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Paul would have had her doing the same, but she could not bring herself to go. What if half an hour after she had fled, Paul came looking for her here, injured and needing her care?

‘What do you want to take with us, ma’am?’ Jennifer asked. ‘I can go upstairs and pack your most precious possessions in the sheets, so we can carry things ourselves.’

It was the fourth time she had suggested they pack.

‘I honestly think nothing, Jennifer. I am waiting. I cannot believe Napolean will reach the city.’ Four times Ellen had denied the suggestion that they should leave.

Her stomach was tied in a tight knot, full of fear – not for herself, but for Paul. Her mind’s eye continually saw the highwayman’s bloody body – but the body had Paul’s face. He could not be dead; she would feel it.

She looked at Jennifer, her heartbeat pacing out the seconds. ‘Let us go outside and see if it is like this all over Brussels.’

‘Ma’am, we should not go out, we should leave with everyone else. If the city is overrun we shall be…’

Raped and murdered; Jennifer did not have to say the words. They had both heard rumours of the Peninsular War on their journey here, and Ellen knew that was why Paul had told her to run.

But how could she abandon him? It would be treacherous to leave him behind, it would imply she believed he was dead, and she refused to believe that.

‘Please humour me, Jennifer, let us go out into the streets.’

For the fourth time that day, Jennifer held Ellen’s pelisse for her to put on, but Jennifer’s expression was not happy.

Immediately after stepping from the door, Ellen was jostled by the crowd, everyone was forcing their way towards the edge of the city to escape.

‘Ma’am, we should go back inside and pack,’ Jennifer said urgently.

‘Let us see what is happening first,’ Ellen denied, refusing to give in.

At the very edge of the crowd, one shoulder against the walls of the houses, she pushed her way through, walking against the tide of people. She did not look to see if Jennifer followed. She worked her way slowly along the street to the corner, believing that in the side street it would be quiet. Of course it was not, it was the same.

Ellen saw a woman in the crowd, beside a carriage, holding her wedding ring out towards the carriage window. Ellen had seen her a dozen times, walking along the streets on the arm of a soldier. ‘Give me a seat on your carriage, sir. I only ask to sit beside the coachman?’

‘Get back,’ the coachman yelled at her. ‘Or I’ll rear the horses and ’ave them crush you!’

People were doing anything today, at any cost, to escape the city.

Paul had urged Ellen to do the same as this woman, but she had been denied anyway. It was better to stay, she decided.

‘Ma’am!’ Jennifer’s hand gripped Ellen’s arm, holding her still. ‘If you will not leave the city, then I must leave your service. I shall find my own way back to a port.’

Horror struck Ellen full force, she would be alone. But she could not insist Jennifer stayed. ‘Of course. Go if you must. We will go back, and you can quickly pack your belongings.’

Paul would shout at her when he discovered she had chosen to remain here. He would call this foolish. But the warm light that burned in her heart for him could not leave.

‘Come with me, ma’am.’ Jennifer’s grip firmed on Ellen’s arm, urging Ellen physically as well as with words.

‘No, I will stay and wait for the captain.’

‘And if he does not return?’

‘He will.’

Ellen let the flow of people carry her back to the property she and Paul had called home for weeks, with Jennifer in front of her.

As Jennifer went upstairs to pack, Ellen went to her bedchamber and found out the money Paul had left for her, then took it to Jennifer. She had not been paid for four weeks; the money would be compensation. It would be unthinkable to let Jennifer go without the means to obtain a passage home.

‘Ma’am, you need not give me all of this.’

‘Just take it, Jennifer.’