“There is one more place you may look,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. “If you cannot find him at the Blue Parrot, there is a place about two hours outside of London in the hamlet of Alfriston.”
“What sort of place?” she asked. “Is it similar to the Blue Parrot?”
William shook his head, the pity on his face growing more apparent.
“No, my lady. It is his mistress’s house. Her name is Penny, but I swear that is all I know.”
Bridget’s stomach dropped as her world began to churn. Courtesans, she could understand to a certain point—but amistress?A singular woman dedicated to receiving her husband’s affections? The news made her want to shrink in on herself in shame. Was there no end to her husband’s depravity? How low had this man been willing to sink?
She barely heard the directions William gave her; she only gave a numb nod as he finished. Then, without another word, she left, feeling William’s pity-filled eyes staring at her back.
“The day is drawing to an end, my lady,” Farley said as Bridget yet again exited the carriage. “Are you certain you do not wish to return home for the evening and renew your search tomorrow?”
Bridget glanced toward the orangish-red sun that was starting to set behind the large, identical brownstone buildings laid out before her, then shook her head. She had used the short ride to the Blue Parrot to gather her humiliation and self-pity and transform them into rage and determination.
“No,” she stated, “I have wasted too much time as it is.”
Farley sighed, but did not argue further.
“I must insist you still be careful, my lady,” he replied. “This part of London may look nicer, but it is just a ruse.”
Bridget nodded. She was beginning to understand that things were often not as they appeared. After all, she had spent her entire life pretending she was not lonely and sad, covering up such feelings with pretty gowns and expensive jewelry.
As she started yet another search, Bridget thought more about such things. Of all the time she spent attempting to be the perfect daughter to her guardians and the ideal wife to her husband. Where had such efforts landed her? What rewards were there to reap for hiding her feelings for the sake of others?
Becoming the laughing stock of London. That was what her reward was.
“Look at the pretty lady, mama,” Bridget heard as she walked down what she had thought was an empty street.
“Hush, child,” a woman softly scolded.
Bridget turned to the voices and felt a bout of guilt as she realized she had just walked past a woman and a child sitting in the street. While the East End had been abuzz with people, the neutral territory had been eerily empty. The two behind her were the first people she had seen since she started her search nearly half an hour ago.
“Apologies,” Bridget offered, doubling back to them. “I was so lost in my thoughts, I did not see you there.”
The young woman blushed behind the smear of dirt on her cheeks as she gave Bridget a canted smile.
“Ye have no need to apologize, Miss. We are used to not bein’ seen,” the woman replied.
Another bout of guilt slithered through Bridget as she shifted her eyes to the little girl. She placed her around the age of four. Her greasy hair had been tied into a messy braid, and her face was just as filthy as her mother’s. Even so, Bridget saw the beauty in the little girl’s freckled face.
Pain flashed through Bridget’s breast.Would this have been my future? Had I once been that little girl? What would my life have been like if my mother had not sold me into better circumstances?
“Are you lost, Miss?” The woman asked, holding out a tin cup. “Give us a penny or two, and we’ll be happy to help. This place can be a bit confusin’, as you see. What with how it looks all the same.”
Bridget immediately untied the purse strings from her belt and offered the entire sack to the woman, a sense of kinship rising in her with surprising fierceness. The woman’s green eyes grew wide as Bridget did so, but she did not take it.
“That’s too much, Miss. Ye will need that around here,” the woman replied.
“Please take it,” Bridget replied, urging the purse toward her. “I am in need of answers, and I am willing to pay for them. Go on. Take it.”
Though the woman still looked at Bridget hesitantly for another moment, she reached out a thin, bare arm and clutched her fingers around the purse. Then, as if someone was about to appear and take it from her, she brought it quickly to her chest and shoved it into the low bodice of her tattered dress.
“What do you need to know, Miss?” the woman asked.
Bridget took another look around the empty street.
“I am looking for a place called the Blue Parrot.”
