Free Circle of Shadows by Imogen Robertson

she said out loud. ‘My dear, I am sorry. We are interrogating you within moments of our arrival.’
    Rachel managed to smile. ‘No, Harry. I am sorry to be so weak. I want – all I want is to tell you all I can, but my head is spinning.’
    ‘Darling, are you quite well?’ A suspicion began to form in Harriet’s mind.
    Rachel held onto Harriet’s hand very tightly. ‘Oh Harry, hardly anyone will speak to me, and even those who do only pity me. I have eaten almost every meal alone.’
    ‘You have been in prison too, child,’ Crowther said, as she wiped her eyes.
    ‘Lord, I would do anything to stop crying! Do not indulge me, Crowther. It is a comfortable prison. And my sufferings are nothing to my husband’s.’ She said the word firmly, almost as a declaration. ‘And I have made some friends. There is a pair of brothers I wish you to meet. Mrs Padfield introduced me to them. They, like us, are not members of the nobility here and have helped me a great deal in learning how to behave, who to petition for Daniel. They have a workshop in the palace grounds.’
    Harriet glanced at her sister, then her companions. ‘Perhaps you could take me to see them now, Rachel? I am sure Graves and Crowther will understand if we have a little time to ourselves, and the fresh air will do you good.’
    Rachel nodded. ‘But you have only just arrived … I would not wish to seem ungrateful.’
    Crowther half-closed his eyes. ‘I have spent the better part of the last month in a carriage with your sister and Mr Graves. The greatest kindness you could do me at this moment is to allow me an hour or two alone.’
    Rachel grinned and Harriet caught Crowther’s gaze. She knew he would be pleased with himself when he could hide his thoughtfulness with rudeness. His blue eyes glimmered.
    ‘Of course, Mrs Clode,’ Graves said with his usual smile. ‘I shall find a slightly less travel-worn coat and then go and present our credentials to Chancellor Swann. Crowther, I shall not make you come with me.’
    ‘Thank you, Graves.’
    Graves sighed. ‘Is Swann as dry as his correspondence? Lord, no doubt now they have one of my closest friends locked away they find the time has come to re-negotiate those bonds. Very well, let us wash the dirt from us and try to give the proper impression of importance.’ He leaned forward and patted Rachel’s hand again. ‘Do not fret, my dear. Mrs Westerman and Mr Crowther will return your husband to you.’

II.5
    P EGEL’S ROOM WAS IN an attic in the oldest quarter of the medieval city. As the stairs were uneven and narrow, and he had to fetch his own water and fuel, the rates were low for the space he had. He could have used some of the gold in the lining of his coat and bought the whole building, but the money was not his and the man who had given it to him would expect him to account for his spending. In any case his new home suited him. The attic ran the whole length of the building and the south end gable was dominated by a large window which overlooked the small market square of the quarter. The few sticks of furniture provided seemed to make it look more cavernous, it was impossible to heat and if he wanted to avoid freezing as he sat at his desk in the window, he had to carry his fire with him in a brass coal-carrier such as maids cradled to church to keep their mistresses’ feet warm. But it was secure. No one could approach without the complaints of the stairs giving notice, and no one had any business to hover outside his door. Also, for all the chill, he liked the view. It made him feel like some wise bird watching the comings and goings below. A king, or a magician able to watch the people move about on their paths like little walking toys.
    He dropped Florian onto the couch a little heavily – getting him up the stairs had been uncomfortable – rolled his shoulders and crouched down to get a fire going in the grate. When he was satisfied that the flames were alive, and felt a little