with my stupidity. I collapsed onto the brick floor of the allure and wrapped my arms around my knees, rocking back and forth, sobbing.
For the first time ever, I flirted with the thought of taking my own life. Of course I recoiled from the greatest mortal sin, as would any Christian. Unforgivable. A purgatory without end. And a disgrace no family could recover from. But my mind kept returning to the possibility. The pain would be brief. I’d finally be free of terror and persecution. Bess would be safe.
In just a few hours, men were coming to break me. And here I was, already broken in spirit. I might as well spare the Duke of Norfolk and his unknown companion the trouble of breaking me in body. I cowered down on the floor for hours, not daring to get back to my feet, for fear I’d hurl myself over the side.
Of course I prayed. But they were feeble pleas. And as with every other desperate prayer I’d murmured since Smithfield, they were met with silence. After the long bout of sobbing finally ended, I slipped into a dull haze. It was too cold and hard there for sleep, although every bone in my body ached with exhaustion.
Out of my haze I heard a volley of soft, sweet cries. It was the river birds greeting one another. I pulled myself up and looked to the east. Yes, the sky was graying toward dawn. More birds called out; they flew overhead. Their wings beat with a rapid thud, thud, thud. It touched something in me, these happy creatures, coasting over a prison wall.
I wasn’t ready to give up.
My only hope, and it a slim one, was in hiding behind the door. I remembered now that when the lieutenant walked me back and forth, the doors were often propped open on the outside. If that happened today, I could wait until an opportunity presented to slip around and dart to my cell.
I took my position next to the door, on the side I knew it would swing open to. The gray sky turned a sickly orange. The boiling sun was hovering on the edge of the eastern horizon. Already, I felt the chill lessen.
I heard voices, two men coming from the other side of the passageway. I flattened myself. The voices grew louder; keys rattled; the door flew open.
“My wife whelped in three hours,” a man said. “It may happen before dinner.”
The door slammed into my belly; I covered my mouth to stifle the cry.
A foot kicked something into the bottom of the door. It didn’t close.
“Aye, but it doesn’t always go so quick,” said another man, just inches away. “We could be in for a long wait.”
They kept walking. I heard the other door open and shut. And then silence. This was my only chance.
I edged around the door: no one in sight. I ran down the passageway. I could hear the prisoners stirring in their cells. I stalked by a sleepy-eyed servant carrying a basket down one passageway. He didn’t say anything to me as I hurried past, looking at the floor.