Page 16 of The Ambiguous Enigma of the Hunted Lady
When I grow rich, sing the bells of Shoreditch.
When then will that be, sing the bells of Stepney.
I do not know, sings the great bell at Bow
Here comes a candle to light you to bed, and here comes the chopper to chop off your head!
Chip, chop, chip, chop, the last man is dead!
The final line brought a rise of giggles from the younger ones, as it usually did, and the tone changed suddenly from a slow, somber one to a light-hearted joke.
Then all the outlaws curled down for their sleep and drifted off dreaming of their next meal. As Nash lay there, drifting away, ignoring the bruises on his skin, Leah's face kept swimming back to him.
He would have to catch her…for his gang's sake.
Chapter 6
Leah woke to the feeling of sun rays striking down through the wide windows of the guest room. In the daylight, the finery of her environment was revealed in full. Each hanging picture sported its own, uniquely ornate frame. Even the most basic of the furniture – be it the water basin, the writing desk, or a footstool – all reflected the eye of a wealthy collector.
She looked out from the bedside window at the estate in its morning routine. She could see servants a ways off, tending the miniature livestock beyond the yard, and the sun shone brightly over the tops of the distant tree line.
It is not so bad of a place to look at.
Leah turned away from the window and located the water basin, a few steps away from the bed nestled between two large shelves. She had the desperate urge to wash her face and hair, so she moved to pull the blanket aside.
The movement caused her great pain from her torso, and she lay back, gasping. She lay against the pillow which she had fought the night before, gazing upwards at the wooden paneling of the ceiling.
“Club-footed buggers.” she uttered, thinking of Nash and his gang. They had really worked her over. Leah tended to lean toward optimism when appraising her chances, and so the night before he had not accepted the true nature of her injuries. Now, waking in the light of day, she felt the totality of her bruising.
“Miss Benson?” there was a rap at the door, and the rosy-faced housekeeper entered with a small serving tray, on which was a bowl of steaming broth.
“Hello?” Leah croaked, perking up a bit on her elbows, gingerly.
“Oh, it is good to see you wake.” the housekeeper exclaimed, bustling over in her layered gowns. She set the tray atop a small marble-topped table and pulled up a small stool beside the bed. “Dear girl.” she took Leah's closest hand. “You're alright now, you hear me?”
“Right.” Leah mumbled, trying to make sense of this woman. “Where am I, exactly?”
“His Grace's estate at Worthington, dear.” the housekeeper replied, patted her hand a bit, and then became suddenly flustered. “Oh, dear is me, I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Mrs. Redford, dear, the housekeeper. I'll take good care of you, hear now?”
“Thank you, Mrs. Redford.” Leah smiled weakly. “But where is Worthington?”
“South of London, dear, we're not far from the sea.”
“The sea?” Leah's ears became excited.Perhaps there is a way to France to be found here, after all.
“Now come, dear, you have to eat something.” Mrs. Redford withdrew from the bed, waddling to the soup. “The Duke has sent word to London for a doctor.”
“A doctor?” Leah felt a slight panic rise up in her chest. “No, I don't need a doctor.” She had heard all sorts of stories about doctors, stories that frightened her beyond curiosity. In the past, she had had a few dealings with doctors that worked only to reinforce her stereotypes.
“Oh yes, you do.” Mrs. Redford retorted, lifting the tray after neatly arranging the spoon beside the bowl. “It's alright now, he's the family doctor. He'll take good care of you.”
As if to cement the fact that she would, in fact, be seeing the doctor, Mrs. Redford planted the tray across Leah's waist, trapping her in the bed, lest she dare risk disturbing the piping broth. The steam of the soup wafted up into her nose, and she was suddenly struck by overwhelming hunger. She had not eaten anything in over a day.
“Now eat.” Mrs. Redford instructed. “When I come back that bowl best be empty. Otherwise,” she turned and winked, “the doctor will hear about it. Now I'll be back for that bowl. I'm sure His Grace would like to know of your waking.”
“I don't doubt it.” Leah feinted another smile. This woman was clearly kind enough, but still she was uneasy at the thought of a doctor examining her.
The door clicked shut behind Mrs. Redford, and Leah was alone with the bowl of soup. Upon closer examination she found it to be a chowder of sorts, filled with carrots and potatoes and clams from the shore. She first tried a spoonful and basked in the delectable flavor. There was more salt than she was accustomed to, for salt was horribly expensive, and so every over flavor seemed to stretch into something new.
