Page 149 of Rakes & Reticules
She nodded and gripped Dottie’s hand more tightly, her eyes pinned on the young man next to Robert on the platform.
A loudslamand the men dropped. Dottie closed her eyes against the sight and pulled the girl into her skirts. It was over. Time to start again.
A tall, handsome gentleman with brown hair and hazel eyes paused in front of them. Their eyes met as he passed, and she had the feeling she knew him. Where they would have met, she had no idea. But Dottie was drawn to him in the oddest way. He studied her for a moment as if he, too, found her familiar. With a murmured, “Ma’am,” and a tip of his hat, he melted into the crowd.
Dottie looked down at the girl, who nodded, and in silent agreement, the two lonely females left the gallows behind them.
* * *
Cheapside
They walkedtoward her new home—a cozy room attached to the kitchen of a public house. The owner’s wife gave her a place to stay in exchange for baking bread and helping with the cooking. Dottie had a warm bed and a kitchen at her disposal to make her various pastries, which she sold on Gracechurch Street to the busy shoppers. On Sundays, she went to St. James Park where the promenade was crowded with people.
Dottie enjoyed baking, finding it therapeutic as she kneaded the dough and pounded out her frustrations and emotions. She was already making a small profit. Though she hadn’t wanted to take her husband’s money made by illegal gains, there would have been no way to buy the ingredients needed to get started.
She looked down at the small girl beside her. “We haven’t even introduced ourselves. How remiss of me.” Dottie forced a smile. “I’m Mrs. Brown. What is your name?”
The child gazed around, spotted a flower vendor, and pointed.
“A guessing game, is it?” She pondered the array of flowers. “Daisy?”
The girl shook her head.
“Violet?” This time, the child managed a weak smile and nodded.
“That’s a fine name. Violet. I like the sound of it. It may suit you once you’re cleaned up.” She studied her new young friend. “Do you speak?”
Violet shook her head, giving Dottie a woeful look, then gripped her forearm with both hands.
Dottie sighed. “I won’t send you off. No reason for both of us to be alone. But it all depends on the landlady. We’ll have to think of something to tell her, other than we met at a hanging.”
Violet nodded, a big grin transforming her round face. She threw her arms around Dottie, almost toppling them both over. “Goodness, child. Don’t send us both to the infirmary with your gratitude.”
But Violet had made her heart lighter, and she felt a genuine smile curve her lips for the first time in a month. It felt good. Right. She’d think of something to tell Mrs. Clatterly.
The tavern was busy, and Dottie ushered Violet into her room. “Strip off those filthy clothes, and I’ll fetch water for a bath.”
Violet shook her head. Disgust curled her lip.
“This is not a choice. If you wish to remain a grubby waif, then off you go. I’ll not share my bed unless you’re clean, and I’ve combed your hair for lice.”
Violet sighed, her small shoulders drooping.
“Well, that wasn’t much of a fight. Good.” Dottie went out to the pump for water and to find a tub.
When she returned, the girl was inspecting the room, drawing a finger over the wood chair, walking to the bed, and pushing on the mattress, a surprised smile lighting her face.
“Do you approve?”
Violet nodded, undressed with no modesty, and stepped into the small tub. She gasped as water was unceremoniously dumped on her head.
“Gracious me. Your hair is blonde!”
An hour later, Violet sat on a stool in front of Dottie, wearing an old shift that had been cut at the bottom. The girl would need clothes. Dottie had refused to wear mourning for a man she had never really known and went with the story that she’d been widowed over a year. Instead, she’d sold her more impractical dresses except for one her father had given her. With the money, she’d bought sturdier material of brown, dark blue, and gray for clothes that would last longer through the summer and winter months.
“I have some material tucked away. You’ll have a new dress by the end of the week. We can take in this old shift and perhaps make a cap from the half I cut off.”
Violet nodded, yawned, and leaned back against Dottie’s legs while she brushed out her hair. Within minutes, she snored quietly. What kind of life had the girl had before today? Fate had sent her, and Dottie would heed the call. She was lonely, and if Violet wanted to stay, they’d find a way. Perhaps Violet could help her atone for Robert’s past.
