Feedback: archaeobard

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine.

****

Chapter One

   There need not have been a Richard Rivers, and I needn't have been a maid. It had been set eighteen years earlier. Mrs Sucksby twisted it. She made so even Richard was a pigeon when he thought himself a spark. Mrs Sucksby planned to cheat us all and keep my true mother's fortune for herself. Me? Well, I’d be pressed into madness and left to rot. At least that is what I thought.

   It worked itself out different. It worked itself out different because she killed him. She killed him and all hell was set loose upon us. I didn't know about Mrs Sucksby and the whole of it when Maud had done it. I didn’t know anything of the truth of it all.

   She had killed him, she said with a paperweight; that he had stolen upon her in the library long after he should have retired to his rooms. She had been restless, unable to sleep even with the aid of drops. She had risen without stirring me, and gone, she said, to the library in the hope that work would bring sleep upon her. She had said that Gentleman heard her moving through the house and fancied he could pluck her then and there. She had slain him, she said, in defence of her maidenhood.

   Maud had sought me out after the act, shrieking and wailing when she woke me with trembling hands. She had thrown her gloves to the ground claiming they possessed her; that they had made her strike the blow to Richard's temple that sent him twitching and writhing to the floorboards. She declared her gloves had made a murderess of her.

   "I have killed him," she spoke with a stony voice and blank expression.

   I swallowed something I took to be fear in my throat, "Killed 'im, Miss?" I could think of nothing else to say. If he were dead, I was well and truly frigged for he was the only man who could vouch for Susan Smith. "Are you certain, Miss?" I added after a moment.

   "Quite certain," she nodded and wrung her hands, not knowing what to do now they were bare.

   "Oh Lord," I whispered. I believe I began to shake. She must have thought me concerned for her as she grasped hold of me and muttered some comforting thing.

   "We should fetch someone, a doctor perhaps?” she said against my cheek, “We could say he stumbled.” She pulled back and met my troubled eye, “Yes, I think that would do it."

   I shook my head, her words striking me. "No, no doctors," I said, for if doctors came there would be an inquiry. Richard would be found out; I would be found out and be hung for it, "We'll pitch him and be done with him," I said.

   Maud looked at me with horror, "A gentleman? We cannot, Sue, it would be foul."

   I smiled, the beginnings of a plan etching their way to my head, "He's no gent, Miss. You are too green. Have you not seen the marks on his fingers from his rings, the pilling on his trousers where they are thin? And his coin, Miss…bad. He's no gent. He's a confidence man set to marry you and be master of this house."

   She looked at me like I had thumped her, struck she was, and then this, "Do you really think it? She swallowed, a little colour rose in her cheeks, "To be master of this house?"

   I nodded, my mind in a reel, "Come, Miss, I will show you." I gathered my dressing gown about my shoulders and stole out into the corridor, Maud behind me. I held out my hand and grasped at her waist, pulling her. I wound my way through the cavernous house, down the stairs and to the library where I hesitated at the door. It was unlocked and hung ajar. The faint light of a simple lamp came creeping through the gap, like a finger.

   "He's in there?" I asked in a whisper. Maud nodded, her hand clutching my own.

   I ventured forth and the door did not creak so much as sigh as I pushed it. It swung inwards and at first I saw nothing, then the glint of the brass finger on the floor caught the lamp light. This then drew my eye to the slumped, dark shape upon the floor. It was Gentleman. She had done it. He did appear lifeless. His jaw hung slack, his eye was upturned. I had seen people ample times, slumped dead against walls and in gutters, murdered or simply given out. Gentleman looked no different. I remember once we had to budge the body of an old woman, she'd sat on our step to rest and the life had just stopped in her.

   I did not think that about Richard. I strode up to him, and poked him in the ribs with my toe to make sure he had really gone. He did not move, but Maud stifled a shriek with her hand. I shot her a look.

   "He's dead, Miss," I said, turning to her. In the thin light her eyes were wide and staring.

   "What are we to do…what am I to do? She paced back and forth a few steps.

   I suppose I felt sorry for her or something more and I needed to save her, "First off, Miss, to prove he ain't a gent have a look at these fingers. See here," I grabbed at Richard's arm and pulled it. Strange how dead flesh seems heavier than living. "See the green? He's got brass on here, not gold. Now what gent do you know swans about with brass rings on, eh?"

   She looked at me gone out, "Alright, he's no gentleman but a villain and swindler, but he is still a man. We cannot toss him out."

   "And what do you think he would have done to you once married?"

   She licked at her lips. I could not tell what went through her mind but a sneer came upon her lips. "I know a place," she said, "by the ice-house; no-one would ever look."

   "Don't worry, Miss" I said softly, "no-one misses men like Richard Rivers. He's a ghost…a phantom."

   "How are we to do it then?" she asked, coming closer in the dimness. Her eyes were pools of ink staring at Gentleman's corpse.

   "We must carry him to where you say."

   "He's a grown man!" she looked as if a fright had her, "We cannot carry him."

   I set my eye upon hers, "Think of a noose about your murderous neck, Miss, and then perhaps you might find the strength," I nearly spat the words for I had seen many women hung and could not bear the thought of Maud twitching like a puppet on a string.

   She nodded and raised a hand to her throat, perhaps imagining the coarse rope there. It did not occur to her that she could have shrieked for help and blamed me for the whole act. She was too good, too pure.

   "We must do it, Miss, or it will be both our necks." That seemed to strike a chord in her. She looked at me, her eye troubled. She looked to Richard lying dead; she wrung her hands a moment.

   "We will do it," she whispered finally and came forward to stoop by the body. She grasped Gentleman by his ankles and gave a tug. He did not move. She looked a sight standing in nothing more than her night dress and gown pulling at the legs of a man.

   "I think perhaps, Miss Maud, if we can get him to the rug, we may drag him across the boards."

   A spark lit in her eye, "Yes! That is the way of it, Sue. You will help me, won't you? You will not run off and leave me?"

   She said it with such heart-felt sorrow. What was I to respond? "No never, I'd never," I said, and I meant it.

   "Thank you, Sue," she said and seemed more at ease.

   We tugged and pulled and by the inches Richard Rivers came upon the rug. It was the rug stained from Mr Lilly's flying ink. The stain lay dark like blood beneath Gentleman's head. After a time we rose, sweating like pit girls and breathing hard against the strain. But we had shifted him, part way at least.

   "Now we must pull him, Miss, him and the rug. Will you come here so we may grasp the fabric?" I asked, wiping wisps of hair from my eyes and securing them behind my ears.

   She nodded compliantly. I had never seen her so listless. She was like a limp dish rag left on the side of a sink. So she came and we bent together, each taking a corner of the ink-stained rug. We hauled on the carpet. It had been worn thin and was threadbare in places. I heard the crack of breaking fibre but it moved, sliding, slick against the dust of the floorboards. We nearly stumbled backwards when it gave, but having got the start of it, we moved quickly through the room.

   We pulled Gentleman across the brass finger on the floor and through the doorway out into the corridor. Maud stopped a moment to secure the library door. We must have been making some form of commotion for as we reached the opposite wall there was the sound of footfalls.

   "Who's there?" It was Mr Lilly's voice. I could see him from the corner of my eye; he held an oil lamp and was peering about.

   "It's only me, Uncle," Maud whispered, the frights making her voice shake.

   I looked at Gentleman on the rug. His booted feet stuck out past the start of the corridor. I looked to Mr Lilly and thanked the Lord for his bad eyesight. If he were to see a pair of boots lying upon the corridor floor we would be done.

   "Don't wake the whole house," Mr Lilly grumbled and turned away, back to his room.

   I let out a breath I had been unaware of holding, "Oh Miss Maud…" I whispered, my own hand shaking. I could see the whites of her eyes in the dark, gleaming like pearl. She blinked and disappeared into dimness for a moment. She moved to me. Her dressing gown had fallen loosely open and gaped at her throat. She did not seem to notice and I stopped her from stooping to the rug. I retied her gown and brushed back thin tendrils of hair. I cupped at her cheek briefly for a moment and smiled.

   "Don't fret. It’ll work itself out, Miss, you’ll see." I do not know if I believed my own words just then, but I had to say something or she would have frozen to the spot. She jumped when I touched her, so I let my hand fall. We continued pulling Richard's corpse down the corridor; the hissing whisper of the rug upon the floorboards and the soft scrape, scraping of his boot heels made us hurry save Mr Lilly ventured from his room again.

   Then at last we stood before the entrance to Briar, moonlight trickled under the crack beneath the huge double doors. I looked at Maud, she seemed ghostly and pale. She looked at me and I stepped forward to try the door handles. I knew they would be locked before I put a hand on them. Mr Way locked and checked the house each night before retiring and I knew the handle would move but the door stay solid. I tried it anyway. It squeaked like a mouse being trampled in the dark.

   "Oh dear God…" Maud whispered, a hand to her mouth, "We are trapped, we cannot get out!" Her voice rose shrilly.

   I wondered if she thought the house would remain open at night as it was in the day. I wondered if she thought she could step free of her confinement at any given moment.

    "Shhhhh!" I raised a trembling finger to my lips in an effort to quiet her, "There is always a way, Miss." I stepped to her and took from the lapel of her dressing gown a long pin she had there, a double cluster of rubies in the shape of a heart. It seemed odd to me to adorn night things with jewels, but then, I was no lady. Maud looked at me strangely but then a realisation came upon her.

   I took the pin and bent the tip of it quickly. The lock to the door was heavy but simple. It was the type of lock for a country dwelling. It was the type of lock that protected nothing and was merely for show. Then again there were a thousand ways of getting into a house like Briar. The tumblers moved as easily as a hot knife in butter. The pin was sturdy and after a moment, the mechanism gave with a sharp click. I smiled and turned to Maud. I gave her a sly wink. She must have thought me mad and villainous for her breath caught and I am certain some colour rose to her cheeks.

   I pulled one side of the door open and we dragged Gentleman out into the night. We rested him at the top of the stone steps leading down to the gravel drive; his form slumped askew against a stone column. I shut the door, unbent Maud's pin and re-secured it to her lapel.

   She placed her hand on my own, "Thank you, Sue," she said.

   Despite myself I gave her a little curtsey. We could talk more freely now we were out of the house and in the night.

   "We cannot drag him across the gravel drive, Miss, I'm afraid the rug would give out. Mr Inker keeps a barrow in one of the outbuildings. We could use the steps and tip him in it, then we can wheel him all the way to London if you like," I tried to give a little laugh, but it came out as more of a dry cough.

   "London…" Maud said in a small voice.

   The smile dropped from my face. She'd not see London now, but then, she wouldn't see the madhouse neither.

   "I'll fetch the barrow, Miss," I said and made to leave but Maud grasped hold of my wrist.

   "You can't leave me, Sue. You said you wouldn't," she shook her head and her eyes were wild in the night and flaming with dread. An owl hooted and made her leap to me. I grabbed at her to comfort her.

   "I'll be back, Miss," I said, rubbing at her shoulders for she was a slight thing.

   "I'm frightened," I could hear the tears in her voice. What if she got the 'sterics out of fear and started shrieking and shouting? The house would be sure to rise and that would be the end to it.

   "Don't be frightened," I said in a gush, pulling away from her so I could see her face. Her lips trembled and her hair was untamed about her temples.

   "Don't leave me," she said again in a piteous voice.

   "Oh, Miss Maud, I'm not going to leave you," and because I could think of nothing else to do to calm her, and because I could not seem to help myself, I kissed her. I kissed her full on the lips. I kissed her strongly and sent her back a pace, but I held her to me and made her forget about fright.

   I could feel her quake, her hands trembling on my shoulders, pushing, pushing me from her. She gasped and breathed and broke from me. Her breath was ragged and she was flushed in moonlight. My own chest heaved and I stepped back from her. She said nothing. I tossed my head proudly and moved down the steps.

   "I'll be back," I said, my voice thick as if my throat was stuffed with cotton from a mill.

   Still she said nothing, but let me go.

   The outhouse was not far from the rear of the main house, yet in the dark the way was treacherous. I thought at one point I was sure to stumble and twist my ankle. If I did that, I would be no good to anyone, least of all Maud. So I picked my way over the gravel paths and the tangle on unkempt grass to the small stone build building where Mr Inker stowed his tools.

   The outhouse was ramshackle, much like Briar was. The walls were crumbling and the door hung ajar against a rotting frame. A thin moonlight stood out against the pale stone and I was able to pull the door open on rusty hinges. Mr Inker did not secure this building; there really wasn't much worth nabbing from the place. Yet the barrow was there; a dark shape leaning against the side wall.

   I wrestled it through the doorway and returned as quickly as the light allowed to Maud's side. I found her sat upon the step, her fingers resting upon her lips as if to assure herself they were still there after my assault. I was awkward with her and embarrassed by what I had done. I felt a blush creep up my neck as I set the barrow down at the foot of the steps.

   I climbed the steps to Briar to stand beside Maud and cleared my throat, "We must get him in here, Miss." Still she did not move. What if I had put her in a trance and she would not come out of it? I'd once seen a mentalist entrance a young girl, we all thought she was dead. If she didn't come out of it, I'd be hung for sure.

   "Will you stand so you may help me, Miss?" I tried and held out my hand to her. It was then she blinked. She blinked at my hand in the moonlight and then she looked at me. I breathed a sigh for my breath had hitched in my throat. Her look caught me off guard. It was not innocent, it was bawdy and it was gone so quickly that I wondered if I saw it at all. I swallowed, "Will you stand, Miss?"

   She did so, taking my hand as she rose. She looked to Richard then, lying propped against the stonework.

   "How are we to do it, exactly?" she asked.

   I smiled, my breath gushing from me in relief, "I think, Miss, if you bring the barrow to the steps I can heave him over and he should fall like a sack of potatoes."

   She nodded and descended the steps to the barrow. She touched the wooden handles that had been polished like pennies from use and sweat. She drew her hand back for fear of dirt but realised her hands were already soiled. With the barrow set flush at the steps I hauled on the carpet holding Gentleman. He shifted slowly, scraping and sliding scratchily along the sandstone flags. When he was to the edge of the steps Maud came to help and together we pulled him, rug and all to fall into Mr Inker's barrow. He made a frightful sound; his limp head cracking like thunder against the barrow edge. Maud nearly shrieked at the sound of it and only managed to smother her scream with a hand to her mouth. She looked as though she wanted to be sick, but I would not allow it.

   "We must hurry now, Miss," I said, scurrying down the steps. As if to make more of my statement the Briar bell rang out the hour. It was three in the morning. It would soon be light and the servants would soon rise to prepare for the day.

   Maud glanced at me with a stricken look but after a moment she seemed to settle when I grasped hold of the barrow and heaved it backward to turn in the direction of the ice-house. I looked at Maud with what I hoped was an encouraging smile in the moonlight, I leaned forward into the barrow and heaved. It began to move, slowly at first, but then it found its grip on the gravel moved at a pace across the ground. Maud ran out in front to guide my way lifting her night dress high, exposing her slippered feet and ankles to the night.

   If I had thought that carrying Gentleman was a bad thought and the barrow a good one, I did not have much foresight or much experience in barrowing. By the time we had gone half way my shoulders burned like a poker and my hands were raw from gripping the slippery, shiny wood. Maud would glance at me and stop, waiting for me to catch her. She would watch me struggle and sweat. My hair was wild about my face and hung in dark, limp tendrils. Yet in time, as half past the hour struck on the Briar bell we reached the ice-house.

   I allowed the barrow to rest on the soft, grassy earth and stretched upward. I brushed some wayward hair from about my flushed face and twitched at my dressing gown. My slippers were torn and my feet were bleeding. Maud saw what I was about and came over to me.

   "Poor feet," she said in a distracted way, noting the bloody blisters that had chaffed upon my skin.

   I looked at her crossly, "Where's this place then?" I asked.

   Maud pointed beyond the ice-house. I saw it then in the low moonlight, a dark shape of a thing. It looked like an unfinished privy. It was rectangular with three walls and open at one end but guarded by a stone slab. The walls were about chest height and capped with stone. I stepped through the overgrown grass towards the thing and peered over into its darkened depths. Faintly I could see the top of a set of stone steps set into the earth leading downward. After as dozen or so steps, the way was blocked by an iron barred gate.

   "What is it and where does it go?" I turned to look at Maud.

   Maud shrugged and shivered, "I…I do not know. My uncle never mentioned it. I found it when I was a child but have never dared go down there."

   I looked into the darkness, "I can't imagine why not, Miss," I said. I felt a tingle of fear in my stomach and shook it off, "C'mon then, let's dump him over the top for now. We can come back when it’s light on your walk, Miss Maud, and take him further in. We shall bring a lantern."

   "Are you sure that is wise?"

   "He ain't going no place, Miss, and we must get back to the house, look there," I pointed to the eastern horizon where the faint stains of pink were beginning to blush against the sky. That seemed to move her.

   "Oh Lord, whatever shall we do?!" she whispered and began tugging at a corner of the rug sticking out from the barrow.

   I placed my hand on her desperate ones, "We must remove this slab in order to pitch him in. Will you help me?" I asked.

   I think she nodded, though it could have been the shivers that had come upon her. Regardless, she came with me and together we pulled and wrestled with the end stone. It was not sunk deep in the earth as I had perhaps feared, but rested against the two walls. Soil had piled a little against it and grass had grown, but with seemingly little effort we moved it, twisted it sideways and stared at the gaping jaws of Gentleman's dank crypt.

   I grinned at Maud and I imagined my teeth were yellowed tombstones in first trace of dawn. I moved to the barrow with its grisly contents and pushed it to the gap we had just created. I called Maud to me and gestured for her to help. Together we tipped the barrow, the handles rising. There was a slipping noise, a slight scrapping and then a sliding. With a crumpled effort, Richard Rivers slithered forth from the barrow to land with a dull thump against the stone steps. We dropped the barrow and looked at each other. Maud showed her teeth in a grimace of horror. I scurried to fetch the rug. With some tugging and hauling Gentleman rolled down the steps to lay face first against the metal bars and the iron clanged against his forehead.

   We had still to return the barrow and replace the rug before Mr Lilly's desk but that would take but a few moments and we would be back to Maud's room just as the house was rising. And we were. No-one was any the wiser regarding our nocturnal antics. It was only me and Maud who knew what we were to do next.

   In Maud's room it would be a couple of hours before the breakfast tray arrived. We were, however, too fired up to return to bed. I cleaned my battered feet and set my hair to rights. I would have wished to wash it but there was not enough water in the basin and whatever there was quickly became fouled with the grime from Maud and me. I dressed Maud and set her hair. I chose her gloves buttoned with pearls. It was only after we appeared fresh and newly risen that she pinned me with a stare. I blushed at it.

   "Tell me," she said in a soft voice, "have you kissed many girls, or merely me?"

   I swallowed and turned my face from her. What could I say? She seemed to have forgotten we had just cast off a corpse, "Miss Maud, I…" but I stumbled over my words.

   "You may be frank with me, Sue."

   I felt my mouth gape open, "I'm sorry if I offended you, Miss," I finally managed.

   "Why should I be offended? I imagine maids in London kiss their mistresses on demand," she smiled at me, and her lip curled wickedly.

   "I wouldn't know, Miss," and it was true. For all I knew, mistresses in London could have maids as sweethearts but I had never done anything like that in my life. "Lady Alice was too old for kissing, Miss."

   Maud laughed, the sound rang out warmly in the room, "But I am not too old, am I Sue? Come here and kiss me again."

   "For God's sake, Miss!" I never thought myself a prig other than the normal thieving type but my face burned and I found I was in some seized state and whatever had possessed me previously had scarpered on me now.

   "So I should come to you then. Is that it?" She took a step towards me, and I a step back. I was beginning to think she had a slate loose; that the killing of Gentleman had touched her in some way and put her over the edge.

   "Miss Maud, what are you doing?" My voice trembled and I thought it was from fear. What if Mrs Stiles should come, or the girl with the breakfast tray and see Maud advancing upon me?

   "Come now, Sue, don't be a prude. I do know some things from books."

   I looked at her madly, "Books?" I asked, "How can you know it from books?"

   "You'd be surprised, Susan, by what I know."

   She had taken another step towards me and the fabric of our dresses came together with a swish. I swallowed. My heart beat fast. The look in her eye was lustful. I think perhaps I shuddered.

   I said, "I know you know how to clobber a man and kill him." I stuck my chin out, defiant.

   "Richard was trying to take what was not his to have."

   I let out a long breath and my mouth jumped in a scornful smile, "You don't seem too frightened of loosing it now, Miss!"

   She looked at me. She spoke slowly and with care, "I didn't think kisses could start me off. Richard's kisses never have," she searched my eye a moment, "you started me off, Sue."

   Something lurched in my chest, something wicked. I shook my head, "God's honest truth, Miss, I didn't mean to. I meant only to stop the 'sterics," yet even as I said the words I knew I had lied. I had meant to start her off. I had meant to start her off and more besides.

   She must have caught the truth of me for she licked her lips and breathed a sigh, "It's a curious, wanting thing," she said and the thing in me lurched again.

   "I'm sure it doesn't want me, Miss," I could not breathe and my words were stilted like I was being throttled.

   "I am sure it does." At that she clutched hold of my shoulders and pulled me to her strongly.

   The Briar bell struck and I leapt from her at the startling clang of it. My hands shook and I was certain tears had sprung to my eyes. I looked away from Maud to the door, upon which had come a brief tapping. It was the girl with the tray. Had we been stood there that long?

   My breath rushed from me. I grabbed at the mantle to stop myself from swooning. I could hear Lant Street laughing, Susan Trinder fainting at the feet of a girl! I almost laughed myself had I any breath to.

   "You must breakfast now, Miss," I managed to choke out, more for the benefit of the girl stood wide-eyed with the tray than anyone else.

   The bell seemed also to have broken something in Maud. It was as if she suddenly realised what she was about.

   "Yes of course," she said, clasping her gloved hands together.

   She moved over to the table by the window as the girl set the tray down. The girl, what was named Molly, looked at me out the corner of her eye. I scowled at her and twitched my head towards the door. She dropped a slight curtsey and bolted from the room just as quick as she could.

   Maud sat at the breakfast table staring at what lay there.

   "Eggs," she said, pushing the plate away. She looked at me as I poured tea. My hand shook and the cup rattled in its saucer.

   "I am sorry, Susan," she looked at me quietly.

   I looked back, "That's quite alright, Miss," I said. It was far from alright, but I didn't want to set her off again. "You'll be going to your uncle after breakfast, Miss, and then we shall…" I looked out the window towards to the ice-house.

   Our silence knit together. Maud nibbled at a piece of toast and brushed crumbs from her gloved fingers in disdain.

   "Then we shall dispose of him properly," she finished my thought for me.

   "Yes, Miss."

   "Then you shall stay here at Briar and be my maid and we shall forget all about this silly nonsense," her look was entreating.

   "What silly nonsense might that be then, Miss?" I smiled at her, pretending to forget the night.

   She placed her tea cup neatly in its saucer and met my eye, "The madhouse…my fortune."

   I dropped my cup with the clatter of breaking fine china and the slosh of spilled tea.

   "Oh dear," my voice shook like my hand, "that'll not be put back together now, will it?" I tried to gather the pieces but my hands would not work as they should.

   "I had found you out, Sue, before you even set foot at Briar," her voice was even and her stare cold.

   I raised a hand to my mouth. The edges of my vision had grown dark. I could say nothing. I felt my mouth working but no sound issued.

   "I killed Richard to keep you from the madhouse."

   I could see nothing but Maud before me and hear nothing but the echo of her voice in my ears. I believe I made some form of strangled noise, "To keep me from the madhouse?"

   The Briar bell struck the half hour. Maud rose and straightened her skirts.

   "I must go to my uncle now."

   I blinked, "You knew everything."

   "I said you would be surprised," she moved to the door, "you will come for me at one, Sue, won't you?"

    I went to her in the library at one, as the Briar bell struck the hour. I went to her with fear and a kind of hate. I had thought her pure yet she was also a fingersmith of sorts. She stole hearts. She had stolen mine and I was too much a pigeon to see it until it had been too late. Now I was her puppet, not Richard's. It made my heart shrink and burn to think of it. She had killed him for me, she said, to save me. Now she had worked it so I must save her. We were both as guilty as each other. She may have struck the blow to Richard's head, but I had picked up the shattered pieces like so many shards of glass and bound myself to her.

   So I tapped at the library door and entered after a moment. All was as it should have been. Mr Lilly sat at his desk, head bowed, licking every now on then at his nib with his blackened tongue. He did not look up. He had not noticed that the rug was slightly askew from where we had relayed it in the early hours of the morning.

   I stood at the side of the open door well away from the brass finger and watched as Maud straightened the books and papers on her desk. She aligned them neatly, everything in its place and rose. She glanced at me and her look was cold. I shuddered at it and cast my eye to the floor. She moved across the room towards me.

   "Tell Rivers to come to me after luncheon," Mr Lilly spoke up, his head still in his ledger, "I have some more prints he must view."

   "Yes, uncle," Maud's voice was dry as she passed through the door ahead of me. I dropped a curtsey and followed, closing the door lightly as I had been taught.

   I looked at Maud with a keen eye. She snorted a small breath and swept away from me to her rooms. Luncheon had been set, a thin soup and bread and butter. We ate in silence for a time until I felt I had to speak.

   "Your uncle will be angry that Richard does not come to him," I said. I did not have the stomach for food and left most of my soup untouched.

   "My uncle has had many men break contracts with him over his work. He will assume Richard is no different. He will certainly not think him dead."

   I nodded briefly and stood, I could feel Maud's eyes following me. Earlier, whilst she had been with her uncle I had nabbed a lantern and matches from Mr Way's store room. I pulled them now out from under her bed where I had hidden them. I showed them to Maud and she rose.

   "You must hide them beneath your skirts," she said and I nodded.

   I dressed her for walking in stout boots and a plain dress. I left off her crinoline so her skirt hung for once at a respectable length but I hitched it at the waist. I did not want her tripping and falling. I put on my old brown stuff dress and was reminded of who I truly was.

   Maud observed herself in the mirror. "I look like a common place girl," she said, twitching at her skirts.

   "You could look like a coal heaver as long as you are dressed for the task at hand, Miss."

   That brought her back down, her face dropped, "Yes, yes of course."

   I secured the lantern with tapes beneath my skirts. It felt cold and hard pressing against my thigh, like a dead hand or worse. It made me shudder.

   We left the house without notice as it was usual for Maud to walk after lunch, though this time there was no laughter; no quickness of step at the thought of escaping the dreary old building for an hour or two. We plodded and silently made our way down the path to the ice-house. It is strange how different things can appear in the light of day. The ice-house looked as it had always looked yet now for the first time I noticed the stone structure near it. I wondered why I had never noted it before. I stopped by the side of it and fished beneath my skirts for the lantern and pulled the matches from a small pocket at my waist.

   Maud stood and watched me, I thought perhaps with a little impatience. I struck a match and carefully lit the wick of the lantern. I turned it down so the flame blossomed bright and clear without flicker. I set it down on the stone wall and heaved the entry slab aside. And then I froze.

   "Miss Maud!" my voice was urgent and cracked, "Maud!" I nearly shrieked it such was the fright upon me.

   She came at that up beside me and I thought that had it not been for the stone wall as a support she would have swooned dead away. I looked at her, at her gloved hands clasping like claws at the stonework. She met my eye and I think perhaps for the first time I saw the true Maud hidden in those depths.

   "He is gone," she said.

   "Fuck!" I said and Maud did not scold me for the use of such a word. No doubt she was thinking it but was too much a lady to speak it.

   "What ever shall we do; what if some mad surgeon came across him and stole him away for dissection?" A horror constricted her face.

   "That must be it, Miss, there are dozens of mad surgeons wandering the Briar grounds, ain't there?" She must have been mad herself to think such a thing. I took a breath to calm the beating of my heart and the shaking of my hands. I swallowed and brushed at a few wisps of hair.

   "He can't have got far and the slab had not been moved, that means…" I trailed off glaring into the darkness down the stone steps. Sure enough, in the weak light the penetrated the gloom I could see the metal barred gate hung ajar on its hinges. "He has gone inside, Miss."

   "But how? I killed him, you saw it Sue; you saw his corpse and carried it in a barrow to this very spot. How could it be that he has risen now from such a deadly blow?" Her voice was touched by panic.

   "Perhaps it is his ghost, Miss," I said and wished I hadn't the moment the words were out of my mouth for Maud went a deathly pale.

   "Don't even think it, Sue."

   I turned to her and grasped at her hands. Her fingers seized mine almost painfully.

   "Come now, Miss, you know there ain't no such things as ghosts." I brushed at her cheek with the back of my fingers, "You must not have knocked him as hard as you thought and he's wandered in an overcome state not knowing what he is about. We'll go after him."

   "And when we find him, what shall we do with him?" Her voice had calmed and turned cold.

   She was right, what would we do with him once we found him? I daren't think. If Maud could kill him once, could she do it a second time?

   "Let's find him first, Miss," I said, pulling my fingers from her and taking up the lantern. I set foot on the stone steps and made my way slowly into the darkness. The iron grill was indeed ajar, but only to create space enough for a man. Maud and I could not pass with our skirts so I passed the lantern to her whilst I hauled on the metalwork. It budged with a dull scraping shriek against the stone. Cool, dank air wafted upwards from what appeared to be a passage of sorts. I passed through into darkness and reached out for the lantern from Maud whilst she followed behind.

   I had thought the lantern would be enough light. I was wrong; the small flame lit only a glowing yellow circle about me. I turned up the wick and light flared. The passage was lined with stone and a dark moss had grown in the dampness so the walls appeared almost alive. The ground was soft and slightly muddy and sucked at my boots as I ventured forth.

   I felt Maud's hand on the back of my skirt. She clung there as if afraid of loosing me. I held the lantern high and took perhaps a dozen steps when we heard it. It was a low, moaning wail the kind you might expect to hear in the Chamber of Horrors at the wax works. It made my blood run cold. Maud had reeled me in and now clung against my back, her breath hot against my ear.

   "Is it Richard, can you see him?" she asked, her voice quavered.

   I licked my lips and staggered forward a few paces; Maud stuck to me like a limpet.

   "Sue?"

   "I can't see him, Miss, this place does echo something fierce though. We shall come upon him shortly no doubt." I extricated her from me as I could not walk with her clung like that. She settled for clenching my hand in hers and keeping close.

   The noise came again, closer. It bounced off the walls and echoed about our ears. A drip of something foul from the stone ceiling hit against my shoulder and Maud shrieked.

   "Dear God," Maud whispered after a moment, and had I been partial to praying, I might have said the same. For there we saw him in the lamp light.

   He was crumpled against the wall as if fallen down drunk. His legs were splayed out in front of him. He would have looked at home in a doorway in Lant Street. But it was his face that frightened me more. His thick hair was plastered about it, tangled in his whiskers and at his temple and forehead had risen purple lumps like boils fit to burst. He raised a trembling hand to his eyes against the light.

   "Leave off, you bastards; haven't you done poor Freddy enough damage? That coin was good; an old tart gave it to me for a fucking. She was in a fever for it, what was a lad to do?" His words were coarse and slurred.

   I looked at Maud, she looked at me, "He has lost his wits," she said.

   I breathed a sigh and tried to smile, "Who are you, Sir?"

   Richard squinted at me, "Now there's a pretty thing. I suppose you've come for a fucking from Freddy too? But as you can see," here he raised his arms in a gesture, "I am quite indisposed."

   I tugged at Maud's arm, "Then I think perhaps we should leave you until you are feeling better." I turned to go pulling Maud with me. We wasted no time in escaping. We could hear Gentleman shouting behind us. When we reached the barred gate I secured it and we replaced the slab of stone.

   "He's mad as a hatter, Miss," I said through gasps of breath. Maud paced about beside the ice-house.

   "I must speak to my uncle." She looked at me with an expression of hope, "Don't you see, Sue? It is easy. I tried to find Richard to give him my uncle's message but he was nowhere to be found. I thought perhaps that he had gone for a walk so you dressed me for the occasion and went to seek him out. We took our regular route, but when we reached the ice-house we heard the most horrid shrieks and cries. Thinking perhaps someone lay injured we followed the calls and happened upon Richard in the state in which we found him. Fearing for our safety we left him and sought out my uncle immediately for he of course would know what to do." She grinned and grabbed at my shoulders pulling me to her in an embrace.

   "It could work," I said slowly.

   “You must go and take the lantern to Richard so my uncle will think he had taken it."

   I shook my head, "I ain't going back down in there, not for love nor money."

   She pulled back from me and searched my eyes, "Not even for…" she trailed off.

   I swallowed. That thing in my chest had leaped again, lurched and tried to strangle me, "For what?" I managed with a weak smile.

   She dropped her hands and turned from me. Her shoulders hunched and she chewed at the thumb of her glove.

   "You must hate me," she said, "for putting you through this."

   I snorted, "I have reason enough to hate you already."

   "And I you, Susan Trinder."

   That was a blow, like the shock of cold water they throw over you when you are in a faint. I had not expected her to use my name, although I should have expected she knew it. She knew everything else about me.

   "And I suppose you are going to dob me in to your uncle too, after I've helped you get out of this mess, eh?"

   She shook her head, "I couldn't."

   "You have become fond of me no doubt." I was about to say more when a shriek from below ground startled us both. Richard had struggled to the iron grill and was rattling at the iron.

   "You fucksters!" he shrieked, "You can't lock up poor Freddy!"

   "Quickly now," she said, taking the lantern from me. She threw it down the stone steps so it fell with a clatter against the bars. The glass shattered, oil leaked and set alight. Richard howled as the bright flame shot up, "We must go to my uncle."

   "Mad, you say?" For once Mr Lilly looked up from his ledger, his black tongue snaking out in a form of sneer.

   "Completely raving, uncle. He does not even know his own name and…and he has done himself harm. I…I fear it is my fault." Maud's eyes were wide as she spun the tale. She was first frightened and then shamed.

   "Why, did you harm him, Maud?"

   "I…I spurned him, uncle. Last night, he declared himself to me. He…he wanted to elope, to run away to London and marry me without your consent. I told him I could not do such a thing, that my work here was too important, that…that I did not love him."

   A tear now escaped her eye and I looked at her from my place by the door. She should have been in London alright. She should have been on the stage commanding an audience.

   "Hmm…" Mr Lilly stood and came 'round from behind his desk to look Maud in the eye. "Is that what you were doing up in the middle of the night, spurning a gentleman's love?"

   Maud blushed a deep crimson, "Yes, uncle."

   Mr Lilly chuckled to himself. It was an evil sound. "Well," he said, "we shall have the legacy of only one lunatic at Briar, Maud, your mother. Send Mr Way to me. I shall send him to London. I know of some gentlemen there by the name of Christie and Graves who may be interested in Richard Rivers. Mania brought on by the temptations of the female sex is a particular interest of theirs."

   Maud met his eye and her chin jutted, "I did not tempt him, uncle, not in the way you imply."

   Mr Lilly snorted and put down his nib with care, "He saw what you were, Maud, you did not have to do anything."

   "And what am I, uncle, save for what you have made me?"

   "Aside from that? Why, my dear Maud, you are nothing."

   It was said so matter of fact that I did not catch the meaning right away and then when I did catch it, I began to hate Mr Lilly worse than before. Maud only bowed her head and mumbled.

   "He is by the ice-house, in the structure. He must have wandered and become trapped. We locked him there, Sue and I, afraid he might run off."

   All colour drained from her uncle's face. He staggered a moment and steadied himself with a hand on his table.

   "By the ice-house, you say? He cannot be there."

   Maud frowned, "Should I fetch Mr Way now, uncle?"

   "No! No, fetch no-one. I will go to him myself, directly. You must stay here."

   Mr Lilly took a small key from out his waistcoat and fumbled it in the lock of his desk drawer. He pulled forth a wooden box and upon opening it there lay a revolver. I put a hand to my mouth and must have given a small gasp for Maud glared at me and I fell silent.

   "What are you going to do?" she asked with a tremor in her voice.

   She watched as her uncle broke the gun and loaded in fresh rounds to the cylinder. I had seen plenty of firearms come through Mr Ibbs' hands for either melting down or selling on and knew by the look of it that Mr Lilly held a piece by a company now selling to the Confederate States of America. I could hear Mr Ibbs' voice in my head, 'It's a Tranter, Suky, that sounds like your name, dunnit?' and he would laugh.

   I was not laughing. I believe I began to shake. Maud came to stand beside me and I grasped at her hands, more to calm myself than her.

   "What are you doing, uncle?" she asked again and he fixed her with a cold stare.

   "I'll not have him there, mad or sane, that place is no business of his."

   "Surely you do not mean to kill him?" Maud asked the colour from her blush had drained from her face.

   "I mean,” he said snapping the cylinder back in place, “to defend myself against a mad man." And with that he strode from the room a purpose to his step.

   I looked at Maud, she looked at me. Something unspoken passed between us.

   "We must follow him," she said.

   "Your uncle said to remain here."

   "My uncle is as mad as Richard. What if he should kill him?"

   "You killed him," I said, "without a thought about it."

   She gave me a look, and I thought my heart would burst. She looked at me, at my lips, my neck, my chest that heaved beneath my brown stuff dress and she took a step. She took a step so that I was against the library wall. Without her crinoline she was close, as close as my skin which leapt with fire where her breath touched. She took off her gloves, letting them fall to the floor beside the brass finger and raised a hand to my face. She traced the outline of my brow, my cheekbone, my lip with a delicate touch. If I had begun to shake at the site of the revolver, I now trembled.

   "I did think," she said softly, smoothing at my hair, "I thought, 'I am a little in love with Susan Trinder, how might I find a way to save her from her fate?'."

   She kissed me. She kissed me as I had kissed her, though her touch was flame. I must have made some small noise, a squeak or moan for she pushed against me. Her hands moved, first to my shoulders, then against my breast where they lingered and I thought I would swoon from her embrace. I grabbed at the wall to steady myself. I grabbed at the wall and it gave out, sending the two of us tumbling against each other down a narrow set of stairs.

   We came to rest in a commotion of skirts, arms and legs. I could not breathe for Maud lay atop me. We struggled a moment and managed to right ourselves. The place was dark. I could see the rectangle of light above us from where we had fallen. I could feel Maud's breath on me and her words echoed in my ears. Had she truly said she had killed Richard for the love of me? I might have questioned her, I might have said it back, everything might have changed in that very moment save for the sound of a pistol shot that cracked towards our ears.

   "What was that?" Maud asked. I could see but a shadowy outline of her face in the dim light.

   "A shot, Miss," I said, "perhaps this passage leads to the ice-house. Look here," I said; having found a bracket against the wall that housed a candle stub. I took the matches out from my dress pocket and struck one against the wall. Bright light flared about us a moment, then the flame guttered and threatened to go out. I managed to light the stub and the old wax spat and crackled as dust burned. The flame finally settled with only a slight flicker from a draft that wafted from further down the passage.

   "What should we do?" she asked. Her hand had found mine in the yellow light of the candle. It was warm and felt strange and oddly alive without her glove.

   "We cannot stay here, Miss," I said, "Perhaps we should follow your uncle after all, but down this passage and see where it leads."

   I took the candle stub from out the bracket and held it above me. It gave off little light, but in was enough to see the slight slope of the passage downward. I started moving and Maud, still clutching my hand, was forced to follow.

   We walked for what felt like several minutes when we heard shouts and another shot, much closer.

   "You cannot catch Freddy!" came the cry.

   The passage took a sharp turn to the left and opened out somewhat. On rounding the turn we could see him. In the pale yellow light he looked like some evil spectre, hunched and sweating. Behind him ran Mr Lilly, his pistol arm outstretched.

   "Quickly Miss," I said with a gush of breath, "here there is a door." It was wooden and sat on rusted hinges. I gave it a thump with my shoulder and the rotted wood gave out.

   "Ho! You fiend!" shouted Mr Lilly and another shot rang out. There was a cry and a crump of a falling body. Mr Lilly's steps came on, passed the fallen form of Richard and to the doorway of the room where Maud and I now stood.

   "No!" cried Mr Lilly, and it was only now that Maud and I looked about.

   The room was close and a thick dust had settled. There was a bed, a bureau and a chair upon which a gowned figure sat, mouldering. Upon the figure's wrist there was a manacle and chain. I followed with my eye the chain to a bracket in the wall where it was bolted. I guessed at the length of it and figured there was enough to walk about the room but no more.

   Maud choked and I thought her about to swoon for she had spied something on the bureau. She picked it up and rubbed at the dust. It was a hair brush and monogrammed on the back were a set of initials. She walked to her uncle and thrust the brush in his face.

   "M.L.," she said softly, "Marianne Lilly." She pointed to the mouldering form in the chair and said the name a little louder, "Marianne Lilly." Her gaze was a fire and the hulking form of her uncle seemed to shrink from it.

   He cocked his head slightly and his black tongue snaked. He shifted his gaze over Maud's shoulder to the chair by the wall.

    "You have found me out a villain, Maud," he said and raised the pistol to his temple.

   It had been two days since Mr Lilly shot himself. I didn't know bullets could make such a mess. Gentleman was not dead, only injured but still as daft as a brush. We had to call in the blues such was the jumble of death and madness. I must admit I was nearly mad myself with it all. Maud was calm, like someone had reached in and settled her. She vouched for me, perjured herself she called it. All I knew was that they drug Gentleman off to a sanatorium and believed Maud when she said her uncle had killed himself upon the discovery of his sister. Why would they not believe her? She was a lady after all and it was discovered that her uncle had perverted tastes and habits. Maud admitted to the police that she had been forced to work for him in fear of her life. One look inside that dusty room where Marianne Lilly had sat chained convinced the blues of her innocence in any part of the goings on at Briar.

   So after two days I was free of the Borough and Gentleman for good and Maud was free of her uncle and the legacy of her mother. It felt strange, like a snail that has lost its shell, all slick and exposed, waiting for death.

   "Did you mean it?" I asked softly one evening. Maud was sorting through her uncle's books. She was going to sell them, for with her uncle gone and his estate tied up with solicitors, there was no income to be had.

   "Mean what, Sue?"

   "What you said, that you were in love with me?" My heart had grown small and hard with the need to know it.

   A wry smile came upon Maud's lips, "What difference would it make?" she asked, "Who would want me now? I'm not even what my uncle-"she stopped and shook her head, "what my uncle made me."

   "It dun't matter what he made you if you meant what you said," I made a step towards her but she fended me off with an outstretched hand. She had burned all her gloves the day before watching them blacken and shrivel in the fire grate. Seeing the cold paleness of her palm made me shiver.

   She gave me a look, "I meant it," she said and my heart swelled, "I meant it before all this."

   "And now you don't," my voice was small and my heart smaller.

   "How can I? Everything has changed. You are right, it doesn't matter."

   "I ain't changed and what matters is here," I laid a hand above her heart, "and here," I laid another over my own heart. She pulled away from me.

   "Please don't touch me," she said, "I couldn't bear it," I heard tears in her voice.

   "I've spent the last several weeks touching you, Maud."

   "Not like that."

   "Like what?"

   "Like you want to."

   That made me angry, "And what if I do? What if I do want to touch you, and kiss you and…and fetch you? Would you still not want it; would you still think it dun't matter?" My voice had risen and colour had sprung to my cheeks. She had fired me up and I would have an answer from her.

   She turned to look at me and it was such a look.

   "Why would you want that?" she said, and her voice was tight.

   "Because I love you, damn you. Lord knows I've tried not to, but there ain't a bleeding thing I can do about it." I stood there trembling not quite believing what I had said.

   "Yes there is, you could go away."

   "I said I wouldn't leave you."

   "A maid's devotion."

   I snorted, "I was never a maid to you. I might have played at it, but that don't make me no maid."

   "Out of pity then."

   "The only pity around here is your own."

   She opened her mouth to speak but closed it again. She folded her arms and turned from me once more. Her silence and shoulders were worse than her words.

   "I didn't mean-" I began, but she cut me off.

   "No, no, you are quite right. Why don't you just go and leave the self-pitying girl to herself then?"

   "Maud-"

   "Leave me alone!" she shrieked. Her eyes were wild and burned with a fever. I cowered against her look, her words. I began to quake as if my very foundation had been torn and a great emptiness threatened to swallow me.

   "Is that truly what you want?" I managed. My breath came in gulps and Maud looked at me in horror.

   "No! No, Sue, no," she shook her head and a tear drizzled from her eye, "I don't want that. I'd never want that. I don't know what I want. I'm frightened."

   She'd said that before and I had saved her. Should I fall again, like a pigeon?

   "Maybe you need to be frightened," I said, and out of spite I pulled a piece of yellowed paper from my out my sleeve. I had found it in the room where her mother was chained and imagined it to be the woman's final words. I was going to keep it secret, but I wanted to hurt Maud then, "Read it, it's your mother's," I said and threw the thing at her. It fell to the floor and Maud bent to pick it up. She caught me with a sharp eye and my chin jutted.

   The paper was stiff and mildewed in places; dust fell as she opened the seal. As she read her face changed. Finally she sank to a chair, the parchment quivering in her hand.

   "Oh Sue," she said and began to weep. I smiled, perhaps she was feeling a little of the hurt she had made me feel. At length she took a deep breath and straightened her back. "I can't stay here," she said.

   I frowned, "What's that mean? What did the paper say?" I snatched it from her but could make no sense of the swirling lines of faded ink. "Read it to me," I demanded.

   "I don't think-"

   "Read it!" I held the paper out and finally Maud took it. She cleared her throat and began to read.

   It has been six weeks since I gave up my child. I do not know where the other is, save to say my brother has done something with it. My Susan is safe. She will grow up with love and warmth of family that I never had.

   I have been kept here by my brother chained like an animal, like a beast to do his bidding. He brings me food and pages of his damned index to scribe. I am nothing to him, kept worse than a convict.

   He leaves me to these cold, stone walls and my small tallow candle. My bed is like a grave, and it is here that I think of what might have been if Jonathon had not abandoned me to my ruin.

   Jonathon Trinder. He was beneath my station, but I thought him a good man, with dark hair and amber eyes that glowed with a fire. He had come from Gloucestershire to work for my father; to tend the Briar coaches. You had never seen a sturdier wheel than had been tended by my Jonathon. I still call him that and hold out some hope that he will come for me. Yet he had quit Briar when he discovered I was with child. I had tried to find him. I wrote letters to the address on his character but got no reply.

   So came the time when I could no longer hide with hoops the condition set upon me. My maid was silent and loyal. She had been with me since I was a young girl and had seen the worst with me. So I gave her money, more money than she would earn in five years in service. She disappeared the night before I did.

   I went to London, to the Borough; for I had heard there were women there who helped troubled girls. I had waited too long. I could not be helped, not even by Grace Sucksby. The child that grew in my belly would be born though I would be damned if it should live as I.

   My father and brother found me out and claimed me, but not until I had cheated them; not until my baby was safe in a box beneath a table with a dozen other screaming, toothless things and Grace Sucksby's own child in my arms. I had needed a hard bargain to do it, but it was done. She had thought her Maud would be raised a lady. I did not have the strength of heart to tell her what kind of lady my brother would make of her.

   It was done six weeks ago and now I wait to die.

   Everything was still, only the sound of our breathing filled the room. I swallowed, "Did you read it right?" I asked although I knew she had.

   Maud nodded and looked at me. I let out a breath I did not know I had been holding.

   "Oh," I think I may have raised a hand to my throat for there was a stoppage somewhere close to my heart, "Something of a shock, ain't it?"

   Maud couldn't speak. Her hands clutched at her skirts and she began to shake. I did not know what to think but the only thing that echoed in my mind was that name, Jonathon Trinder.

   The Briar bell tolled the hour and Maud and I both jumped at the sound of it. It was ten o'clock.

   "I can't stay here," Maud said again. Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper, like what you get before you cry.

   "Maud-"

   "I can't stay here," she said it louder this time; and then she ran.

   I stood there dumb for a moment before I found my reason and went after her. I followed the sound of her steps down the corridor and stairs in the darkness that was Briar at night. I did not think to find a lantern or even a candle. I only thought of Maud. I heard the main doors of the house slam for she had vowed never to lock them like Mr Lilly. I followed her outside. The moon was up and in the glim light I saw her running down the gravel drive from the house.

   "Maud!" I shouted after her but she would not stop. So I hitched my skirts and stretched my leg. I caught her finally near the graveyard and clasped a hand to her shoulder. My breath came in heaves.

   "Where are you going?" I managed.

   "It was all a lie," she spat, her own breath gasping, "this was a lie." She found out Marianne Lilly's head stone and grabbed at it. The harsh stone would graze her bare hands and I tried to pull her back but she had the strength of the 'sterics upon her and she pushed me away. She latched to the stone with claw-like hands and hauled on it. The stone shifted, and soil buckled. She heaved again and the slab went over, taking her with it. It must not have been very deep in the ground. She lay there, panting on the fallen stone before the tears came.

   I watched her. I let her tears fall until finally she calmed herself.

   "Why do you stare at me?" she asked. Her tears glistened brightly on her cheek in the moonlight.

   I crouched down by her and brushed the back of my fingers against her tears.

   "I'm nothing," she said, turning her face from me.

   "No…"

   "Nothing, nothing, nothing," it was said bitterly.

   "I love you."

   "Do you?" she snorted and it sounded like choking, "I'm Grace Sucksby's daughter, what is there to love now? I didn't know anything," she said and met my eye.

   The meaning in that look was clear. I frowned and shook my head, "You don't think that I-"

   "Why else would you be here, if you didn't know?"

   "It…it was Gentleman…Mr Rivers, his plan to swindle you." I reached out for her but she swayed from my touch. "Maud, I swear, I didn't know a whisper of it. It was Mrs…" my words trailed off as I realised the truth of it. "It was Mrs Sucksby that agreed I should come," I finished dully.

   Mrs Sucksby knew; she knew it all along. Was Gentleman to fetch back her daughter; a lady, married, with a fortune and me in the madhouse none the wiser? The woman who raised me; the very idea of it!

   "Oh!" I shrieked and clasped my hands to my breast for a pain had come; a horrid, gripping pain. "Oh what a mark I am!"

   My reaction must have persuaded her, for her look changed in the moonlight, "So, they lied to us both then."

   I nodded and settled myself on the grass by the fallen headstone. It was cold and I shivered.

   “Everyone lies, it’s what people do; small things, big things, all lies.” I stopped and thought how true it was. “Feelings ain’t lies,” I said looking at her, “you can say any words, but only feelings is straight.” Her hair had come loose and had fallen about her face. Her skirts were bunched up about her and all askew. “Feelings is what makes things real,” I said.

   “Don’t.”

   I smiled and took her hand. The stone had grazed her.

   “What have we got but feelings and each other now, eh?”

   She looked at her hand in mine, “You’ve got Briar. You’ve got everything I had and more.”

   “It’s just ink, Maud, just ink on an old bit of paper written by a woman sent mad by chains.”

   “I believe it.”

   “Believe it then, but it ain’t to be proved. I don’t want the things that were your-“

   “They were never mine,” she said, “not truly.”

   I smiled at her and raised her hand to my lips to kiss the palm. Her arm was stiff but she did not stop me. Her flesh was chill and my breath warmed her.

   “I don’t want things, Maud…” I paused and kissed at the flesh again, “I want you.” I felt the words sink down in me as I said them. It was a feeling. It was true.

   “Why?” she breathed and I knew my words had touched her. Her hand had warmed and I was certain if I could have seen, a flush would have sat on her cheek.

   “I don’t know,” I said and frowned

   I saw her teeth in a half smile and shifted to her. She wanted more, needed reassurance when her whole world had just ended I ran my fingers down the side of her cheek, my thumb against her lip. I heard her breath catch; saw her eye grow shadowed. “I need you,” I said again, “because it is right.”

   My fingers moved lightly across her cheek and down to her throat. I felt the gush of her blood, heavy beneath her skin so I pulled her to me ‘til our breath mingled.

   “I want you,” I whispered and her breath rushed against me. “I need you,” I said and touched my lips to hers. There was lightness and a clinging of flesh. She did not move away so I leaned, I reached and pressed more firmly. My hand went to her cheek and held her. Her breath fell on me thickly and I questioned. The answer was raw and so sharp that my heart rose and fell at the same time, like falling in a dream. I parted from her and met her eye.

   “I meant it,” she said, “every word.” She looked to her lap, to her skirts, to her hands. “I love you,” it was a whisper, a phantom, but I heard it.

   I must have smiled such a smile for she smiled back.

   “Maud,“ I said and pulled her to me. Our embrace was fierce and wanton and I could not help but push her back to the grass.

   “Will you come with me now,” I said slowly over her, “back to the house?”

   She looked at me and swallowed. I thought perhaps I saw a shudder that ran through her for my voice was thick and heavy. She nodded finally and allowed me to help her to her feet. We were both shaking and a little breathless. I do not think either of us expected what had taken place or the words that were spoken.

   "Come with me now," I said and took her hand in the dimness. She followed me with only a slight backward glance to the fallen grave stone.

   The foyer was bright and a stern Mrs Stiles stood guard. I frowned, it was late, nearly eleven o'clock. Had she been watching at the window? Had she seen what Maud and me were about? Maud turned as white as a sheet when she caught the look on Mrs Stiles' face. I gripped her hand to calm her.

   "You have a visitor," Mrs Stiles said and clamped shut her thin lips.

   "At this hour?" Maud managed.

   "Indeed, Miss, but the visitor is for Miss Smith." She looked at me when Mrs Stiles said my name and I felt the coldness of her eye.

   "For me?" I raised a hand to my throat and tried to smile, "At this hour?" I knew the words sounded dim-witted, for Maud had said the same a few moments before, but no other words came to me. All I could think was that Gentleman had come out of his stupor and sent madhouse doctors to fetch me.

   "Who is it, Mrs Stiles?" Maud saved me.

   "Wouldn't give her name and I wasn't going to give her a bed without it. Looks Miss Smith's type though," she gave me a sneer. "Sent her to the drawing room. I hope she hasn't pinched anything."

   "Thank you, Mrs Stiles, Miss Smith and I shall see to the visitor directly," Maud glanced at me as Mrs Stiles tossed her head and looked down her nose. The woman needed taking down a peg or two.

   The drawing room was dim when we entered. In her stinginess, Mrs Stiles had allowed only one lamp to be lit and I saw the outline of a figure stood by the window. The figure turned. It was Dainty! I rushed to her and held her fast.

   "Oh Dainty," I cried, for I was truly please to see her. She pushed me back and stared into my face with troubled eyes that were rimmed in red. She'd had a beating, most like from John Vroom and a red welt graced her cheek.

   "You've caused no end of trouble," she said and wrung her hands. She looked over my shoulder and spied Maud hovering near the door.

   "Oh Dainty, may I introduce Miss Maud, mistress of this house?" I made sure I said it right, more for Maud than for Dainty. "Miss Maud, this is a dear friend of mine, Dainty."

   "Miss," Dainty said and dropped a curtsey far more practiced than my own.

   "Welcome to Briar, Dainty," Maud said, acknowledging the curtsey with a dip of her head. "We have no secrets here, not any more. Whatever you have come to say to Sue, you may say before me." She paused a moment and whispered, "I won't tell, I promise."

   Dainty smiled. It was hard not to smile at Maud. Then she licked her lips and looked at me. I nodded.

   "It's been ever such a long journey from London," she began.

   "Have you been offered nothing?" Maud sounded horrified and went immediately to the bell pull beside the door. She tugged on it and a few moments later Mrs Stiles appeared. She must have been stood in the kitchen staring at the bells that hung there waiting for the drawing room to ring.

   "Mrs Stiles, if you could be so kind as to bring some refreshment for our travel-weary friend? Some sandwiches, I think, and a decanter of brandy as a bracer."

   Mrs Stiles' thin lips became thinner. I am sure Maud took this as a call to taunt her further.

   "And send Charles to light the fire. This room is chill."

   "Mr Lilly would not have entertained at such an hour," Mrs Stiles mumbled.

   "Mr Lilly is dead. I am mistress here and I do not propose to have a woman just up from London sent to bed hungry and cold. That would be most inhospitable, Mrs Stiles, and unworthy of this house, would it not?"

   Mrs Stiles opened her mouth and nothing came out, then finally, "Yes Miss," before she dropped the slightest of curtseys and turned on her heel.

   I laughed. I couldn't help it. Maud flashed her teeth in the lamp light and Dainty looked more confused than ever.

   "Come sit, Dainty," I said and pulled her to a sofa, "so much has changed."

   "I should say," Dainty muttered and looked between Maud and me. "You have to come to London, Sue."

   "Why?" I breathed.

   "There is trouble. The blues came hunting after Gentleman, but found him in a madhouse. Lost his memory or some such thing. He's not a gentleman at all, but the draper's son. Mrs S nearly dropped dead when she heard. She's sent me to fetch you back, said you'd most like know why. She read about Mr Lilly in the papers, said everything was different now and she had to square it away with you."

   I looked at my hands. Charles came and lit the fire. Mrs Stiles brought chicken sandwiches and we all had a fat glass of brandy.

   "Is that all she said?" I asked.

   Dainty nodded around a mouthful of sandwich, "She said she couldn't tell me more than that, but she said she was sorry for all she had done…how she deceived you."

   I snorted and looked to Maud.

   "I should like to meet this mysterious Mrs S," Maud said, refilling tumblers with brandy.

   "Sucksby," I said, making sure she knew the name for what it was, her own.

   "Of course," Maud smiled and I knew she was a little tipsy, "I should like to meet this Mrs Sucksby, the penitent deceiver, but Sue shall not travel to London. I forbid it. What should I do without my maid? You, Dainty, must travel back tomorrow and fetch this woman here. I'll give you the money for the journey, you need not worry."

   "I'm…um…I'm not sure she'd do that, Miss."

   "If she wants to `square things' with Susan, then she shall. But for now, let us forget about Mrs Sucksby, the dead Mr Lilly and any troubles that may be on the horizon. I fear tonight that we must drink."

   I looked at her gone out, "Drink?"

   "Yes, Sue, drink until we cannot remember all the horrible things that have occurred here."

   I looked at Dainty and she shrugged, "I could do with an honest tipple," she said.

   I grinned. It was good to hear plain talk. "Alright then, I said and glanced at Maud, "Miss Maud, shall I fetch us some more drink or should we ring for Mrs Stiles?"

   Maud giggled, "Oh, I think we should ring," she said and hoisted herself to make for the bell pull.

   It was well after midnight and Mrs Stiles came in her robe and night cap. She looked like a horror from the stage and I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.

   "Ah, Mrs Stiles!" Maud shouted, "Forgive us, really, but please bring whatever spirits my dear departed uncle had ensconced. It is not often I entertain and I feel we must make the most of it."

   Mrs Stiles looked at the three of us, "There is some whiskey and port, Miss," she said.

   "Then bring it before we all die of thirst!"

   "Of course, Miss," Mrs Stiles grated between her teeth and shuffled from the room.

   "Oh Maud!" I said and clasped at her hand. Before I thought of it, I had raised her hand to my lips and kissed at the fingers.

   Dainty stared and I blushed.

   "A girl like you," she said, "I should've known it."

   "It ain't wrong, Dainty," I said.

   "'Course it ain't," she smiled, "just remember who taught you how to kiss."

   "Never!" Maud gasped.

   I blushed harder. I had forgotten, but I remembered now, "Oh good Lord…" I mumbled.

   Maud's eyes twinkled in the fire light, "I thank you for your instruction, Dainty. It has been useful."

   Dainty blushed then. I had never seen her colour from anything other than tears or toil and I was grateful.

   "I'm sorry, Dainty," I said.

   "'S'alright Sue, I knew you were made for better than me."

   "You get rid of that John Vroom," I said, "and find yourself someone right that don't beat on you."

   "Who's going to want me, eh? I pick out initials from `chiefs."

   "You'll find someone, Dainty, when you least expect it," Maud said and looked at me. I met her eye.

   "Perhaps," I said, "all three of us should go to London? How much money do you have, Maud, in ready?"

   She shrugged, "I can find out, there is a strong box in the library. My uncle keeps a fund there to pay for his books." She hurried then to the drawing room door to fetch the strong box from the library. She flung it open to find Mrs Stiles laden with whisky and port. Maud grinned and grabbed both decanters, "Thank you Mrs Stiles. You may be excused. We shall not require you further."

   The sour woman narrowed her eye and vanished, no doubt to tell debauched tales to the servants below stairs.

   We took the two decanters with us and cracked open the door to the library. I think perhaps Maud was frightened her uncle…my uncle…may have been sat there behind his desk, for she was silent and slinky. We crossed over the brass finger and I heard Dainty gasp.

   "My uncle was a purveyor of poisons," I heard Maud say, "but look, here is the strong box beside his desk. I do not have the key…" she trailed off.

   Dainty looked at me and winked. I took a swig of whisky from the decanter and made loose one of the pins that clung in my hair.

   "No trouble for a Borough girl," I said and set to the lock. After a few moments the catch gave and I threw back the lid.

   "Would you look at that," said Dainty and even Maud drew in her breath.

   "Count it," Maud said and Dainty grabbed up the bills. She rustled them and muttered.

   I'd wager that it was more money than any of us had ever seen in one place, more than the sweating of sovereigns or the picking of `chiefs would fetch in a dozen years.

   "There's nearly two hundred in ready," Dainty breathed.

   Maud blinked, "I wonder why I never thought of it before? Can we get to London and back on two hundred pounds?" she asked.

   Dainty's mouth dropped open.

   "I should think we could get to Paris and back and have a fine time doing it," I said.

   "So it's quite a bit then?"

   "I should say so, Miss," Dainty said.

   "You see, I only know how much these books are worth," she pointed to the shelves that lined the room, "but that's not real worth, is it?"

   I felt sorry for her. Not to know the value of money. Never to have bought a penny pie or swilled away the rent money. She might have been alive, but she had never lived.

   "We'll go to London," I said and took her hand, "and then you shall see what two hundred pounds can get you."

   We would go to London the following day and there we would confront Mrs S and see the outcome of the foolhardy swindle she had struck with Gentleman, for it must have been her invention. Dainty was placed in a guest room. She had never seen anything finer though the mattress was old and the curtains dusty.

   I smoothed a hand over the counterpane on Maud's bed. She was nervous now we were alone and fidgeted with her skirt.

   "What's the matter?"

   "Nothing," she said and fidgeted some more, "truly."

   "Is it me?" I asked and her head came up.

   "No! Not you. It is different."

   She was going to make me guess, "Going to London?"

   "Yes...and being in this room with you," she blushed.

   My lip twitched, "You've been in this room with me before."

   "But not quite like this."

   "Like what?" I rose and went to her then. I stood close so I could feel the warmth of her. She blushed harder.

   "Don't make me say it."

   "Are you afraid?" I asked and reached out a hand. I touched her hair and trailed my fingers down her neck to where it met her shoulder. Her skin was silk and I smelled the whiskey on her breath.

   "No."

   "I love you."

   She shuddered, "Why?"

   I smiled for she had asked me that before. I struggled to find the right words amid the jumble in my mind, "Because all the wrong don't count if you love me back."

   She nodded.

   "We'll make a go of it, eh?"

   "I've not been very kind to you, have I?"

   I looked at her and my heart ached. I couldn't have loved her more than at that moment. Her face was shadowed in the fire-light and soft. "Shh," I whispered and kissed at the palm of her hand before placing it about my waist. I stepped into her and rested my forehead against hers. I closed my eyes and I think a frown came upon me. She was so close and I touched my lips to hers lightly, just a breath that lingered. Neither of us moved, and when I opened my eyes I found hers damp upon me.

   "No tears," I said and turned her, my fingers brushing against her arms, her shoulders to find the clasps that bound the back of her dress. I had undressed her many times, but this was unlike any of those. This time I touched with a lover's hands, each movement measured and with meaning.

   "Sue," she said and steadied herself against the mantle by the fire to step from her dress, "I have no-one, truly I do not."

   "You have me," I said it slowly with a softening eye but she shook her head.

   "Is that real or a matter of circumstance? I don't understand."

   "It ain't to be understood, it just is and you have to trust it," I said and brushed back her hair from her face.

   "How am I to trust it when I do not trust myself?"

   How could I tell her all the reasons? I took her face in my hands and drew her to me. I kissed her strong and held her there, "Do you feel it?"

   “Yes.”

   "Then that is what you must trust, it's you and me now what matters, nothing more than that."

   "But what of London?"

   I looked at her and saw the truth of her question, "You think me like Gentleman, that I would swindle you now I know who I am. I've never had no money save that I could get for myself, and look, we are in the same place, ain't we? I don't need no fortune, Maud, to know that I love you."

   "Oh Sue."

   "Shall I hold you?" I asked, though my blood was up at the sight of her.

   She nodded.

   "C'mere then." I moved to the bed in my under things and she followed. I drew back the counterpane and settled her. I climbed in and pressed my body to hers as one spoon might lie against another in a fine cutlery case. My arm I draped about her waist and settled beneath her breast. I kissed at her bare shoulder, "There now," I said and allowed my breath to drift across her flesh.

   "Is love so different to desire?" she asked.

   "How can you desire something unless you love it?"

   "Do you desire me?"

   I swallowed and kissed again at her shoulder, "Maud."

   She shuddered, "Touch me, please," her voice was small and I did nothing but raise my hand to trail my fingers against her arm and down her waist.

   She turned then within my arms and looked at me in the fire-light. Her lids were heavy and I thought her near sleep but something burned there. Her hand came up and those slender fingers touched at my face. They moved across my brow, my cheek, my lips.

   "You're quite a beauty," she whispered and that something lurched, my breath caught and warmth settled. I did nothing but lie there allowing the luxury of her touch to travel against my skin, beneath the thin cotton of my chemise, against my breast. I must have made some small sound, for she pushed me to the mattress and loomed above me. Her hair was loose and drizzled about her face onto my shoulders. Her eye was dark and her lips full. She leaned, she descended. Her kiss was soft and slow and it burned, pulling at the thread that joined us.

   My breath was lost, I gasped and drew my hand to her back, pressing her to me. She sank and melded against me, her lips against the skin of my neck where my blood beat thickly. I was smothered in the feel of her, her warmth, her touch. There were no lies, no secrets. Tomorrow we would go to London with Dainty, yet tonight I would yield to her alone.

   London would not be what Maud thought it would be, so I smiled at the look on her face when she saw me stitching pockets on the inside of our skirts.

   "What on earth are you doing?"

   "We have to put the money somewhere, Maud, can’t go swanning about waving fistfuls of notes, we’ll get rolled and left for dead."

   "My God, to what kind of place are you taking me?"

   I laughed then and grabbed at her hand to kiss at the knuckles, "It’s called a city, it’s smelly, soaked in filth, choked in grime with most of the people not much better, but it’s the most wonderful thing you will ever see."

   Something shaded her eyes, "But what of the palace and the theatres, the rich hotels?"

   I nodded, "There’s those too, but not where we are going. Mrs Sucksby doesn’t live in a palace, she lives in a hovel." I sneered at the remembrance, so different to Briar.

   "That means you lived in a…"

   "Yes," I said, dropping my eye and blushing. I felt as if I had contaminated her in some way.

   "Oh Sue," she said and sat by me on the couch, "I’m so sorry for what your life has been like."

   One thing I cannot stand is pity, "Don’t you worry about what is past, Maud, everything is different now, eh? I’ve got you."

   "Yes," she brightened, "yes, that’s right. Look, here comes Dainty."

   I grinned and turned to see Dainty drop Maud a curtsy and hover on the far side of the room.

   "Come here then," I said and patted at the spare space beside me on the couch, "we’re a team now, the three of us."

   A broad smile split Dainty’s face and she collapsed beside me.

   "I’ve never had a better sleep, " she said.

   "That makes the three of us then," Maud said and blushed slightly.

   "I’m sure," Dainty cast me a sly look and I cleared my throat.

   "We should have the carriage readied for the station," Maud said and rose for the bell pull.

   Mrs Stiles appeared shortly and gave everyone a disapproving glare.

   "Mrs Stiles," Maud said, "could you have Mr Way inform Mr Inker to prepare the carriage, we are going to London, and we need to break our fast if Mrs Inker would not mind. We’ll eat in the kitchen."

   "The kitchen, Miss?" her look was horrified.

   "Yes, is something wrong? I think that would be the quickest for all of us, don’t you? We must to London in haste."

   "Yes, Miss," the woman said and disappeared.

   "There now," Maud grinned at the two of us, "have you finished with those pockets, Sue, so we may properly dress?"

   We breakfasted on warm pastries and fresh fruit. I am certain Dainty thought she had died and gone to heaven for she ate several of each and I saw her slip an apple into her skirt pocket. Maud, as usual picked at her food, though she did not flinch at the honeyed flakes that clung to her fingers. Rather she licked them clean with a lurid look that made me colour and Dainty giggle.

   "No guesses as to what you two got up to last night then, eh?" Dainty laughed in a loud voice.

   Behind us some crockery crashed.

   "Do be more careful, Mrs Stiles," Maud admonished with a smirk.

   I imagined the look of the woman’s face, the tale she would tell and smirked myself.

   Mr Way entered the kitchen then and stopped short when he saw us. He gave Maud a brief bow accompanied with a foul look. Clearly Maud was not welcome below stairs. Or perhaps he was more concerned with the whiskey and port that was now missing.

   "The carriage is ready, Miss," he said around thin lips, "Mr Inker will drive you to the station."

   "Thank you, Mr Way," Maud replied, licking the last of the honey from her fingers, "We shall be out shortly."

   "Very good, Miss," he paused and did not move on.

   "Yes?" Maud asked.

   "If I may be so bold, Miss, you are greatly changed since the death of Mr Lilly."

   Maud smiled, "Indeed I am, I am no longer under his yoke. Is it not best for a young girl to come into her own?"

   "Yes, Miss," he said and then after a moment, "if I may raise a small matter with you, Miss?"

   Maud looked at me and I gave her a near invisible nod for to me she was still mistress.

   "Of course, Mr Way."

   "I do not know how to say it but to say it plain, Miss. Mr Lilly, he, well, he has not paid his staff this last six months, not me, not Mrs Stiles, not the Inkers or poor Charles the knife boy."

   Maud grew ashen, "Not paid any of you?"

   "No Miss, he had been so engrossed with his work and what with Mr Rivers working for him, I think he quite forgot about it."

   "Why did you not raise this issue before?"

   "It didn’t seem fitting, Miss, what with what happened and all, but all of us have been tied to this house for half a year with no respite or means for folly. I do beg pardon, Miss, but it’s not right."

   Maud’s eyes narrowed. I knew what she was thinking. She had never been paid so much as a penny for her years of toil.

   "You are quite right, Mr Way. What is the total of what is owed?"

   "Fifty- five pounds, Miss," Mr Way said and reddened at the mention of the sum.

   "Fifty-five? Are you certain?" The shock was clear in Maud’s voice.

   "Yes Miss, twenty-two for myself, sixteen for the Inkers as a pair, eleven for Mrs Stiles and six for the knife boy."

   "For six months of service?"

   "Yes, Miss, it is standard, Miss."

   "Of course, leave us, would you? Tell Mr Inker to wait. See me in twenty minutes, Mr Way."

   "Yes, Miss," he said and moved through the kitchen gathering Mrs Stiles with some protest as he went.

   When the room was cleared Maud looked at me, "Fifty-five pounds for the whole of them for half a year?"

   "It don’t pay to make an honest living, Miss," Dainty spoke for me.

   "Indeed I can see it does not."

   "We could pay them now, Maud, with perhaps a little extra for loyalty," I said. It was no wonder Mrs Stiles was sour of face and of manner.

   "And that will leave us enough for London?"

   "Maud, even if we had twenty pound it would be enough for what we need," I smiled at her, "Give them a reason for having worked here so long."

   "Oh yes, Miss!" Dainty spoke up, "Do it just to see the look on Mrs Stiles’ face," she laughed at that for it was not really her place to say.

   Maud grinned, "Very well, I suggest paying the six months and half again with just a touch extra for Charles for having suffered Richard’s…behaviour. Shall we settle on a total of eighty-three?"

   Now it was my turn to grin, "Let’s count it out and get them all in here. We shall make a ceremony of it."

   "Do you think?" Maud asked.

   "Oh yes," said Dainty, who had never done a charitable thing in her life since she had not been able.

   "Then it is settled. Dainty, help me with these bills," Maud said as she delved into the pocked I had created in her skirt.

   All the servants were aligned like some military display, Maud stood and spoke, for she had been groomed for it.

   "Mr Way," she began, "I must thank you for bringing the neglect of Mr Lilly to my attention. From this day forward, no such neglect shall ever occur again. It was truly remiss of me not to have broached the subject prior. I have only my grief to blame. So as some small recompense, I therefore charge that the six months due is paid with an addition of three months as gratuity."

   I smiled as the servants stared at the money laid upon the table.

   "Gratuity, Miss?" Mr Way finally muttered.

   "Yes, for not seeking other employ whilst Mr Lilly was so lax in his affairs."

   "Thank you, Miss Lilly, but what of Miss Smith, she is surely due wage."

   Maud looked to me so I spoke, "I have already secured my wage, Mr Way," I said, patting the pocket in my dress.

   "One thing, Mr Way," Maud continued, "we shall be gone at least a week. I would like you to consider this time...a holiday."

   "Oh yes, Miss, thank you, Miss."

   Maud smiled, "Now, I think perhaps the carriage? And there is a trunk upstairs."

   With that the three of us were on our way to London where we would confront Mrs Sucksby about the trouble I had caused.

   Lant Street had become more foul in my absence, or perhaps I had become used to the finer things at Briar. It was the stink that got me first. I knew the stench like an old glove, but it was harsh to me now. I saw the look in the eyes of the people we passed, the dust woman, the rag and bone man, even the gin soaked woman who rented out rooms by the hour. I was near enough a stranger to them, though they looked at Maud worse. They looked at her like they wanted her to drop dead on the spot. Maud looked like she wanted to. I took her hand and she clutched at it like a drowning man might a piece of drift wood. I smiled at her; she didn’t smile back.

   Dainty had strode on with her long steps, happy, I suppose, to be back home. And then there we were, stood outside the only place I had lived before I met Maud.

   “Come on then!” Dainty called back to us, grinning from ear to ear.

   Maud looked at me, “It will be alright, won’t it, Sue?”

   My grip tightened on her hand, “’Course it will.”

   Dainty knocked at the door and after a moment or two it cracked open. A bulging eye appeared and the door was flung wide.

   “Where the bloody hell have you been?” John Vroom shouted and clobbered Dainty about the ear.

   “I’ve been where I’ve been told to be,” she shouted and clobbered him back for the first time. His head snapped to the left and a thin trickle of blood drooled from his lip. He raised a hand and wiped at the cut with the back of it. He looked at it a moment then raised his eyes to Dainty. She jutted her chin.

   “You’d better come inside,” he said before retreating to the dim interior.

       We assembled in the kitchen and Mrs Sucksby looked at all of us. Finally she settled on Dainty. She smiled and clasped her hands together, “Well,” she said, “I see you’ve brought both of them then.”

   Dainty fidgeted, “I couldn’t bring one without the other, Mrs S.”

   “Never mind, good girl, this’ll just have to be done a little different, then.”

   “Different?” I asked, “Ain’t this different enough? I thought you wanted to apologise for all what you’ve put me through.”

   A small laugh, “Of course, dear, but first there is someone you must see.”

   I frowned. Maud looked stricken and took a step from me. I looked at her but she shook her head. I turned to Mrs S, but there, in the doorway that led to upstairs stood Gentleman! His hair and whiskers had been dressed and he looked every inch his name. He stepped forward to lounge against the chimney breast.

   “Hello, Suky,” he said.

   “How?” I said and looked once more to Maud. She would not meet my eye.

   “Let me guess, she told you I accosted her in the library and she was defending her innocence?” He shook his head and moved towards me, his boot heels clunking against the boards.

   I held out a hand, my finger pointing, “You stay away from me,” then to Maud, “what have you done?”

   She shrugged, "I did what I had to do, Sue. I needed your trust, I couldn’t do it alone, and I needed to be rid of your uncle. Richard found your mother months ago, on his first visit to Briar, and hatched the plan. Either way your uncle would have killed himself or Richard would have done it and made it look self inflicted.”

   “But the blues?”

   Maud laughed, “Oh Sue, I would have thought you above all people…” she caught my look, “Men I paid to pose.”

   “The shot, he could have been killed for real.”

   “Mr Lilly was always a poor shot, too many books and not enough air,” she said with a shrug.

   “All a game?”

   Maud looked at me wryly, “The draper’s son is an excellent actor.”

   I stared at them all, “There never was a madhouse, was there?” Tears sprang to my eyes and I sank to the dusty floor.

   Maud shook her head, “No Sue, no madhouse.”

   “How long have you known? How long have you had this planned?”

   She smiled then, a secret, horrid smile, “Mrs Sucksby, my mother, wrote to me nearly two years ago. I didn’t believe her at first, I thought perhaps she might be mad.”

   Mrs Sucksby gave a laugh, “Mad dear? Far from it.”

   “But I think this was planned from our birth,” Maud continued.

   “So everything was a lie.”

   “Not everything”, said Maud and gave me a look.

   I gathered my skirts and stood, angry, “Why? What did you want from all this, Maud?”

   She came to me then and took my hands. I cringed at the feel of her.

   “I wanted all of us to be a family. We are a family, Sue. With Mr Lilly gone, my…your fortune will be released without marriage, and the entirety of his estate.”

   “It’s what we’ve all wanted, Sue,” said Mrs Sucksby, “we all want to leave this,” she looked around at the room, “with your help we can.”

   I shook my head and pulled from Maud. I stood by the hearth and poked with my toe at a wooden box containing an infant.

   “Don’t you want to help Dainty? Don’t you want to help Mr Ibbs? You can’t live like this forever,” Maud said coming close to me again. I looked at each of them in turn ‘til my eye settled on Maud. Her look was open. “Don’t you want to help me, Sue?

   I blinked, and in the blinking, in that moment of darkness it started to come clear and I almost began to believe her.

   End.