The Opening Night Murder Read Online Free PDF Page A

was, it had been difficult to squirrel away a shilling here and a penny there, butthere were coins “lost” at the bottoms of drawers, and small enameled boxes scattered throughout the rooms that held money dropped from pockets or left out where it might be “misplaced” as Sheila tidied up. One such box, a gift from a former client, was half full of guineas and held a number of shillings as well. Suzanne had never added them up but guessed they should come to a substantial amount. Not enough to see her through her old age, though, unless she lived like a pauper, and she’d had quite enough of that in the past.
    As she rose from the bed and slipped into her silk dressing gown, the scent of meat left over from last night, being reheated on the stove by Sheila in the kitchen, drifted to the bedchamber. There was an occasional clank and clink of pan and pottery as the maid worked, which brought a thrill of alarm as Sheila entered her calculations. How would she continue to pay a maid? She’d become accustomed to having one, and didn’t care to live without her. There had been a time when she’d had no kitchen, and breakfast meant bundling up to venture forth and buy a pot of something cheap and adulterated from a street vendor or stall; now she could hardly bear the thought of facing a cold kitchen alone of a morning.
    Numbers tumbled in her head as she worked out how long her money would last. A year or two, perhaps, if she lived frugally, without Sheila. There wasn’t much room to cut back from the way she’d lived on William’s contribution. His Puritan sensibilities made for a good stability she’d appreciated for the food in her belly and the clothes on her back, but he was not much for luxury. There was little to give up that wouldn’t return her to the bad years when her only refuge was a bawd house on Bank Side.
    Now, at the age of thirty-five, her youth was fully spent and any enthusiasm for that game quite wrung from her. Thebeauty she’d enjoyed as a girl had waned so that these days she was generally described with the euphemism of “handsome.” Her flesh was firm and her figure trim “for her age.” Not only would finding another patron be impossible, even base whoring was no longer an option for her; she would have to find another source of income if she was to live past thirty-six.
    She tied the sash of her gown and slipped her feet into a pair of slippers that were ordinary linen but boasted some skilled, intricate embroidery, then she ventured from the bedchamber.
    At the dining table she was delighted to find Piers had arrived from Newcastle and was already at breakfast. He looked up from his plate and smiled, rising to greet her with a kiss on the cheek, but she then threw her arms around his neck for a long hug. Her boy was finally back from the north, and she could be happy.
    Then they both sat again as Sheila set Suzanne’s plate of meat before her. “How delightful to see you so soon, Piers.” The window was wide open to a bright spring day, and a breeze on which wafted the odors of manure, sewage, cooking food, and a hint of the Thames just to the north. Voices of street criers below drifted in.
    Before seating herself, Suzanne leaned over to blow out the single candle that burned at the middle of the table. The day brought plenty of light through the window, and they didn’t need to waste the tallow. Waste was a sin, one of the few things William preached that she thought valid.
    “I hurried home,” said Piers with a huge grin. “Farthingworth had no more use for me, and so I’m now free to secure gainful employment as I will.” He sounded cheerful over the prospect, though his voice held a hint of the knowledge she would not be pleased with the news.
    Suzanne tensed. “He had no offer for you?” She’d hoped Piers’s apprenticeship would have segued directly into a permanent position, and in fact Farthingworth had alluded to the possibility when the training had been