Cat's Cradle by Julia Golding Read Free Book Online Page A

us each an arm. ‘Ladies, if you would come with me.’
    Leaving the noise of the battle behind us, we slipped out the back door and headed towardsBow Street. A party of the watch passed us at a run, heading for the ballroom. It looked like the manager had called in reinforcements.
    â€˜Mrs Fletcher!’ I tapped on the back door, hoping she hadn’t gone to bed yet. Mr and Mrs Fletcher appeared in the kitchen: she dressed in her nightrobe and he in his breeches, carrying a candle.
    â€˜Good gracious, Cat!’ Mrs Fletcher exclaimed, opening the door to us. ‘What ’ave you done with Syd?’
    â€˜There was some trouble at the ball, ma’am,’ said Peter smoothly. ‘Your son was unavoidably detained so I had the pleasure of bringing the ladies home.’
    â€˜It was those Irish devils again, I wager.’ Mrs Fletcher beckoned us in, her eyes going to my other companion.
    â€˜Indeed so, ma’am. I won’t linger. I have a violin to rescue from distress.’ With an elegant bow, Peter retreated. ‘I’ll tell the watchman on the site where you are, Miss,’ he called over his shoulder to Bridgit.
    â€˜Mrs Fletcher . . . er, Joanna, can my friend stay?’ I asked hesitantly. My first day in her home and I was already bringing in waifs and strays. And I’d just turned down her son.
    Mrs Fletcher took in the girl’s ragged condition and pursed her lips.
    â€˜And she is?’
    â€˜Bridgit O’Riley.’
    Mr Fletcher grunted. I guessed that meant he disapproved.
    Bridgit hovered on the doorstep. ‘No matter. I’ll be leaving then.’
    That seemed to decide Mrs Fletcher. ‘Oh, don’t be so foolish, girl. You’re welcome ’ere. I won’t say the same for all Irish, but you’ll do for tonight.’
    I gave Mrs Fletcher an impulsive hug. ‘Thank you. Are you going to wait up for Syd?’
    She shook her head. ‘No. I’ve long since learned that ’e can look after ’imself. Both of you, go on up. Some of us ’ave to work in the morning.’ She shooed us up the stairs.
    Placing my candle on the bedside table in the box room, I gestured Bridgit to the washstand.‘You might like to get some of that punch off before you sleep.’
    She nodded, still looking dazed by her good fortune to be in a proper bedroom for the night. She stroked the counterpane reverently.
    â€˜I’m afraid none of my things will fit you. I’ll just run and borrow a robe from Joanna.’
    When I got back, I found Bridgit had cleaned the sticky residue off her skin and brushed the worst of it out of her long black hair.
    â€˜I must smell like a drunkard,’ she muttered.
    â€˜You smell like the contents of an orange-seller’s basket. Not so bad.’ I handed her the old nightgown and set about changing for bed.
    â€˜You’re very kind.’ Bridgit tugged the robe over her head, her resemblance to a dark-haired angel all the stronger now thanks to her garb and the hair tumbling around her shoulders.
    â€˜I just know what it feels like to be an outsider.’
    â€˜I doubt that,’ she murmured, folding back the sheets and running the warming pan over them for us both.
    I took the pan from her and set it on the hearthto cool down safely. ‘You can’t get much further outside than a foundling.’ I was reminded once again of my strange day. ‘You’re lucky: you’ve got brothers.’
    â€˜Lucky, am I?’
    â€˜Oh, yes. You have the luck of the Irish. Better seven problem brothers than not a soul on your side.’
    She yawned and snuggled down under the blankets. ‘Maybe. But you haven’t met them yet.’

SCENE 3 – IRISH ASSURANCE
    My chance to make my acquaintance with Bridgit’s brothers came sooner than expected. It started with a thundering on the doors at three in the morning.
    â€˜Bridgit, get down here now!’
    I