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Fear skittered down her spine and she fumbled to her hands, knees, and then feet, stumbling out the back iron gate that hadn’t been secured. Through the mews she stumbled, dodging horses and a carriage until she was on the street.
She looked left, right.
It was in that moment the severity of her situation truly hit her. She had no direction. No where to go. No one that cared about her.
Nothing.
It didn’t matter which direction she chose.
Not recognizing her location in the slightest, Pen’s feet turned left and she skirted along the edge of the walkway, avoiding the clean skirts of the ladies out making calls. Her head down, she didn’t dare to look up. Didn’t dare to be seen.
The streets got busier the further she walked, the walkways more congested. Cart vendorsstarted crowding the way.
Unintended, she ended upin Covent Garden, wading through the marketthat Mrs. Flagton used to send her to forfruit, vegetables and flowers.
Her arms wrapped around her belly and she curled into herself, making her way through the crowd as fast as she could while staying inconspicuous. She couldn’t chance Mrs. Flagton seeing her—or worse yet, Percival.
A tall woman took a step backward, directly into her path.Pen glanced to the cart the woman was at. A wax-chandler—the man wrapping up a fat order of beeswax candles. Expensive beeswax candles. The same man that had twice tried to pull out four of the beeswax candles she had bought as he wrapped them in burlap. The first time she had believed him when he said it was a mistake. The second time she caught him she realized he was nothing but a crook.
Pen moved around the woman, took a step away, but then the sharp spike of decency cut down her neck and she looked over her shoulder at the woman. She was a head taller than Pen, had an elegant profile with smooth dark hair in an impeccable chignon under a jaunty dark blue hat that sat atop the crown of her head. The woman could obviously afford to be duped by the chandler.
It didn’t matter.
Pen spun about and stepped to her, keeping her back to the chandler.
With a quick smile to the lady, Pen went up on her toes and leaned toward her ear. “Be sure to check the number of sticks before he ties it closed. The man likes to short anyone he can.”
The woman’s brown eyes opened wide, startled, and she gave Pen a quick nod.
Pen turned from the woman and the cart, seeking out the edge of the crowd as she disappeared into the crush of people.
Her breath shallow, Pen knew she had to sit soon. Her limbs were shaking, her feet barely making a straight line anymore. The crowd thinned and she scanned the buildings, searching for an alleyway she could sit in. Sit in for just a spell before she moved onward to the rookeries.
“Miss, miss.” A hand grabbed her shoulder.
Fear instantly coiled her body and her steps quickened.
The hand didn’t move from her shoulder. “Miss, please, I just wanted to thank you.”
Pen looked over her shoulder. It was the woman at the chandler cart. Straight on, she was not much older than Pen and twice as beautiful as her profile had revealed. Pen nodded. “It was the least I could do. The man tried to cheat me out of candles twice.”
The woman’s hand dropped from Pen’s shoulder. “Well, I thank you. It was kind of you to stop when you didn’t need to. He did try to dupe me.” The woman shifted the package balanced in her left arm. “Where are you off to?”
“Nowhere.”
The woman’s bottom lip jutted upward as her warm brown eyes pinned Pen. “You look hungry.”
Pen’s mouth pulled tight. She wasn’t about to admit that she hadn’t eaten anything real in four days.
The woman reached out, her fingers landing on Pen’s forearm. “Come, you will eat with me. I was just about to purchasegingerbread and tea.”
“No, I couldn’t impose.”
The woman nodded, her jaw set. “You justsaved me a crown.It is the least I could do.”
She threaded her hand under Pen’s arm and tugged her toward the gingerbread cart across the street. After ordering four gingerbreads and two teas, she handed one gingerbread to Pen and then passed her a tin cup filled with tea. Taking the remaining gingerbreads and her own tea, she moved to the north side piazza and spotted two empty crates to sit upon.
The woman sat, setting down her tea and the extra gingerbread next to her on the crate and the package at her feet. She patted the crate next to her and waited for Pen to join her before she took her first bite.
