EscapeWithMe Read Free Page B

beeline for them, wondering where she might disappear in
the crowd. A man was loading a basket with goods while the merchant counted his
coins. An older woman was talking with a man selling apples. It seemed she was
haggling over the price. While they argued, another woman swiped two apples and
dropped them into the voluminous pockets of her skirt.
    “Watch it!” a man behind her yelled. Before she could react,
a large basket slammed into her side and nearly shoved her off her feet. The
basket fell to the street. Heads of cabbage rolled in every direction. Sam
watched with horror as a couple even fell into the open drain nearby. The
surrounding chatter immediately ceased and the man who had dropped the basket
went ballistic.
    “You clumsy churl,” he shouted. “Who’s going to pay for
that? My master’ll curry my hide, that’s who.”
    “I’m so sorry,” she blurted.
    “Hey!” The tall man was swiftly approaching. “You there.”
    Panic was setting in.
    “Sorry?” the cabbage man asked. “You’ll be sorry after I
give you a good basting.” She backed away, but the man grabbed the front of her
coat and jerked her forward.
    Her hat went tumbling and her hair fell out like a long red
flag that rallied even more attention. The cabbage man’s eyes went wide. If it
weren’t already obvious, he made it so.
    “You’re a woman!” The cabbage man released her and backed
up. She looked around at the shocked faces of the dozen people who had noticed
her unveiling. The tall man stood from the edge of the crowd. His face was
unreadable.
    “Shit,” she whispered.

Chapter Two
     
    “What is this?” the cabbage man asked.
    “She must be an understudy.” The older woman haggling with
the apple merchant sidled up to Sam. The gray of age streaked the woman’s
dark-brown hair.
    “Understudy?”
    “Did you not hear, Mr. Massey? The theater is soon to
perform Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night , and as you know of course, it calls
for an actress to dress as a man.”
    “Twelfth Night?” Mr. Massey shook his head. “What a
bunch of rubbish.”
    “’Tis true, sir,” the woman insisted with a firm nod. “Have
you not seen the playbill?”
    Mr. Massey threw his hands in the air. “All the same, she
ruined my master’s purchase.”
    The woman clucked her tongue and pouted as if she had
rehearsed it. “Oh they’ll be fine, sir. A couple lost to the sewers, and how
would your master notice two less than all of that? The rest just need a wash.”
    “And who’s going to wash the lot? Me. I’ll be tossed out on
my ear with no supper.”
    Sam couldn’t help saying, “You didn’t plan on washing them
anyway?” If not, she definitely never wanted to eat anything in the city. Mr.
Massey’s blotched face spluttered incoherently.
    “Now, now,” the older woman soothed. “If your employer does
as you fear, then I invite you to dine with us at my home.”
    Mr. Massey fidgeted. “Well, that’s very kind of you, Mrs.
Hayes.” The woman named Mrs. Hayes nodded graciously. She then looped her arm
through Sam’s and pulled her away from the scene. With a frown, Mr. Massey
began picking up his master’s many cabbages.
    “My dear, you must tell me why it is that you are wandering
about Covent Garden dressed in such a fashion.”
    “I—” Why would someone be dressed so strangely? Other than
having no other clothes to wear? The woman’s gentle grip on her arm was
distracting. Sam wanted to pull away from her. “Someone is looking for me,” she
hastily explained. Mrs. Hayes gasped and brought her hand to her lips.
    “Are you here to speak with someone at the Bow Street
office?” Sam nodded. It was as good an excuse as any other. She glanced over
her shoulder at where the tall man had been standing, but he had disappeared.
“Are you from the colonies, dear? You’ve the hard r of a colonist.”
    “I’m American by birth.”
    Mrs. Hayes’s shapely eyebrows went up. “Have you a place to
stay?”
    Sam shook