Read Online Deceit by Deborah White - Free Book Online

the ferryman looks closely at Christophe then… but as ships from all parts of the known world stop here, he lets it pass and takes the money.
    In the hurry and bustle, the ferryman does not notice that, though we board the boat, we slip off again separately. Christophe leaves first and then I follow, my hair covered over now with my shawl. Then I go to a draper’s shop and buy us both new clothes: a plain linen dress in a drab brown that makes me look like Martha, and with room enough for the baby to grow, and a white shirt and dark breeches for Christophe. I buy us new hats too. Straw for me, and black felt for Christophe. Both hats are wide brimmed so our faces will be shaded from view.
    There is a schedule for the coach to Dover posted to the wall outside the Ship Inn and I examine it while Christophe goes to buy us food. The coach leaves Gravesend at six o’clock the next morning. That is too many hours away. We do not wish to linger that long here. Perhaps it would be wiser to board the coach at the next stop, Rochester, a distance of just seven miles? An easy walking distance, even in my condition.
    I am just about to turn away from the inn when I hear a familiar voice. Martha’s! My first instinct is to leap out and shout and dance and hug her to my heart. Ralf must have given her mymessage and now she has come looking for me. I
knew
she would not abandon me and my heart leaps with joy. But as I turn to her and she catches sight of me, a look of fear crosses her face and she gives a little shake of her head and a slight movement of the hand, which signifies that I should go away.
    I reach up for the ring and turn it on its braid; it feels hot in my hand. Then I hear his voice and Martha turns and I see Nicholas. Martha pretends to trip and fall, and though he shouts at her and pulls her roughly to her feet, he is distracted and I am able to slip into a nearby jitty.
    I peer out… Martha and Nicholas are gone into the inn… and I wait for Christophe, in a state of agitation that even a sip of the laudanum does not quell. The ring is so hot now that it leaves a red mark at my breastbone.
    The moment Christophe passes the end of the jitty, I pull him in and I do not need to tell him what has happened, because he says, “We must go this minute. I was in the baker’s shop when my ring grew hot as coals.
C’est inquiétant
. I’m anxious.
He
is here in Gravesend, is he not?”
    Christophe peeps out into the street and weare about to step from the jitty and hurry away when I see Martha again. She has come back out of the inn and is looking about her frantically as if she wonders which way she should go. Then she rushes away from us, up the street. Christophe is looking hard at me now, his hand on my arm. I think he is worried I will follow her.
    “I would trust her with my life,” I say, but Christophe replies that we can trust no one. I do not believe that and though he might seek to sow a little seed of doubt in my head, I will refuse to let it grow. I
can
trust Martha. I know it. However, about Ralf I am not so sure. And Silas, well, if he still lives, then he will be after our blood and not satisfied until he has it.
    So, in the darkness of the jitty, we hastily scrabble into our new clothes and, leaving the old ones behind, slip away from Gravesend and skirt the road to Rochester, keeping as well hidden from anyone passing along the road as we are able. And though we stop to eat and to doze a little, it is not long before we are at Rochester, a bustling place, for it houses the chief arsenal of the Royal Navy.
    Warehouses and yards and storehouses are laid out beyond the city walls. They are almost likea town in themselves. We pass by and through the gate into Rochester and look for cheap lodgings for the night. Christophe thinks if we choose carefully, find somewhere tucked away in a back street, we will be safe until the morning and then we will board the coach. God willing our plan will work and Nicholas