Free Jane and the Damned by Janet Mullany

carefully in his coat pockets, he led Jane outside.
    A crowd of drunken men surged onto the street, their arms full of bottles of wine, shouting and swearing they‧d kill half a dozen Frenchies each before they saw the
tricouleur
fly over their city. “You‧ll drink a toast with us to the King!” one of them demanded, waving a bottle in their faces.
    Luke paused to draw a blade from his cane and the man with the bottle took a step back, tripped, and fell flat on his back onto the refuse of the street to the great amusement of his companions.
    “Mad, quite mad,” murmured her father as two women shrieked over a length of calico cloth, eventually ripping it in half. The shopkeeper‧s howls of rage mingled with those of her customers, who immediately began bickering over who had the greater length.
    They passed more families, struggling elderly people, and weeping small children, carrying a few hastily snatched possessions—one woman carrying an iron pot that, from its scent, held the day‧s dinner—trying to escape. Her father tried to remonstrate with them that they might well be safer to stay in the city, but fear of the French left them beyond reason.
    “What do you think will happen?” Jane asked.
    “I trust that
fraternité
will hold sway,” her father responded with a flash of his usual spirit. “But I fear there will be bloodshed. We must be brave, my dear. I fear your mother will not take it well.”
    They passed a trap stuffed full of people. “Five guineas each, sir, to escape the French,” the driver shouted to them.
    “Where on earth does he think we will sit? On their laps?” Jane felt sorry for the horse, an old and bony specimen that struggledto pull its load. Several of the passengers looked exceedingly stout, stuffed like sausages into several layers of clothes.
    “Outrageous!” Mr. Austen exclaimed. “Yet we shall leave the city, for I am sure we shall be safer at home, and take your aunt and uncle with us.”
    “We do not know the state of the surrounding countryside, sir. You may do better to shutter your windows and sit tight until more is known,” Luke said.
    “You may be right, sir, but Mr. and Mrs. Leigh—my sister-inlaw and her husband—keep a carriage and horses. We must discuss it with them.”
    They continued through streets full of hurrying, anxious people, passing houses with the shutters closed tight, until they reached Paragon Place. Luke refused Jane‧s father‧s offer of refreshment.
    “I must return home to shutter my windows and take stock,” he said. “If I may be of service, my lodgings are on Queens Square—here is my card. I am generally home unless I am visiting patients.” He shot Jane a glance as he handed the card to her father.
Find me there, Jane, you will need to dine again, whatever the French do. Or I shall find you, now I know where you are.
    Oh, do leave me alone.
    “You are a physician, sir?” Mr. Austen asked.
    “Indeed I am. May I be of some assistance to you and your family? I see that Miss Austen is indisposed; it shows quite clearly to me, for I have had much experience with cases such as these.”
    Jane opened her mouth to tell her father he was deceived, but the words failed to come. Her father instead gripped Luke‧s hand with his own, expressing his extreme gratitude, and begging him to call on them the next day for a consultation.
    Luke smiled and bowed. Jane watched him walk away. HerBearleader. A slender man who walked like a dancer and twirled his blade as though it were a toy; she did not doubt he could use it. He had had years, possibly centuries, to practice swordplay.
    “Quite a gentlemanly sort of man, but somewhat whimsical,” her father pronounced. “My dear, the waters have made an improvement already, I can tell—you look quite remarkably well, and I am most grateful for Mr. Venning‧s kind offer.”

Chapter 6

    As the footman opened the door to the house, Mrs. Austen hurried to meet them, Cassandra following