Free The Stolen One by Suzanne Crowley Page B

an arm and helped her up a narrow stair, Maisy and another maid scurrying behind us. “Here.” Mrs. Salinas motioned to the doorway of a room and we carried her in. We put her in a small, neatly turned bed, and Anna curled up immediately like a newborn piglet.
    “Shall we fetch a doctor?” Mrs. Salinas asked.
    “No,” I snapped. Then, quieter, “No, I’m sorry. No doctors. Grace gave her a draught. Sometimes she sent me into the woods for some of the plants.” I desperatelysearched my mind for the ingredients. “Willow weed, cider, and pears; we used pears,” I said. Those pears, magical they are, Grace used to say of them. Sprinkled with the centurion’s gold. Anna moaned.
    “Did you hear?” the lady calmly said to the maids. “Run to the market, apurete. ” The girls ran from the room and the lady turned to me. “And Grace is?”
    “Our mother.” I corrected myself: “ Her mother.” I sat down on the bed next to Anna.
    “The one who recently passed to the Lord?” she said as she crossed herself. She sat down on the other side of the bed next to Anna.
    She must be one of those Catholics, a heretic. They were the brave ones, those that kept to their faith. And it was indeed not a good time to be brave. Most practiced their faith in private, hiding like rats, but those that were visible and vocal were prosecuted and burned at the stake. I peered at her, this odd woman, and wondered why she had invited us, complete strangers, thieves we could be, into her home. I immediately thought of our bags downstairs, unwatched.
    “We must leave her,” I explained. “The best medicine is utter quiet. A cool room. Darkness. Time.”
    “But she’s deaf, is she not? A mute deaf?”
    I glanced swiftly at her. “No, she hears us in her own way. Vibrations. And other things she cannot speak of. Sometimes terrible things.”
    I followed Mrs. Salinas down the stairs. To my relief, I saw our two bags were still near the door. Several pears had spilled out. I set them on the table. They would be much needed in Anna’s potion. I couldn’t help but draw one to my nose as we sat and inhale the aroma. It was sweet, so sweet. The maids had left bread and mulled wine and cold chicken. But I suddenly was not hungry.
    I watched her as she ate. “You should never waste God’s bounty,” she said as she gnawed indelicately on a chicken leg. She pushed a plate toward me. It did smell heavenly, aye, it did. I picked up a piece of warm bread and took a bite. It melted in my mouth, delicious and so unlike the crusty bread we had at home.
    “So tell me, dear girl,” Mrs. Salinas said. “What are you fleeing from and why are you depriving that poor girl of the peace and comfort of her home? You do know that’s why she’s curled up like a sickly babe upstairs? London is not for the likes of her.” She took a long swallow of the wine.
    I laughed. “She wanted to come,” I insisted. “We’ve never been apart.” Not even a day. Grace had never letme go to market, and of course Anna had never wanted to go anyway. “I’m not fleeing,” I added.
    “Sometimes there are no answers for what you are seeking,” Mrs. Salinas said, taking another generous sip of wine. “Only more questions. It’s the wise one who accepts this, child. Perhaps you should take your sister home.”
    I could not look her in the eyes. I lifted my glass of wine and took a gulp, although I’d never liked the sour-tasting liquid back home. Grace always said it loosed the lips and everything else and to stay away from it if I knew what was good for me. “And why would you say such a thing?”
    “Anyone with one good eye would know you are not what you appear to be. Dressed as grandees.” She snorted. “Did you steal your wares, dear one?”
    “So you think we are thieves,” I said, taking another generous gulp of the wine. Funny how it tasted better and better, like sour berries sprinkled with sugar. “This,” I said, holding up my arm, “is my