The Vagabond Duchess. Claire Thornton

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СКАЧАТЬ careered down the stairs and found the sewing box in its familiar place in the alcove by the fire. It had been in full view all the time. She was so used to seeing it there her eyes had passed over it every time she’d scanned the room for important things to save.

      She clattered down the rest of the stairs to the shop floor, terrified they’d lingered too long and the fire would be upon them. To her relief, the flames didn’t seem much closer. The fire was making inexorable progress through the old timber buildings, but not so quickly a healthy man couldn’t stay ahead of it.

      That didn’t stop the carter cursing them for the delay.

      ‘Be quiet and drive!’ Temperance snapped. He hadn’t lifted a finger to help them load the cart, but she knew he was being paid a fortune for his services.

      She and Jack and Isaac walked beside it as it rattled over the cobblestones. When she looked around she realised they were the last people to leave this part of Cheapside. The fire roared behind them, so loud it drowned out the sound of the cartwheels. Sparks as well as ash showered down on them. High above them the thick black smoked blocked out the sun.

      They were halfway to St Paul’s when Temperance remembered Agnes.

      ‘Isaac! Did you see Agnes leave?’

      ‘I…’ He drew in a breath and coughed on a gust of smoke. ‘I didn’t see her.’ He stared at Temperance. ‘But I wasn’t looking. Surely she must have—’

      ‘Did you?’ she demanded of Jack.

      ‘No.’

      ‘Carter!’ She lifted her voice in a cracked shout. ‘Did you see an old woman leave the shop next to mine?’

      ‘Wasn’t looking.’

      Temperance spun around and headed back the way they’d come. She didn’t much like Agnes, but she couldn’t leave her to burn. Jack seized her shoulder, pulling her to a stop.

      She tried to shake him off. ‘I have to go back. Make sure she left.’

      ‘You stay with the cart,’ he ordered. ‘I’ll go.’

      Before she had time to protest at his high-handedness he was running back towards the flames.

      Temperance paused on the verge of following him. ‘Carry on to Covent Garden!’ she shouted at Isaac. ‘Bundle’s Coffeehouse. Don’t forget.’

      ‘But, mistress—’

      ‘I have to see Agnes is safe. Go!’ she insisted, when he seemed reluctant to obey. ‘It’s your duty to make sure everything gets safely to the coffeehouse. I’m counting on you, Isaac.’

      She pulled her skirt almost to her knees and started to run. Modesty no longer mattered. She had to catch up with Jack and find Agnes. She was still clutching the workbox to her chest. She wished she’d had the presence of mind to put it in the cart, but it was too late now. As she got closer to Agnes’s shop, her pace slowed. The far end of Cheapside was already a roaring wall of flames. As she watched, the fire leapt the width of the wide street. If Temperance hadn’t known better, she would have sworn the flames were alive. She wanted to turn and run, but she forced herself to go forward. Jack was ahead of her for sure and so, perhaps, was Agnes.

      The shop door stood wide. She rushed inside, shouting their names.

      ‘Here,’ Jack called from upstairs. ‘Stay there.’

      ‘What? Why?’ Horrors flashed through her mind. She started up the stairs.

      ‘We’re coming down. Move, Tempest!’

      She jumped back and Jack emerged into the shop with Agnes in his arms.

      ‘What’s wrong with her?’ Temperance hurried ahead of him into the street.

      ‘Fell on the stairs and twisted her knee,’ Jack said. ‘Stay close to me.’

      Temperance almost had to run to keep up with his ground-eating strides. She didn’t ask any more questions. She had no breath to spare and Jack had Agnes safe. An occasional shudder racked the old woman, and there was a pinched look on her face, but the fire would not get her now.

      Jack paused once they were level with St Paul’s. There was a stitch in Temperance’s side. She wanted to double over to ease her aching muscles, but resisted the urge.

      ‘Where are we going?’ she asked.

      ‘Covent Garden.’ Jack sounded mildly surprised by her question. His voice was hoarse, and even his breathing was more laboured than usual.

      ‘Her niece lives in Southwark,’ Temperance said.

      ‘I can talk for myself, girl!’ Agnes snapped.

      ‘Does your niece have room for you?’ Jack asked.

      ‘Of course she does. She’s family.’

      ‘We’d best take you there, then.’ Jack set off again, striding through St Paul’s churchyard as he headed obliquely for the river. Temperance kept close to him as they pushed through the crowds around the cathedral. When she looked to her left she was shocked to see they were moving parallel with the fire. It had travelled further west along the edge of the Thames than she’d realised. They’d have to go further than she’d expected to find a boat to take them across to Southwark.

      ‘Perhaps we ought to go to Covent Garden,’ she said.

      ‘I’m sure Mistress Cruikshank would prefer to be safe in the bosom of her family,’ said Jack.

      It occurred to Temperance that, if they took Agnes to Covent Garden, she would still be their responsibility. Whereas, if they took her to her niece in Southwark, they could leave her with a clear conscience. She started to nod in silent agreement and saw from the ghost of Jack’s familiar grin he was thinking the same thing.

      It was very late by the time they reached their destination. Temperance had been outraged by the greed of the watermen. If she’d been alone she wouldn’t have been able to afford the crossing. It was a relief to hand Agnes over to her niece, Fanny Berridge.

      ‘You’re welcome to stay here,’ said Fanny, looking harried.

      ‘Thank you, but I’m eager to return to Covent Garden,’ Jack said, and a moment later Temperance found herself back in the crowded Southwark streets.

      Even though it was nearly midnight, people were out of doors, watching the catastrophe unfold on the other side of the river. Temperance’s shoulders slumped at the prospect ahead of them. The journey to Covent Garden would be as exhausting and expensive as the journey they’d made from Cheapside to Southwark. She looked at Jack and saw he was carrying the sewing box. She couldn’t remember putting it down. She reached to take it from him, even though she was so tired she was almost past caring whether she lost it.

      ‘I’ll carry it,’ he said. ‘Come on.’ He guided her with his free arm around her shoulders.

      ‘At least we can sit down on the boat,’ she roused herself to say. ‘How can they be so greedy?’ She was thinking СКАЧАТЬ