Head pounding, I took off my spectacles and sank into the cushions of the seat, sans wanting to slip into a crack.
I watched the blurs passing the window. The shapes—blobs of gray, swaths of burgundy—had to be the limestone and fired-brick buildings.
A long, throaty hoot. That was probably a barge floating down the Thames. That would make these next blobs warehouses.
The world wasn’t so scary in a closed, moving carriage with everything blurry.
In another twenty minutes, the carriage stopped at Blaren House.
I was thankful, so much closer to the truth.
I hadn’t fallen apart being away from the house.
Ester moved to the door first. “Put your spectacles on, Ruth. I’m not letting you out of the carriage if you don’t.”
“You are taking your duties as chaperone a little too much like Mama Croome.”
“I’m serious, Ruth.”
I flipped on my spectacles and followed Ester out of the carriage.
Blaren House.
Big. Wide green lawn. Huge chiseled stones. Stately. Elegant.
As we moved forward, something ran toward us.
Chest thumping faster, I stopped and pulled Ester behind me. I wouldn’t let my sister get hurt.
A woman ran past, clothes barely on her back. “He’s crazy!”
Other people ran past us as if Blaren House was on fire.
My sister tugged on my arm. “Ruth. It’s an upset. Let’s go. Let’s get back into the carriage.”
Asnap, acrackle, apop. These new noises rose over the screams.
More men, even a woman in black and white, fled down the limestone steps.
I planted my heels against the pavement. “It’s only an eviction, Ester. You’ve heard of them. Some of Papa’s workers have gambled away their wages. They lose everything.”
“Yes, my husband has stopped a few of those procedures for widows of Papa’s workers.”
This manicured lawn erupted like a brawl in a bawdy house. Incredible.
Anothersnap.
That sounded like a whip. It sounded as if it sliced the air into shreds.
My chest beat as if it had gone crazy.
If the Wilkinsons were evicted, I’d never find them.
A woman bumped into me. Scantily clad, perhaps draped in a sheet. “That man is crazed. Run for your lives.”
Cold sweat slipped down my neck, chilling my spine.
The openness hit me where I stood.
