Claire Thornton - The Vagabond Duchess

Temperance caught her breath as a vivid image of the fire filled her mind. How could she have forgotten it, even for a few moments? Before she could speak, she heard feet clattering down the stairs.

‘Mistress, is it you?’ Her housemaid, Sarah, burst into the shop, with Isaac close behind. ‘What are we going to do?’

‘I don’t—’ Temperance began, for once in her life uncertain what to do next.

‘Pack up and be ready to leave,’ Jack said.

‘What?’ She turned to stare at him.

‘The waterwheels beneath the bridge have already been destroyed,’ he said. ‘Burning timbers fell on them from above. I saw the damage myself. No water can be drawn up from the river, even if it were possible to get close enough to the flames to douse them. And people have been smashing open water pipes in an effort to save their own homes. If the wind doesn’t abate, nothing will stop the spread of the fire.’

Temperance pressed her fingers to her mouth. A few moments ago she’d been kissing Jack. Her body was still flushed with the sensations he’d aroused. Now her thoughts turned sickeningly to the disaster that had overtaken the east of the City.

‘It’s still a quarter of a mile away at least,’ she whispered. ‘Surely…’

‘Pray for the wind to drop and a rainstorm to equal the deluge,’ said Jack almost brutally. ‘Perhaps the fire won’t spread this far—but it is better to be safe than burnt.’

In the silence following his words, Sarah began to cry. Temperance swallowed and tried to gather her wits. She looked around the shop. She’d lived here all her life. Through every crisis that had visited London during her lifetime she’d known at least her home was secure.

‘Go where?’ she asked. ‘How far? Everyone I know lives within a few streets of here.’

‘In the first instance, to Bundle’s Coffeehouse in Covent Garden,’ said Jack. ‘Bundle’s an old friend of mine. It’s nearly one and a half miles from the heart of the fire. God willing, it won’t spread—’

He broke off at the sound of running footsteps. A second later Temperance saw a woman in the doorway.

‘Is my Katie here?’ Nellie Carpenter half-sobbed her desperate question.

‘Katie? No. Nellie, what—?’

‘Oh, dear God!’ Nellie spun around. She was almost out of the door before Temperance managed to catch her arm.

‘Is Katie lost?’

‘I went out to hear the latest news.’ Nellie heaved in a shuddering breath. ‘She was by my side, I swear. I told her not to leave my side. But the next time I looked she was gone.’ Tears streamed unheeded down Nellie’s cheeks. ‘I’ve got to find her.’ She tried to pull out of Temperance’s grip.

‘Who is Katie?’ Jack was right beside Temperance.

‘Her daughter. She’s five,’ Temperance said. ‘I’ll help, Nellie—’

‘We’ll all help,’ said Jack. ‘Nellie, show us where you were standing the last time you saw her. And you two…’ he glanced over at Isaac and Sarah ‘…do you know what Katie looks like? Good, come with us.’

They spent the rest of the day searching the streets for the lost child, while ash fell on them continuously and the fire crept closer to Cheapside. By nightfall Nellie was almost collapsing from despair and terror.

‘We have to keep looking!’ she insisted, her voice harsh with desperation. ‘We have to—’

‘We will,’ said Jack, his voice as firm and confident as it had been that morning. ‘We won’t give up until she is found. I won’t give up until she is found.’

Tears filled Temperance’s eyes when she heard his avowal. Yesterday she’d almost decided he was a scoundrel without a conscience—today he was steadfastly looking for a child he didn’t know. It was true that, unlike many of the other searchers, he didn’t have a business to save, but it was still the act of a generous, compassionate man.

After dark, Jack insisted Temperance and Isaac stay together, but otherwise the search continued as before. Finally, well past midnight, Isaac spotted Katie huddled in a doorway. She was almost hidden behind a pile of rubbish. Temperance hadn’t seen her. She thanked God for Isaac’s quick eyes as she lifted the frightened child into her arms.

A few minutes later Nellie snatched Katie into her own embrace, scolding and crying over her restored daughter.

Jack took the key from her and opened the shop door, lifting the lanthorn he held high to provide light for the others as they stumbled inside.

‘Now we eat,’ he said. ‘What have you got in your larder?’

‘Eat?’ Temperance rubbed her face, smearing tears and ash across her cheek. ‘I don’t know. There’s some bread. Bacon. Cheese, I think…’

‘Now there’s a feast for a hungry man. Will you give me a share, even though I can’t play for it?’ he asked, a hint of his former teasing manner in his voice.

‘Of course.’ Temperance was too worried to reply in kind. How was she going to save her goods now? All the previous day she’d seen tradesmen packing their wares and household belongings into carts and barrows. They’d found Katie, and she’d never regret the hours they’d spent looking for her, but would there still be time to salvage her belongings?

Fear compelled her up the stairs, past the kitchen and on to the attic. Horror stopped her breath as she stared towards the fire. In the daylight it had been bad enough, in the dark it was a terrifying sight. The flames lit up the sky almost as bright as day. They were closer now, leaping over rooftops, dancing like obscene devils over church spires.

She gazed, transfixed, by the nightmarish spectacle. Jack came to stand by her side.

‘You’re right,’ she said, her voice harsh with anxiety. ‘We have to pack up and leave.’

‘After we’ve eaten,’ he replied.

‘There’s no time—’

‘There’s time to eat,’ he said firmly. ‘The fire looks more fearsome in the dark, but it is still no closer than Cannon Street.’

By the time dawn was casting a shrouded light over the city, Jack had found a cart for Temperance. She didn’t ask how he’d persuaded the carter to go with him, or what he’d paid to hire the cart. She’d seen for herself how the price of carriage had multiplied since the start of the fire. Porters, carters and watermen were all charging whatever their customers were capable of paying—and if one person didn’t have the money, another one, richer or more desperate, was sure to accept the exorbitant price.

Temperance didn’t let herself think about how deeply she might now be in debt to Jack. She’d ask him later. For now she concentrated on wrapping and loading the bales of cloth from her shop. Sarah had returned to her own family that morning, too frightened to remain close to the advancing flames, so it was only Jack and Isaac who helped load the cart.

She paused to catch her breath and noticed Agnes come out of her shop door. After today Temperance didn’t know when she’d see her neighbour again. She’d had many arguments with Agnes, but she didn’t want to part on bad terms, so she went to speak to her.

‘Where are you going?’ Agnes asked.

‘Covent Garden. What about you?’

‘My niece, Fanny, in Southwark. You remember her?’

‘Of course. What about your belongings?’ Temperance could see Agnes’s shop was already stripped bare.

‘St Paul’s,’ said Agnes. ‘No fire will burn the cathedral. I was lucky I managed to get my goods inside in time. Everyone was rushing there yesterday. I didn’t know you knew anyone in Covent Garden,’ she added suspiciously.

‘I don’t. Jack does. Where are Ned and Eliza?’ Temperance asked, referring to Agnes’s apprentice and servant.

‘They’ve gone ahead,’ Agnes said. ‘I’ll be on my way soon. I just came back…’ Her throat worked as she patted the doorjamb of the shop, her home for forty years. ‘I can’t stand here gossiping, girl,’ she said. ‘I’ve got things to do.’ She went inside without a backward glance.