London in Chains Read Online Free PDF Page A

keeping her angry eyes down. ‘I’m sorry if I displeased you, Aunt. I only hoped to be able to give you and my uncle something for my keep. You told me earlier that you’ve scarce enough.’
    â€˜Oh, a clever tongue! You should remember what the scriptures say: that the tongue is a fire and a world of iniquity. A woman should be humble and obedient and do as she’s told without argument!’
    â€˜As you did just now at supper?’ asked Lucy, looking up.
    There was a silence: Agnes seemed to swell with rage. ‘Well, you’ve got your way,’ she said at last. ‘I pray you don’t curse the day you won it!’ She turned and stamped back down the stairs.
    Lucy went on up to the loft, unnerved despite herself. It was growing dark and her eyes tried to tell her that there was a man hiding behind one of the bales of cloth, another waiting beside the chimneypiece. She stood still a moment, heart pounding, then made herself walk slowly from one end of the space to the other, proving that there was nobody there. She went again to the window and looked out: the sky still held the last of the daylight, but the streets were already black. For some reason the sight soothed her. Fear and anger both fell away and she was left with only the weariness of a long journey. She undressed to her shift and got into bed. She could smell Susan in the none-too-clean linen – a scent of onions, soap and old sweat; she could feel the shape the other woman’s body had worn in the flock mattress. She was too tired, though, to care much, and she snuggled under the thick blanket.
    She was just falling asleep when Susan came in, holding a candle. Lucy looked up sleepily at the maid, then moved over to the other side of the bed to make space for her.
    Susan set the candle down and undressed to her shift, hanging her skirt, petticoat and gown up on the nails. She blew out the candle and climbed into bed. Lucy felt the mattress shift, adjusting to the weight; the other girl’s shoulder brushed hers, colder than her own sleep-warmed skin. It was impossible to lie in Susan’s bed and ignore the fact that the maid, too, was being forced to share and that she must have her own view of the matter. Lucy wondered if she resented the intrusion, or if she’d looked forward to having another pair of hands to help her work.
    â€˜I’m happy to lend a hand, if it’s needed,’ Lucy said abruptly. ‘On a wash-day, like. And I can pick things up in the market and run errands. I don’t mind work. But I didn’t want to be maidservant to my mother’s brother and his wife, and if they were like to offer me tuppence a day for my labour, I never heard them say so.’
    â€˜I’ve not seen my own wages this twelve-month,’ Susan said unexpectedly. ‘Not that I’d complain: with things as they are, there’s plenty who’d be glad of enough bread to fill their bellies and a roof to keep off the rain. I’ll speak plainly: if you’d taken the maid’s place, I would’ve feared being turned out of it.’
    Lucy remembered the hard look they’d exchanged in the kitchen and suddenly understood that she was not the only one worried about being sent back to a home where she’d be a burden. She began to relax. ‘Of that, I’m not so sure. My aunt is very angry with me.’
    â€˜She don’t like anyone,’ replied Susan. She paused, then said, more gently, ‘She used to. It broke her heart when her boy Mark died.’
    Lucy was quiet a moment, thinking of all the dead. ‘It was a cruel, unnatural war. I pray God it truly is settled! I’d not heard any of this that my uncle was saying, about Parliament and the Army.’
    â€˜The master is eager in suchlike,’ said Susan. ‘Always buying newsbooks and drinking in taverns with men of the same humour as himself. And he knew John Lilburne, back when Freeborn