“Allof them? That’s an awful lotta dead people. ”
“You want them raising the alarm? The red cards first, though. And we’ll need you inside to help or we’ll never get out of here. Now start brewing tea. And give the laudanum a little help.”
Pip kept her silence, unable to breathe. She had run out of time.
Carefully setting her glass down on the counter, she slipped out of the kitchen and made for the quieting rooms. She was already having trouble breathing and she hadn’t even crossed the line yet. She was about to, though. She briefly closed her eyes and conjured up Beau to give her courage. Even though he wouldn’t have wanted her to be anywhere near this. Would he be proud of her if she succeeded, or even more angry?
“Barbara,” she murmured, opening her door. “It’s time.”
Miss Schroeder—Pip couldn’tnotthink of her as Miss Schroeder—climbed to her feet and settled down her dress.
“The guards are inside right now. I have a terrible feeling they are preparing to poison the women with laudanum and foxglove. You and the other women with red cards first. I need you to run for help. There should be a one-armed soldier sitting at the corner with a tin cup. He is here to help.”
Miss Schroeder brightened. “Braxton? Excellent.”
“If he isn’t there, I suppose you’ll need to get to a magistrate.”
“Don’t worry. I know exactly how to get a quick message to Diccan. What will you do?”
Pip let go of a frustrated laugh. “I don’t know. I have a knife and a small one-shot pistol to protect thirty ladies.”
“Let Mrs. Baxter out. She can hide in an outbuilding.”
Pip nodded. Miss Schroeder gave her a quick, hard hug and slipped out the door. “Be very careful. These are not good people.”
Pip’s smile was wry. “I already figured that out. Hurry.”
The last Pip saw of Miss Schroeder, she was running up the steps and out into a cold, overcast late autumn day. Pip hoped with all her heart that Kit was on his street corner. They didn’t have a moment to lose.
With that thought, she turned to Mrs. Baxter’s door and unlocked it.
* * *
Beau wasthe one who saw her first. He was bent over a bowl of soup when he spotted a familiar-looking woman step out of the asylum gate, her blond hair chopped-off and her attire a wrinkled, faded blue institutional dress and scuffed slippers. No coat, no bonnet, when the temperatures were barely above freezing.
“What’s she doin’ out there?” the publican demanded, stepping up to the window.
“Freezing herself, looks like.”
Grabbing his coat, he ran out of the pub. Across the street, Braxton saw him and looked up. Beau discreetly pointed. Braxton was on his feet in a minute.
“Good heavens,” Braxton said. “Barbara.”
She was shivering. Beau reached them and slipped his coat over her shoulders. A few pedestrians noticed the activity and slowed, but nobody wanted to get involved with any of those women, so eyes were turned away and people moved on.
“Come into the shop,” Braxton urged, and pulled them into the sweet shop that had been his backdrop.
She just nodded and followed. The proprietor inside took one look at the people who stepped through the door and disappeared into the back.
“A friend,” Kit said. “How did you get out?”
She was shivering, so Beau grabbed the owner’s stool and sat her out of sight of the window.
“Pippin Knight,” she said. “Told me to get help. The staff is about to murder everyone incarcerated by the Lion, possibly the entire population. I suspect they got news from one of the attacks.”
“They’re certainly more efficient than we are,” Kit retorted. “Haven’t heard a thing yet. How long do you think we have?”
She shook her head, her hands clutching the coat closed. “I don’t think very long. Especially if they come and find me gone. They know Pip has a key to the quieting room.”
