“You must be comin’ to London, Miss.”
Removing a small bundle, from his pocket, the boy drifted closer to the woman standing in the cottage doorway. “This here be explaining.” He gently dropped the dirt-encrusted handkerchief into her out stretched hand.
Opening the tied corners Nicola Highbridge was taken aback when she found her sister Emmy’s Roman coin nestled in the folds of the material. She must leave her self-imposed exile to honor her pledge as a member of the Sisterhood of the Coin.
Eel, the boy, slipped out of the mail coach moments before the carriage ground to a stop. Cold, damp air rushed in as the door swung behind him.
“I ‘elp you down, Miss.” He jumped on the coach step and extended his hand into the open door. “We not be far from your family’s ‘ouse.”
Nicola slid across the worn leather and took the boy’s hand. Thankful to have solid ground under her feet, she reached into the mail coach and removed her herbal healing bag from the carriage floor.
“Missy, here be your bags,” declared the coachman in a gruff voice.
Two enormous cloth-traveling bags soared through the air landing at her feet with a thud. Road dust danced around her feet.
“Eel,” she said, turning away from her bags.
A man stood next to Eel his hand tightly wound around the lad’s arm.
Well over six feet the man towered over the boy. His clothes looked to be those of a common laborer but on closer look, were perfectly tailored. His boots, highly polished, were not the type worn by someone doing manual labor. His clean curly black hair brushed the collar of his white shirt.
“Just where have you been hiding, my young friend?” the man snarled. “I paid you to assist me. Did you forget?”
“I be explaining, sir. First, I be getting the lady to her family’s ‘ome,” said Eel, looking in her direction.
“Sir, sir,” she interrupted-side stepping toward them.
The man turned from Eel. His eyes hard and black as a witch’s cauldron watched her. Whoever he is, he will not be reckoned with easily.
Uncertain why, she struggled with the need to justify where Eel has been. Not that the man frightened her but the lad could be in danger.
“Eel accompanied me to London from my home,” she said, in a firm strong voice. The man released his hold on the boy and continued to stare in her direction. His gaze journeyed, first to her face, then leisurely downward, penetrating through each layer of clothing.
She pulled her cape tightly about her but she could still feel his touch. The moment he looked away the pulsing heat and panic vanished, leaving her cold.
Clay Barber scrutinized the young woman’s face, as it grew pale. She was attractive, taller than most English women. The top of her head would fit nicely just under his chin. The tips of his fingers itched to touch the dark brown, silky hair peaking out from under her hat. Her green eyes pierced him. Yes, she looks tempting.
Too tempting.
Her cape had been costly once, but now well worn. She acted and carried herself like a lady of the manor. Why then, would she travel in a mail coach? There were too many unanswered questions he didn’t have time for. He ran his fingers through his hair. This woman was interfering in his plans. He was here to seek revenge for his brother’s death, not looking for female distractions.
“Oh, bloody hell!”
“Sir, your language,” she snapped.
“Truly, I beg your pardon, Miss.” He sighed and struggled not to lose his patience. “I employed the boy more than a week ago. He and I have an agreement.” He bowed his head. “My name is Clay Barber. It will be an honor to escort you to your family’s home. It is not safe for you to be walking the streets of London with only a lad, even one like Eel, for protection, Miss.” He paused waiting. Finally he said, “You, you do have a name?”
“Oh, most certainly.” Nicola nervously laughed. “My name is Miss Nicola Highbridge and I thank you for your offer of assistance. But it is unwarranted.” She took Eel’s hand. “We are quite capable of reaching our destination without your guidance.”
Why is this man trying to take over and treat me like a helpless goosecap? Does he think we cannot walk a few blocks in the daylight? I am a grown woman quite competent to take care of myself. After all, I have been doing just that for many years. His attitude makes me cross as crabs.
She didn’t need or want him anywhere near her. The feelings he created in her made her remember the one aspect in her life she struggled to forget.
Her broken heart had healed and living in Chew Magna kept her hidden away from questions she couldn’t answer.
Hadn’t Henry’s parents explained everything to her? Without a family history, no knowledge of her parents, no man worth marrying would be interested in her.
She had to remember why she came to London. Emmy sent her coin; that was all that mattered. So much in her life had changed since the appearance of Eel at her cottage. Her beloved herbal practice was left behind as well as the quiet life she almost enjoyed.
She was here to honor her pledge as a member of the Sisterhood of the Coin, which had been a childish idea of young idealistic girls. If any of the Sisterhood’s three members had a vexing problem, they couldn’t handle, just sending their coded coin would bring assistance from the other members. Well, she had come.
Despite her protest, Mr. Barber walked to her bags and picked them up with little effort.
“Sir, that is unnecessary. Eel and I can manage.”
“That may be, Miss. But I will accompany you.”
“We be safe with ‘im, Miss.” Eel tugged on her sleeve.
She looked intently at Mr. Barber and her face grew warm. She hoped no one would notice her watching him or detect her embarrassment in doing so, especially Mr. Barber.
Eel led the way. They marched single file down a narrow brick street, which turned into cobblestone. Every uneven stone thrust through the thin soles of her new fashionable boots.
The smell of rotting animal flesh wafted up to her nose. The smell of a privy, which hadn’t been cleaned in a fortnight or longer, hung in the air. The numerous street odors changed, intermingling with each other. Her eyes watered as her senses continued to be assaulted. Even her hands felt dirty air descend through the gloves she wore. She tried to take deep breaths, which only made her stomach contents inch upward into her throat. She swallowed hard, clamped her mouth shut, and began inhaling with small breaths through her nose, while she exhaled through her tightly parted lips. Inwardly, she talked to her stomach until it calmed and its contents stayed in place. Her teary eyes continued to itch. She used her lacy handkerchief to dab at her eyes as she walked down the street. The noise of the carriages, carts, and people made her forget her sore feet and her hunger.
“I will not be ill. I will not be ill,” she chanted aloud. Nothing would be more horrid than to cast up one’s account in front of Mr. Barber. She wished she could walk behind him.
They traveled down two thoroughfares. The amount of traffic forced the carts, wagons, and coaches to drive slowly. They quickly crossed the road, walking between vehicles, to a narrow side street on the left, which was void of any traffic. They walked down two more quiet residential lanes. Turning right, they came to a row of identical white town houses. Black iron railings graced each stairway and window. Nicola stopped at the corner building, number 626. Eel scampered up three steps and grasped the brass doorknocker to announce their arrival.
“Is something the matter, Miss?” asked Mr. Barber. “You look a little pale.”
“You, sir, are the most…” She turned to challenge the man who for some reason she couldn't explain even to herself, was getting on her travel-weary nerves. His pleasant smile and obvious concern clouded her mind.
Emmy opened the door and cried out as she ran down the stairs. “I knew you would come.” She flung her arms around Nicola and whispered in her ear, “I am so very glad you have finally arrived.”
Nicola slowly walked up stairs. She glanced back at Mr. Barber just as she reached the top step, imaginary fog enveloped everything except him. Her eyes grew wide as he took on the air of a knight in shining armor. She stumbled into the entryway, stopping her forward motion by seizing the doorknob. She recovered from her fantasy with a shake of her head.
“Please carry the bags in,” said Emmy, directing them into the foyer. “I am sure they are burdensome. Set them there.” She pointed to the wall beneath the old painting of the English countryside. “As usual Nicola is in time for tea.”
Nicola wished to pull or push Emmy into a room, any room, and ask why she’d sent her coin. However, manners dictate she introduce Mr. Barber if she expected to get rid him any time soon.
“Emmy, this-this is Mr. Clay Barber, an acquaintance of Eel’s. He insisted he transport my bags and see us safely home. Mr. Barber, this is one of my sisters, Miss Emmy Highbridge.”
“Miss Highbridge, it is an honor to meet you." Mr. Barber bowed his head. “Eel and I will be departing now.”
“Pleased to meet you, sir.” Emmy nodded her head in Mr. Barber’s general direction. “When you’re finished, Nicola, please join us for tea in the sitting room,” she said, smiling broadly. “We will talk later, sister dear.”
Nicola didn’t watch Emmy leave. She hadn’t taken her eyes off Mr. Barber.
“I have engaged Eel and I require his services for the balance of this day. Might you accomplish your business tomorrow?” She moved so Mr. Barber couldn’t see her wink at Eel. She finally found a way to outmaneuver him.
Mr. Barber’s face took on a reddish hue and his frown deepened.
“I hired the boy long before he left to go wherever he found you. Might I remind you, Miss,” said Mr. Barber.
“Yes, well, we made plans before you came along today, sir,” said Nicola. She looked at him with a forced smile.
“I would like to talk to you, boy. Come outside with me.” He smiled grimly. “I hope that meets with your approval, Miss.”
“I will be waiting, Eel." She returned his smile with one in kind. “Come promptly into the sitting room when you are finished. I will be waiting. Thank you once again Mr. Barber.”
She would be glad to get rid of him. Or would she? She sighed. She enjoyed watching his most tempting lips. If she observed him leave, it would give her an opportunity to scrutinize his walk down the street.
Then remembering why she had come to London she sighed, turned away with reluctance and hurried into the sitting room where the answer to the reason she had been summoned awaited her.