Page 52 of The Lovers (Echoes from the Past #1)

THIRTY-EIGHT

The day was oppressively hot but overcast. Thick clouds blanketed the sky, threatening rain, and the air stood still, as if holding its breath.

Elise was surprised to see a carriage waiting outside when she finally emerged with Peg.

Edward kept a fine carriage but rarely used it, preferring the sedan chair when he went to the palace.

Still, he would be furious to find his carriage and horses gone.

He did not ride since his accident, and the sedan chair could only be used for local outings.

If and when he finally decided to leave, he’d have no means of transportation.

Elise was about to mention this to James but changed her mind.

He already knew, and he didn’t care. James was in the process of tying his own horse behind the carriage, so as not to leave it behind.

Two grooms watched from the stable, their expressions wistful.

The servants were sullen and silent as they gathered to watch their mistress leave, resentful of her timely escape.

They understood only too well what awaited them within the next few weeks.

Few would survive, if any. Elise was tormented with guilt, but there was nothing she could do for them.

She noticed one of the servants pinch Peg as she walked by.

Peg winced and paled visibly but didn’t complain.

She understood their anger and would have been just as envious if she weren’t leaving with the mistress.

Cook pushed her way through the crowd of servants and walked down the steps.

She approached Elise slowly, her mouth a grim slash across her face.

She didn’t smile, nor did she wish Elise well.

She simply placed a bundle of food into her hands and walked away, her anger palpable.

Elise accepted the offering with a nod of thanks.

She made no apologies; there was no point .

James was impatient to leave, so Peg, Barbara, and Elise climbed into the carriage without further ado and shut the door.

They felt the vehicle rock gently from side to side when James jumped onto the bench.

He’d put on his kerchief again to block out the noxious fumes of the city and pulled his hat down to shield his face.

Peg leaned back against the seat as the carriage began to move, breathing a sigh of relief.

She had the look of a woman who’d just been spared the gallows while Barbara gazed about with interest. She never left the house, so to her this was probably an adventure.

Elise took one last look at the imposing facade of Asher Hall as the carriage turned into the street.

Edward would be furious when he returned from Whitehall and found her gone, but she didn’t much care.

She had a chance at life, and she wouldn’t forfeit it because of the deluded ideas of her misguided husband.

If Edward wished to stay in London because His Majesty was still in residence, that was his prerogative, but he had no business sentencing Elise and her baby to death.

Elise allowed herself a small smile. Had someone told her that she would become so defiant after only a few months of marriage, she wouldn’t have believed them, but life with Edward Asher had changed her in ways she never expected—whether it was for the better remained to be seen.

Elise settled back against the padded seat and placed her hands on either side in an effort to retain her balance as the carriage jolted over the rutted street.

She debated whether she should pull down the leather blinds.

Covering the windows would offer anonymity, but it would also plunge the interior into tomblike darkness, not a prospect she relished.

A few more minutes , Elise thought as she leaned forward to see how far they’d traveled.

She saw several men striding toward the house with a determined gait.

They carried a bucket of red paint and a brush, ready to mark Asher Hall as a plague house.

One of the men noticed the carriage and raised his hand, demanding that James stop, but James whipped the horses, and the carriage lurched forward, tossing Elise headlong into Peg and Barbara, who squealed with alarm.

Elise grabbed on to Peg and the frightened girl, and they held on for dear life as James raced down the street, putting distance between the carriage and the angry men.

Two men started after them, but the vehicle moved quickly and soon left them behind, their curses and threats still echoing in Elise’s ears as she tried to calm her racing heart.

James avoided busy streets, which would force him to slow down, and sped down a narrow road for a few minutes before turning onto what Elise thought might be Holborn.

She didn’t know London that well, having grown up in Southwark, but Peg looked distinctly nervous as she pressed her nose to the uncovered window.

“What is it, Peg?” Elise asked the frightened maid.

“I think Master James is heading toward Newgate,” Peg muttered, her expression worried.

“What of it?”

“He seems to be going toward the city rather than away from it.”

“I suspect he knows what he’s doing,” Elise answered sternly.

It gave her immense comfort to know that she trusted James.

He had a plan, of that she was sure. Elise leaned back and tried to force herself to relax.

They were away from Asher Hall, so at least they were safe for the moment.

The carriage slowed down considerably as they approached Newgate.

James had timed their escape well. The gates were the most congested in the mornings and before closing time when people were streaming in and out of the city.

There was traffic at this hour, but at least it was moving.

They were surrounded by carriages, sedan chairs, men on horseback, and those on foot.

People’s faces were grim and wary as they shuffled toward the gate.

Some held handkerchiefs and bunches of nosegays to their noses, but most were too accustomed to the smells of the city to even notice and didn’t think a sprig of flowers would protect them from the pestilence should it come for them.

Elise pulled down the shades, uncomfortably aware of the hostile stares she received from passersby.

The interior of the carriage was airless and hot, but Elise was grateful not to be outside mingling with people who, if not ill, were filthy and disgruntled.

The carriage offered a modicum of protection and sealed them in a tiny world of their own, offering a false sense of security.

They finally passed through the gate and into the walled city of London, where Elise felt safe enough to open the blinds again and look out.

The people who entered through the gate dispersed in various directions, and although the streets were congested with traffic, the city was quieter than ever.

Elise spotted many red crosses painted on doors, and the people who were out in the street hurried along, their eyes downcast. The cheerful bustle of the city had been replaced by a miserable pall, the fear almost palpable.

Elise gasped with shock when she saw a cumbersome wagon make its way slowly down the street.

An old man drove the wagon, his face covered with a black kerchief and his hat pulled down low.

His eyes were fixed on the road ahead, glinting with grim determination.

Two more men walked alongside, calling out, “Bring out yer dead.” They banged on doors with red crosses, urging the inhabitants to dispose of corpses.

Many doors remained firmly shut, but some opened, and frightened, filthy people came out and added their dead to the pile of corpses already stacked on the bed of the wagon.

Elise couldn’t see the faces of the dead, but she could see several pairs of dirty feet hanging off the back of the wagon .

“Will they get a proper burial?” Elise asked Peg, who was staring at the wagon fearfully. Her hands were folded in her lap, but they were shaking.

“They’ll throw them into plague pits with a bit o’ lye,” Peg whispered.

“How do you know?”

“Me mam told me. Both her parents died in 1625. ’T’were a terrible time, then.

She were only four. Her brother, Jack, was eight and took care of her until someone found ’em.

An uncle took ’em in but only after the forty days.

Me mam and Jack were shut in with their dead parents for near a month.

They almost starved to death. Jack climbed out the window at night and foraged for food while me mam slept. ”

Elise shuddered at the thought. Would it get as bad this time?

She hoped not, but judging by the number of marked doors, it was bad already.

She stole a peek at Barbara, who was looking out the window and humming quietly to herself.

She didn’t seem affected by anything she saw, so that at least was a blessing.

The carriage continued on, and Elise leaned back and closed her eyes, so as not to see any more. She was terribly frightened.

She must have dozed off for a bit but woke up when the carriage came to an abrupt halt. It was so hot inside, she could barely draw breath. Her chemise was soaked with perspiration, and her face was flushed and clammy. She gazed out the window. They appeared to have reached another gate.

“Where are we, do you think?” she asked Peg.

“I reckon we’re by Bishopsgate now. I ’xpect Master James is making for the Old North Road.”