Penelope Goes to Portsmouth Read Online Free

Thirsty work, escorting prisoners.’ He looked longingly at the rest, who were already burying their noses in pewter tankards in the tap.
    Penelope let out a little squeal of dismay.
    ‘I suppose the prisoner protests his innocence?’ asked Lord Augustus.
    ‘Can’t. Deaf and dumb.’
    Lord Augustus glanced at Penelope’s wide-eyed distress, and said, ‘And there is absolute proof he took it?’
    ‘Well, her ladyship says so, and that was enough for the court.’
    ‘But hanging,’ protested Hannah. ‘Surely transportation would be a more normal sentence for theft.’
    ‘Not from a peeress, it ain’t,’ said the constable. ‘If you’re on the thieving lay, best to take from Mr Bloggs of nowhere and leave the quality alone.’ And he walked off to join the others.
    Penelope clenched her little hands. ‘He is innocent,’ she pronounced.
    Miss Trenton found her voice. ‘Do not be such a silly chit,’ she said roundly. ‘You have never seen the fellow before, and if Lady Carsey says he did it, then he did.’
    ‘Are you acquainted with Lady Carsey?’ asked Lord Augustus.
    ‘No, but, well, it stands to reason …’
    Penelope had begun to cry in earnest, and all looked at her helplessly.
    Her food lay untouched in front of her. ‘I do not understand your distress,’ said Hannah, although she had to admit that that look from the prisoner had touched her heart. ‘Excuse me.’ She rose to her feet, and to the other passengers’ surprise, she made her way through to the tap.
    ‘I would like to speak to the prisoner,’ she said.
    ‘He can’t speak, mum, nor hear,’ said a constable.
    Hannah looked into the prisoner’s face. He seemed intelligent. She opened her reticule and drew out a notebook and a lead pencil. On a page she wrote, ‘Did you take the brooch?’
    She then passed both notebook and pencil to the prisoner. Holding them awkwardly, for his wrists were manacled, he leaned the book on top of the table and wrote, ‘I am innocent.’
    Hannah’s eyes gleamed with excitement. ‘Then why should she accuse you?’ she wrote.
    The prisoner read it and then began to write busily. ‘She wanted me in her bed. I refused. She took this revenge. She probably still has the brooch.’
    ‘Enough o’ that,’ growled the constable. ‘Time to go.’ Hannah took back her notebook and watched miserably as the prisoner was dragged out of the inn.
    She read what he had written and then returned to the others. She silently showed the notebook to Penelope, who had to scrub her streaming eyes in order to read it.
    ‘Oh, there you have it,’ cried Penelope. ‘He is innocent.’ Her large and beautiful eyes turned on Lord Augustus. ‘You must do something, my lord. You can do something.’
    Lord Augustus took the notebook from her, read it, and shrugged his elegant shoulders. ‘I cannot be of help,’ he said indifferently. ‘Deuced hot in here. Going outside for some air.’
    Hannah slid an arm around Penelope’s shaking shoulders. ‘I do not think anyone can help now that the courts have passed a death sentence on him. All we can do is pray.’
    Penelope clasped her hands and closed her eyes like an obedient child. Hannah felt a lump rising in her throat. Surely the man was guilty. He must be guilty.
    The coachman called they were ready to leave and they all trudged out into the courtyard to where Lord Augustus was leaning against the side of the coach, smoking a cheroot.
    They all climbed silently in. Even Mr Cato seemed to have been affected by the prisoner’s fate. They were just leaving the courtyard when there came various splintering sounds. The carriage dipped suddenly, throwing everyone into a jumble of arms and legs.
    Mr Cato was first to open the door. The front wheels of the coach had gone spinning away, the poles had snapped, and the cursing coachman was gingerly climbing down.
    The coachman examined the damage and his face darkened with rage. ‘Someone’s taken a saw to these here poles