Page 27 of The Curse of Penryth Hall
“I understand.” I dropped down to my knees in the dirt beside her. “But I didn’t offer you charity, I offered to help you weed this abysmal excuse of a garden. Are you growing barley or vegetables? I honestly can’t tell at this point.” I pressed my lips together in feigned amusement and she let out a laugh.
It seemed we understood each other, at least as much as an heiress and a former chambermaid could. But as we were both fallen women, there was a kinship there that could never be erased. We’d both been badly used by men we’d trusted, and it was only the fortuitous circumstance of my birth that kept me from the same straits she inhabited.
She pulled her knife from the soil and flicked it out to me handle-first. The old filthy blade against her pale wrist. “Start at the potatoes, we’ll see if we can make it right again. Hmm?”
My eyes lingered on the knife for half a second before I took it from her outstretched hand, even though I knew good and well what ailed her could never be mended.
CHAPTERFOURTEENSticks and Stones
Itook my time on my way back to the village. Coward that I was, I couldn’t bear to return to the house and face Tamsyn again. My conversation with Nellie had ripped open the memories of my exile from New York. The only thing that had made my fall from grace bearable had been Tamsyn. I’d briefly thought that she and I could forge a life in this new world together, but that too went up in glorious flames. And while I couldn’t avoid her forever, it was a beautiful day and a few more minutes would cause no harm. The air was crisp with the first hints of fall.
By the time I reached the Hind and Hare, I’d resolved to myself that Nellie had nothing to do with the murder. Why, I didn’t know. But I believed it all the same. It did her no good to kill the father of her child, and she didn’t strike me as the sort of woman who would risk her son’s security for her own petty vengeance.
As for the rest of the village? Good God, it could have been anyone. Most of the town had a reason or three to—
“It’s her!”
I turned at the sound to see a young boy standing in thedoorway of the Hind and Hare. One I didn’t recognize. His finger was jutted out at me in accusation. “It’s the woman! The witch!”
Witch? “I beg your—”
Another man stepped out of a nearby shop door, malice on his mind. His face tight. Pinched and red as he snarled coming closer—a wild dog scenting prey. “She’s a one who brought the demon with her, did she?”
“She’s the one. The one from up at the Hall.”
“I did no such—” But I couldn’t finish the sentence as something thunked me hard in the back of the head. My vision swam, and I lifted my hand to the base of my skull.
I spun around toward the source of the projectile. In an instant, a crowd gathered surrounding me. I didn’t know so many people even lived in this godforsaken village, yet here they were, all closing in and shouting.
This was bad. Before I could think on what to do, another rock struck me in the middle of my chest.
A third blow came hard and fast again to the back of my head. This one much larger than the first two, making the hollow sound of a melon cracking between my ears. The buzz of voices increased and I couldn’t focus on them.
Could hardly keep my feet beneath me as I staggered toward the pub.
Crowds were dangerous things, able to turn on the head of a coin, depending on how the wind blew. Something hot and wet ran down the back of my neck, soaking through my dress.
I had to escape.
Run.
Taking a step back, I stumbled. Hands grabbed at me. Jostling. Tugging at my clothes. Something ripped.
The voices grew louder.
More shouting.
Piercing fingers dug deep in my flesh.
“Jago saw ’em, he did! All them devil books up at the Pellar’s!” The mad dog shouted back, spittle flying from his lips. “You won’t get our Ruan, you won’t. Won’t hurt another of our kind!”
The books, of course! But what on earth wasinthat trunk anyway? There was no time to think overmuch on that as another rock struck my shoulder, skittering to my feet. If I made it out of this alive, Mr. Owen was going to owe me a great deal indeed.
I tried to tug myself out of their grasp, to find an escape, but there was nothing. Nothing but the crowd and the ever-growing darkness in my eyes. I must be bleeding. That had to be it. Bile rose up in my throat as the jeers grew louder. They thought I’d killed Edward.
Another rock cracked me sharp and fast in my brow. The pain dropped me to my knees as the sticky wet substance filled my eyes.
Oh God.
