“It is a house of bad character.”
Still, she did not comprehend.
“Sister, if you go into that house, some man will pay coin to use your body. The men there are rough and will do painful, wicked things to you.”
Her eyes widened in sudden understanding. She clutched her reticule. “Can you take me away from here?”
“Your man still owes me the remainder of my fare. You had best run back the way we came. When you reach Russell Street, hire a hackney and go as far as you are able. This is no boarding house. That scoundrel is settling a price and will sell you to the madam. Houses of this sort are always in want of young girls. Go on now. Run.”
Lydia ran back the way they had come and did not stop until she reached the main thoroughfare. Breathless, she paused and looked about her. How was she to reach her uncle’s home?
She glanced along the line of vendors and fixed upon an older woman who might assist her. Drawing nearer, she said, “Where may I hire a coach?”
The woman eyed her with disdain. “Give me a penny, and I will tell you.”
Lydia reached into her reticule and placed a penny into the woman’s hand.
The woman pointed down the street. “That carriage is a hackney for hire.”
Lydia pressed another penny into her hand. “Thank you.”
She ran toward the waiting carriage, glancing back to see whether Mr. Wickham followed after her.
She ran up to the hackney. “Sir, I require a ride to 124 Gracechurch Street.”
He looked her over. “You have money?”
“Yes. What is your charge to Gracechurch Street?”
He spat his tobacco into the road. “One shilling and six pence.”
“I have it.”
She reached into her reticule and drew out a shilling and several pence. “Get in.”
Lydia struggled with the door before forcing it open, then sank into the seat. The hackney was foul with stale odors, and the cushions were stained and dirty.
As the carriage moved into the street, she realized she had left her gowns, her brushes, all that she possessed in the boot of the other carriage. Tears rose, and then fell in earnest as the full horror of Mr. Wickham’s intention became clear to her.
She wept the entire way to Gracechurch Street.
When at last the carriage drew up before her uncle’s house, her eyes were red and swollen. She pushed open the door and stepped down, then came forward to the coachman, who reached for his fare.
“Thank you, sir.”
She placed the coins in his hand, and he drove away.
Chapter 4: Safety
Elizabeth paced the drawing room. “What is to be done, Aunt Maddie? Nothing can be done. Lydia is lost, condemned to a life of suffering, and perhaps to an early death. Poor little Liddie, oh, poor Liddie.”
She crossed to her aunt and collapsed on the couch beside her. “Aunt Maddie, Papa believes Wickham means to sell Lydia to a brothel. She will perish in such a place. Ought Papa not to be out searching for her? We know where we lost her on Russell Street. If he were to walk those side streets, he might inquire after her, or even catch sight of her.”
“Lizzy, they intend to hire a runner. Those men are practiced in finding lost persons.”
Elizabeth wept. “Oh, Liddie, Liddie. Will I ever see you again?”
Mrs. Gardiner was trying to comfort her niece when there came a loud rap upon the front door. Both ladies started, and Mrs. Gardiner asked, “Who can that be at such an hour?”
