With a child on each side, Elizabeth’s steps began to slow. Mrs. Gardiner rushed forward. “Let me take one of them,” she insisted.
Elizabeth attempted to hand Alexander to his mother, but he began to wail and fight. “Izzy! Izzy!” he sobbed, clinging to her neck.
The infant had a similar reaction, and Mr. Gardiner said, “We will waste more time trying to fight them than to allow them to remain with Lizzy. We should just keep going.”
Fortunately, they had arrived at the edges of Mayfair, and Hyde Park was only about a half mile ahead. By the time they reached the lawn, Elizabeth’s legs burned with exertion, and her lungs felt raw from the smoke. Relief washed over her as she saw the open expanse of nature spread out before them. The early morning sun cast long, distorted shadows that flickered as the rays passed through the curling smoke of the fire in the distance.
The park was crowded with others who had had the same idea as Elizabeth. Families seeking refuge huddled together with what little they had managed to carry. Mr. Gardiner led his group toa quiet corner. A few blankets were laid out, and Elizabeth sank gratefully to the ground.
“Come, Alexander, lie down here,” she urged. “I will sit right next to you as we take a rest on the grass. There, is that not nice?”
She attempted to hand the babe back to the girl, who shook her head. “Oh, no, miss. It is not mine.”
“Excuse me?” she gaped.
“He’s my neighbor’s, but she left when she saw the flames.”
Elizabeth froze at the girl’s casual remark. “You mean to tell me this baby does not belong to you? What is your name? How did you come by him?”
“I’m Meg.” The girl shrugged into her tattered shawl. “No, miss. Deena—that’s my neighbor—she shoved it at me when she saw the flames. Said she’d be back. But she never came, and I didn’t see the point in looking for her.”
Elizabeth’s stomach churned. “But you carried the child all this way. Surely you—”
“Don’t get me wrong, miss,” Meg interrupted with a tired smirk. “I don’t mind a bit of kindness here and there, but I’m no mother. Best to leave the little thing at a workhouse. They’ll sort it out.”
Elizabeth stared, aghast. “You mean to abandon an innocent baby?”
“Better than dragging it into my life,” Meg said with another shrug. “What’d you have me do? Raise it in the gutter? The workhouse is where it’ll end up either way.”
“But surely the father—?”
Meg shook her head vehemently. “Well, it’s not like Deena knew who he was, did she? There’ve been too many men to count.”
As Elizabeth gaped at the girl, she noticed for the first time the inappropriateness of her clothing. Even for nighttime, the low neckline and threadbare hem of her dress seemed out of place. The realization struck Elizabeth like a blow—this girl was no servant or maid.
She is a woman of the night!
Before Elizabeth could say anything, a rough voice called out, cutting through the chaos around them. “Meg! Oi, there you are!”
Elizabeth turned sharply to see a burly man storming toward them, his face smeared with soot and his expression a mixture of anger and relief. Meg stiffened at his approach, but she rose to her feet to meet him.
“What’re you doing here?” the man barked, grabbing Meg’s arm roughly. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“I was trying to find Deena,” Meg mumbled, her gaze dropping to the ground.
“Deena?” the man snorted derisively. “She’s dead. Saw a beam fall on her myself—snapped her neck clean.”
Meg blinked, her expression unmoving. “Oh.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened in shock. “She’s dead, and that’s all you can say?”
The man’s eyes flicked to Elizabeth, narrowing. “Who’s this, then? Someone nosing where she don’t belong?”
“I am someone who believes this young woman does not have to go with you,” Elizabeth said firmly, her chin lifting.
Meg turned to Elizabeth with a wry smile. “Don’t waste your breath, miss. He’s better than being stuck scrubbing pots in some fine house. I’d rather stick with what I know.”
“But you could do better,” Elizabeth insisted.
