could stop her. Disbelief and growing annoyance on his face, the guard caught her and held her from him at arm’s length. He shook her hard, then lifted her so that her face was close to his. She smelled beer and onions and felt the moist warmth of his breath.
“Get yer arse out of here. And don’t come back, unless you want summat worse.” He dropped her, and she cried out as she landed on the cobblestones. All the fight gone out of her, Nell wanted only to flee before she shamed herself by crying. Robbie, gray faced and silent, helped her to her feet.
“Can you walk?” he asked.
Nell knew he was angry and nodded without meeting his eyes, hot tears falling onto her cheeks.
“We’ll go to Madam Ross’s,” Robbie said shortly. “You can wait until there’s news.”
At Lewkenor’s Lane, Nell was relieved beyond measure that Ned was presiding over the bar and Jack was gone. The girls were gathered in the taproom like a flock of unsettled chickens, some crying, some railing against the cully who had turned Rose in, some taking a morbid enjoyment in the dramatic prospect of the execution of one of their own. They squawked and fluttered at the sight of Nell and Robbie.
“Nell!” Jane cried. “Whatever’s happened to you?”
“Nothing,” said Nell. “We tried to see Rose, is all, and the bandog flung me out on my breech.”
“The brute!” cried Jane.
“Aye, for shame!” chimed black-haired Nan. “What call had he to treat you so?”
“I tried to get past him. Came near to doing it, too,” Nell said, brightening.
“What a plucky thing you are,” said Jane. “Come, let me bind your wounds, little warrior.” The other girls clucked with sympathy while Jane fetched a basin of water and a cloth and gently wiped the grit from the scrapes on Nell’s hands and knees, crying out all over again at the red and purple blotches that already bloomed on her soft skin.
It was after noon when Madam Ross returned.
“Harry’s gone to ask for the king’s help,” she told the girls. “He’ll come here as soon as there’s word.”
So there was nothing to do but wait. Robbie went on to the City. Exhausted by the strain of waiting, Nell went upstairs to Rose’s room and climbed into bed. She could smell Rose’s scent on the bedclothes and pulled them tightly around herself. Wrapped that way, she could close her eyes and believe that Rose lay next to her. Surely Rose was safe and would be back. But fear clutched at her, and she sobbed, finally falling asleep on the tear-dampened pillow.
THE BLEAK AFTERNOON HAD TURNED TO WINTRY DARKNESS WHEN Nell awoke. She raised her head to see Rose coming through the door into the little bedchamber with Harry Killigrew. He was uncharacteristically subdued and stood by awkwardly as Rose flung herself into Nell’s embrace and began to sob.
“Oh, Nelly,” Rose finally whispered, “I was so frightened. I was afeared they was going to turn me off.”
“I tried to get you out,” Nell cried. “But I couldn’t. I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry?” Rose was half laughing and half crying. “Oh, little one. You have the heart of a lion and nought to be sorry for. It took a pardon from the king himself to get me free.”
She nodded toward Harry and, reminded of how much she owed to his help, launched herself into his arms.
“I’ll leave you to your sister,” he said. “I’ll come tomorrow to see how you’re faring.”
When he had gone, Nell tucked Rose into bed and dashed out to the nearest cookhouse for a couple of hot pies. She and Rose sat together in the warm bed, the golden light of the candle in its wall bracket reflected in the black of the icy windowpane. Rose begged Nell to stay the night with her, and they nestled side by side in the darkness.
“When I went there today, it made me think of Da,” Nell whispered.
“Aye. I thought of him, too,” Rose answered. “I cannot bear the thought that he died alone in such a place.”
She drew a
“Get yer arse out of here. And don’t come back, unless you want summat worse.” He dropped her, and she cried out as she landed on the cobblestones. All the fight gone out of her, Nell wanted only to flee before she shamed herself by crying. Robbie, gray faced and silent, helped her to her feet.
“Can you walk?” he asked.
Nell knew he was angry and nodded without meeting his eyes, hot tears falling onto her cheeks.
“We’ll go to Madam Ross’s,” Robbie said shortly. “You can wait until there’s news.”
At Lewkenor’s Lane, Nell was relieved beyond measure that Ned was presiding over the bar and Jack was gone. The girls were gathered in the taproom like a flock of unsettled chickens, some crying, some railing against the cully who had turned Rose in, some taking a morbid enjoyment in the dramatic prospect of the execution of one of their own. They squawked and fluttered at the sight of Nell and Robbie.
“Nell!” Jane cried. “Whatever’s happened to you?”
“Nothing,” said Nell. “We tried to see Rose, is all, and the bandog flung me out on my breech.”
“The brute!” cried Jane.
“Aye, for shame!” chimed black-haired Nan. “What call had he to treat you so?”
“I tried to get past him. Came near to doing it, too,” Nell said, brightening.
“What a plucky thing you are,” said Jane. “Come, let me bind your wounds, little warrior.” The other girls clucked with sympathy while Jane fetched a basin of water and a cloth and gently wiped the grit from the scrapes on Nell’s hands and knees, crying out all over again at the red and purple blotches that already bloomed on her soft skin.
It was after noon when Madam Ross returned.
“Harry’s gone to ask for the king’s help,” she told the girls. “He’ll come here as soon as there’s word.”
So there was nothing to do but wait. Robbie went on to the City. Exhausted by the strain of waiting, Nell went upstairs to Rose’s room and climbed into bed. She could smell Rose’s scent on the bedclothes and pulled them tightly around herself. Wrapped that way, she could close her eyes and believe that Rose lay next to her. Surely Rose was safe and would be back. But fear clutched at her, and she sobbed, finally falling asleep on the tear-dampened pillow.
THE BLEAK AFTERNOON HAD TURNED TO WINTRY DARKNESS WHEN Nell awoke. She raised her head to see Rose coming through the door into the little bedchamber with Harry Killigrew. He was uncharacteristically subdued and stood by awkwardly as Rose flung herself into Nell’s embrace and began to sob.
“Oh, Nelly,” Rose finally whispered, “I was so frightened. I was afeared they was going to turn me off.”
“I tried to get you out,” Nell cried. “But I couldn’t. I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry?” Rose was half laughing and half crying. “Oh, little one. You have the heart of a lion and nought to be sorry for. It took a pardon from the king himself to get me free.”
She nodded toward Harry and, reminded of how much she owed to his help, launched herself into his arms.
“I’ll leave you to your sister,” he said. “I’ll come tomorrow to see how you’re faring.”
When he had gone, Nell tucked Rose into bed and dashed out to the nearest cookhouse for a couple of hot pies. She and Rose sat together in the warm bed, the golden light of the candle in its wall bracket reflected in the black of the icy windowpane. Rose begged Nell to stay the night with her, and they nestled side by side in the darkness.
“When I went there today, it made me think of Da,” Nell whispered.
“Aye. I thought of him, too,” Rose answered. “I cannot bear the thought that he died alone in such a place.”
She drew a
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