Reader, I Murdered Him (9780358344964) by Cornwell Betsy

Author:Cornwell, Betsy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2022-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

She led me to a pub by the East India Docks. It took nearly an hour for us to walk there, but something about her drew me. It was as if a leash were looped around each of us; although who held it in her hand and who was collared at the neck, I could not tell and did not want to know.

She talked of herself as we walked along the dark streets, naming herself as a criminal again without the least bother; a pickpocket, mostly, she said, but one with aspirations. “I prefer stealing from the rich, like Robin Hood,” she said, her warm laugh escaping again, “and the very richest keep their riches safe at home. That’s why I need an ally who’s one of their own—but not their own. And even before you treated the boy to his tumble, I knew that might be you.”

I tried to keep my tone casual as I asked: “How did you know?”

“Oh, girleen, from a thousand little things,” she said. “The way you pushed your friend forward when every other girl there was only hunting for herself, for one. But I can’t be giving you all my secrets before you tell me yours.” A smile shifted the patterns of her freckles.

That last line was an invitation, I knew. I smiled back at her and put a finger to my lips.

We walked the last few minutes of our way without speaking more, but it was a companionable silence, not a tense one. I could not push away the feeling that I’d known her a long time.

The pub’s front door was closed, its windows dark; Nan led me down the little alley to its left and, after producing a long skeleton key from inside the bust of her dress, quickly unlocked it. I distracted myself from wondering if the key was warm from her body by considering the sign I’d seen above the front door; like so many public houses in London, this one was called the King’s Head. I was still French enough to wonder if the name had a hint of guillotine about it.

Inside it was dark and crowded, all ancient wood and stone and ceiling stains from centuries of pipe smoke. Yet something about it felt cozy, familiar; the smoke and the smell of drink put me in mind of Le Moulin’s dressing rooms. How horrified Mrs. Webster, and even Jane, would be to think that such scents still made me feel at home. I felt my shoulders unwind, and I couldn’t remember the last time I hadn’t held them stiff.

The King’s Head did, it seemed, have a king: a tall, fat, black-bearded, handsome man who held court in an ornately carved chair by the inglenook. He had large, expressive, dark eyes that looked so much like Nan’s that I knew at once he was her father, even before she called him Da and sidled up to him in a way that no one else in the crowd around that big, strong, smiling man would dare to do.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.