Chapter Five‘I’m Lizzie,’ said a pale face in the stifling dark. ‘From the fish-gutting girls. And more recently from the King’s Head Inn for my pickpocketing skills. What are you in for?’
‘I suppose I’m a thief,’ I said, becoming dizzy as the air in the carriage was used up by too many throats.
‘Perfect!’ she said, and I wondered if she was quite sane. I’d been crammed into a carriage with a madwoman. Given our mutual destination, it was entirely possible she was dangerous. She bounced on her sliver of seat, making the thick-set fellow beside her grunt in anger. He was much more likely to be dangerous, now I thought about it. Lizzie might be a criminal, but she didn’t strike me as dangerous to anyone but herself.
By necessity, I carried my portmanteau clasped in both my arms, standing
