A Murder at Rosamund's Gate - By Susanna Calkins Page 0,111
said.
To pass the time, Lucy composed a whole piece about Lucas. “The Murderer at Rosamund’s Gate, Revealed.” If there were a bookseller about, maybe Master Aubrey, perhaps he’d buy it.
“If anyone is left after the fire,” she said to herself. Inside, her resolution grew.
Finally, they got word that the wind had turned, moving the fire back on its already spent ashes, so that it came to burn itself out, snuffed as quietly as a candle put out at midnight. Adam came back, tired, red-eyed, but full of a new vigor. He embraced her before turning to his father, then went to his bed to sleep.
* * *
When Adam awoke, he asked Lucy to walk with him. The sun was just rising. The smell of smoke was still everywhere, but none of the homes near them had been touched. He told her a little about what he had seen—the screaming women and children, the dogs barking, the water lines, and the men sweating, desperately trying to bring water from the fireboats. The fire was a beast, seeking to destroy homes, churches, and markets in a single monstrous breath. That so few were killed outright was truly a marvel.
Adam paused. “But the damnedest thing,” he said, “was the pigeons.”
“The pigeons?”
“Yes, they did not want to leave their nests—they were often in the roofs and eaves of people’s homes. They would not fly away but would stay in their little holes until their wings caught fire and they would just flop to the ground, dead.” Adam drew in a great breath. “It’s a new day,” he said.
Lucy agreed. She pointed to the mansion at the end of their street. Out front, a servant was sweeping the steps with a brush broom. Lucy waved, then squinted. “That’s Ruthie—and I see she is wearing her mistress’s clothes. I did hear that nearly all the household had lost their lives in the plague. ’Tis likely to be her home now. Can she do that, I wonder?”
Adam shrugged. “Not legally, but if the master had no family, and since the courts are barely back up and running, she may well call it her home. It’s happening all over London.”
Everywhere they walked, they saw evidence of a changing society. Overnight, it seemed, servants had become landowners, tavern keepers, merchants, tradesmen. Low and high had switched.
“There’s talk, too, of a new London,” Adam said. “Some fellow, Christopher Wren, has already been commissioned by the king to sketch out a new plan. Supposedly, our city will come to rival the great cities of Europe.”
“A new city where servants can marry as they please?” she asked, giving Adam a sidelong glance.
He laughed and pulled her closer. “That, to be sure.”
“Or perhaps a new city where a woman might choose not to marry and set up her own shop? Her own trade?” Her smile was mischievous, but her tone was serious. “Where a woman can speak?”
He kissed the top of her head. “Perhaps it’s that as well. ’Tis a new age dawning, I foresee.”
Lucy smiled and glanced across the street, her attention caught by a woman staring at them in disbelief. It was Judith Embry, and she was lacking her regular well-coiffed appearance. Indeed, she even looked slightly bedraggled, as if she did not know what to do with the new changes in fortune so many were facing. As Lucy returned her gaze, Judith dropped her wicker basket into a great slop puddle at the side of the road, oblivious to the ruin caused to what goods lay inside.
Refraining from smirking, Lucy simply nodded at Judith. Adam, who was looking the other direction, did not notice Judith at all. As the gap between them narrowed, though, Lucy could not resist winking, and she grinned when she heard Judith’s outraged gasp. A cart carrying recently slaughtered pigs passed between them on the narrow path, and Lucy and Adam, now arm in arm, moved on.
* * *
Soon after, all their possessions carted away, the house felt empty and a little desolate. The household was taking up residence in a new home, one with far fewer memories. Lucy had not told them yet, but she was not sure how long she would stay with them. Something great was pushing inside her, and she wanted to find out what it was. Lucy felt a powerful stillness as she made a last pass through the great hall. She could almost see Bessie, Lawrence, and the mistress moving through the shadows, finding their own ways toward light.