Chapter 29

29

Eliza

February 11, 1791

My legs began to burn soon after leaving the alley, and my left foot started to blister, the swollen skin rubbing against my worn shoe with each stride. I gasped for air and a sharp pain, like an ice pick, left me clutching my rib cage. Everything in my body begged me to stop, stop.

The constables were twenty strides from us now, perhaps less. How had they found us? Had they followed me from Lady Clarence’s estate, even though I took a winding, complicated route? There were only two of them; the third constable must have stayed behind, or perhaps he could not keep up. They chased after us, this pair of wolves, like we were rabbits—their supper.

Where was the wolfsbane now?

But we stayed ahead of them. We did not carry rings of iron on our uniform or have stomachs heavy with ale. And even in her weakened state, Nella was faster than the constables. As they pursued us, the distance grew greater by three, five, six strides.

With the instinct of prey, I motioned for Nella to follow as I made a sharp turn left onto a small alley. We raced to the very back—the constables having not yet come around the corner to see where we’d gone—and found ourselves at a cobbled walking path leading to another alley. I grabbed Nella’s hand and pulled her forward. She winced at some pain, but I ignored it. There was no room for pity in my fear-stricken heart.

I wanted desperately to look behind us, to see if the constables had turned onto the alley and were quick on our heels, but I resisted. Forward, forward. A stinging sensation crawled across my collarbone. Not slowing my steps, I glanced down, expecting to see a bee or some other biting insect. Instead, it was one of the vials pressing uncomfortably against my skin as I ran, as if I needed a reminder that the minutes were passing too slowly, and it was not yet time for the tincture.

Ahead, situated behind a carriage house, I spotted a stable: dark, covered, with several haystacks forming a boulder that stood twice as tall as me. I aimed straight for it, still urging Nella along, but her grimace told me that she was in real pain. Her face, which a moment ago was a beating, angry red, had gone pale.

Nella and I passed by the carriage house and slithered through a wooden gate leading to the stables. There was a horse in the center stall and he exhaled nervously at our approach, as though sensing danger. We made our way to the stall at the far left, halfway hidden by the carriage house.

Here, at last, Nella and I crumbled to the ground, which was covered mostly in remnants of loose hay. It felt like being back in Swindon again, inside the stables where I used to fall asleep instead of doing my chores. I avoided a spot toward the center with a pile of horse dung, but Nella paid no attention to where she sat.

“You are well?” I asked between my own desperate breaths.

She nodded her head weakly.

Crouching down to seek out an opening in the wall where I could peek out, I found a penny-size hole so close to the ground that I had to kick aside a pile of soiled hay and lie on my belly. Peering through the hole, I was relieved to see nothing awry. No officers searched the area, no dogs sniffed the scent of a newcomer, there was not so much as a stable attendant doing chores.

But I was not so naive to believe we were out of harm’s way, so I held my position on the damp ground. For the next few minutes, I alternated between deeply inhaling in order to catch my breath, checking the peephole for any movement outside and glancing at Nella, who remained very still and had not spoken a word to me since we left the shop.

As I lay there and watched her slowing breath and the way she brushed an unruly curl from her face, I remembered the very moment that brought us to this one, the night we slept in another stable after beetle-hunting. That was the night that Nella had revealed so much to me: her love for Frederick, his betrayal of her and everything that led her to live a life as a poisoner of brothers, husbands, masters, sons.

Peeking out again, movement caught my eye. Given the tiny hole through which I looked, I tried to move my eye around the narrow field of vision, to little avail. I waited, my heart thundering in my chest.

“They may find us yet, Eliza,” came a hoarse whisper behind me. I winced at the strain in Nella’s voice. “If they do, you must deny knowing me. You must deny ever setting foot into my shop. Do you understand? This is not yours to face. Say that I threatened you, forced you into this stable, and—”

“Shhh,” I hushed her. My God, she looked weak—the resin drops were fading fast. And ahead, near the carriage house, a small gathering had formed. I could not make out everyone in attendance, but several young men chatted animatedly and waved their hands, pointing around the edges of the stables where we now waited with bated breath. Given my position on my belly, my arms bore most of my weight and began to shake, but I could not release the weight without also pulling my eye from the peephole.

If the men searched the stables, they would find us within seconds. I looked to the back of the stable; the walls were roughly a meter and a half high, and I felt confident that I could scale it and escape from the back if necessary. Though a touch of color had returned to her face, I was not so confident about Nella. I could escape now if I wanted and leave her to be caught alone. But I brought her into this, and I must now try to fix my wrongdoing.

“Nella,” I said to her, my voice a mere whisper, “we must escape over the back wall there. Do you have the strength?” Without answering, she began to lift herself from the ground. “Wait,” I said, “stay low. There are people just by the carriage house.”

She must not have heard me, for she began to crawl up the wall. Before I could stop her, she lifted herself over it and collapsed onto to the other side, then she began to run as best she could.

I heard a man yell from behind us, and I was at once furious with Nella for her recklessness, which had drawn the attention of the men. Without looking behind me, I scaled the wall easily, landed on two feet and ran after Nella, who was already several strides ahead of me. She hurried south down a short pathway between two houses, limping all the while, and ahead I saw the cool, glimmering, dark River Thames. She was heading straight for it.

Unlike a few moments ago when I pulled her along, there seemed now a renewed strength in Nella, some primal fear, and it was me who followed her. The river drew closer, closer, and when she turned onto Water Street, I believed her to be making her way to Blackfriars Bridge.

“No!” I yelled at her as she skirted the shadowy edge of a building. “We will be in clear view!” I had not the breath to explain my logic, but with the men a short distance behind us, I knew that our chances of escape were best if we remained hidden by shadows and alleys. Perhaps we could find an unlocked door to run into; London was big enough to aid many a criminal in escape, as Nella well knew from a lifetime of secrecy. “Nella,” I said, a cramp suddenly seizing my side, “it is too open, like being onstage.”

Ignoring me, she drew near Blackfriars Bridge, which swarmed with children, families and couples walking hand in hand. Had Nella lost her mind altogether? Surely some bold man would see the constables chasing us and take it upon himself to stop us, overpower us with his strength. Had Nella thought of none of this? She kept running, running, not looking back.

Where was it that she meant to go? What was it that she meant to do?

Near the center of the bridge, a clock tower seized my attention. I squinted, looking at the tip of the small hand; it was ten minutes after two. Seventy minutes! Enough time had passed; the tincture was ready.

I turned my head back to see that, indeed, the officers had followed us onto the bridge. I reached into the bodice of my gown, my fingers wrapping around the two smooth vials near my breast. I’d prepared two vials in case one slipped from my dress, but I realized this decision had been wise for another reason: both Nella and I now found ourselves in a desperate position.

In my effort to carefully remove the first vial from my gown, I failed to notice that Nella had come to a complete stop in the middle of the bridge, chest heaving, her hands on the railing. I slowed, now just inches behind her. Dozens of people dressed in black and gray moved all around us, unaware.

Capture was imminent. I gave the officers fifteen, maybe twenty seconds before they were upon us.

I uncorked the pale blue vial. “Take this,” I pleaded, handing it to Nella. “It will fix everything.” I wished for the spell to give her wise words to say to the constables or form lies on her tongue; any kind of powerful magick, like that which had brought breath back to Tom Pepper’s lungs when he was an infant.

Nella looked to see what was in my hand. At seeing the vial, she showed no surprise. Perhaps she suspected I hadn’t really been making hot brews when she went off to the market; perhaps she knew, all along, that they were a disguise.

Her shoulders trembled violently. “We must part now,” she said. “Go into the crowd, little Eliza, and disappear like you’re one of them. Run,” she breathed, “and let the men follow me into the river.”

Into the river?

All this time, I had wondered why she made her way straight to the Thames. But how could I not have seen it? I understood, now, exactly what she meant to do.

The constables grew nearer, fighting against the mass of people around us, pushing them aside. One of the men was close, only seconds from us; I could see the chapped skin of his lips and the angry scar on his left cheek, which I recognized instantly. He was one of the constables I had seen at Lady Clarence’s.

He pushed toward us, staring directly at me, and the look of vengeance in his eyes said, This is where it ends.