Chrysanthemum Stuart

“All alone in that old lodge - I never trusted her, and I'm glad I didn't.”

“She’s always been like this. Girls shouldn’t play with dead things.”

Rumours flutter like moths around Chrysanthemum as she is led, alongside her aunt, in custody on the long march to Leeds. Chrissy pays the rumours no mind. She did what had to be done, with the tools that were available to her. If she'd had her way, Prudence would simply have vanished without anyone the wiser; her cousin and her best friend saved from Prudence's machinations. If she is to hang for this, let it be by the word of those she tried to save. She will not run. Her walls were adorned with the heads of animals that ran; what good did it do them?

Instead, through it all, Chrysanthemum and Evelyn both keep their heads held high. They look neither guilty nor defeated. To the casual observer, Miranda Stuart, in her military uniform, appears to be more like an honour guard for her family than a jailer leading convicts to face judgement. Evelyn does not speak to either her daughter or her son. She speaks to Chrissy, as if that black sheep of the family had never been shunned from the flock.

“So you decided to join us.”

“Of course. I gave my word.”

“Good. That gives me at least some faith in your generation.”

“I have no regrets about what I did. I will face whatever comes next.”

A nod. “I have some friends in Leeds, from the army. I’m sure they can put us up for a couple of weeks. I don’t know if you’re still planning to stay with Mrs Chartwell, but we’ll see if we can’t get you set up with some money for at least a month or two after that.”

“What about the trial?” No fear in her voice. A straightforward question.

“With the real criminal fled, there is little justice to be had.” Evelyn sighs. “The magistrates in Leeds are busy people. They have better things to spend their time on. Though don’t worry, I’m sure we can get word to the right people to be on the lookout for Prudence.

“The Stuarts are a respectable family, Chrissy. It would hardly be respectable for this mess to actually get to court, would it? But I worry your cousin might get the wrong idea. You’ll help me keep an eye on him, won’t you? I need someone I can trust to do the right thing.”

Anyone paying close attention may note that Evelyn, on this walk, refers to Nick either by name or as “Chrysanthemum's cousin”. She does not name him her son. There is a distance, too, between her and her daughter. It is Chrysanthemum who has her attention and her regard.

As the outskirts of Leeds come into view, the rumours still flutter, but they have taken on a new tone in the face of Chrysanthemum’s pride.

“She was doing it to protect her cousin, you know. If I knew one of mine was involved with that Miss Winters, I’d be worried too.”

“She’s a Stuart, after all.”