Free The Crimson Ribbon by Katherine Clements Page A

blessed.’
    ‘And now you would take up a place within this congregation.’
    I dart a look at Lizzie and she gives me an encouraging nod. ‘I think so, sir.’
    ‘Then you will need instruction. Do you know your scriptures? You would do well to learn from your mistress. You could not have a finer example . . .’
    ‘Be gentle, William,’ Lizzie whispers, lightly touching his sleeve. ‘Remember, it is only her first time with us.’
    ‘Do not fear,’ Kiffin says. ‘If you seek God and your heart is true, we will never turn you away. I welcome you wholeheartedly to our gathering. May you find spiritual sustenance here.’
    Then he smiles at me. He is blessed with good teeth, like a row of tiny pearls. He is handsome when he smiles. I find myself inexplicably comforted.
    At last he lets my hands drop and turns back to Lizzie. ‘And Charlotte is with you still.’ He nods to the girl, who curtsies and simpers. ‘Forgive me, but is not one maid enough for a woman of your standing? I fear for the well-being of any woman who needs two. We must protect ourselves against vanity and the trappings of indulgence.’
    Lizzie laughs. ‘Do not fear for me, Pastor Kiffin. My taste for finery and fripperies has not run wild. Charlotte is my maid still and keeps a close watch on such things. Ruth is helping Margaret in the kitchen. And a fine cook she is. If you would care to visit my father this week, perhaps Ruth will prepare her oatcakes for you – they are particularly good.’
    ‘I would be honoured, if your father will receive me.’
    ‘He will.’ Lizzie’s lips part and she raises an eyebrow almost imperceptibly.
    As we make our way back to West St Paul’s, thoughts of the beer and bread that await us running through my mind, Lizzie asks me to walk alongside her. ‘Tell me,’ she says, ‘what did you think of our little congregation?’
    ‘Wonderful,’ I say, sensing the answer she wants.
    ‘How does it compare to your worship in Ely?’
    ‘It was much longer.’
    She laughs. ‘You will get used to that. Pastor Kiffin is a fine speaker, is he not?’
    ‘Very fine.’
    ‘And a good man.’
    ‘He seems so.’
    She looks pleased. ‘What else did you like?’
    I am aware of Charlotte, trailing just behind us, collecting every word, like dropped pennies.
    ‘I liked how the people were towards you.’
    ‘They are good people. God’s most devout.’
    ‘I mean, how they respect you. They see you for how you are.’
    ‘And how is that?’
    I cannot put my thoughts into words. Then, ‘Good. You are a good person too.’
    She laughs again, like a trill on a pipe.
    We walk on and I notice how she holds herself, ready to meet the gaze of those in our path, proud, almost defiant.
    ‘You made a good impression, Ruth,’ she says. ‘New faces are rare and always remarked upon. You did well today.’
    She reaches out her hand and touches my sleeve. ‘I’m weary. May I take your arm?’
    Charlotte hurries to her side. ‘I’m here. Let me.’ She offers hers, but although it is perhaps sturdier than my own, Lizzie does not choose it.
    ‘I will do well enough with Ruth,’ she says, drawing me closer.
    Glancing back at Charlotte, I see her give a sullen look in my direction. But I do not care. I feel my chest swell a little and flush with gladness, even though I know Lizzie’s actions have brewed trouble to come.

Chapter 10
    Summer stays with us longer than usual. At home, I loved this time of year. The last dry days before the floods bring a flurry of activity – the sedge harvest, the salting of meat, early apples coming in from the orchards. Labourers round off their days singing the old songs outside the taverns. Servant girls laze on the green before the Cromwell house, taking off their slippers and wriggling their toes in the grass, snatching the last of the sun’s heat on their way home from market. Ely smells of baked earth. We wait for the scent of salt in the air and the cry of gulls.
    London is