Josh sat on the floor by Frances and took her hand in his. She didn’t even stir as he touched her, and her skin felt cool in his fingers. For an urgent moment he looked across, watching her face carefully to check she was still breathing.
‘You stay with her.’ Lizzie put her arm around his shoulder and squeezed it lightly. ‘Don’t worry, love, she’s doing well.’
‘Thank you,’ he said.
‘We’re going to take the lad out for a while,’ she continued. ‘You just spend some time with her.’
He nodded and stroked the pale hand.
Sedgwick had James by the hand, pulling back with a smile as the boy tried to run from him. Lizzie watched them lovingly, and even in the cold the deputy felt happy.
‘How is she really?’ he asked.
‘She’s stronger than she looks,’ Lizzie told him. ‘I thought we were taking her in so she wouldn’t die on her own.’
‘Do you think she’ll live?’ He hoisted James up on to his shoulders then above his head, the boy squealing with pleasure.
‘She might,’ Lizzie answered cautiously. ‘Who really knows?’ The hem of her skirt shushed over the packed snow. ‘When’s it going to get warm?’ she asked.
‘Not bloody soon enough.’ He let the boy down, but kept a tight hold on his hand. ‘Be good to feel warm again. Do we have to stay out long? I’m tired.’
‘Give them a few minutes, love.’ She put her arm through his. ‘You remember what young love’s like. And who knows how long they might have?’
He nodded grudgingly as they walked down to the Aire. The light had fallen away and twilight lingered on the horizon, a thin band of pale blue below the thick clouds.
‘I’ve told you we’re keeping men on Judge Dobbs,’ Sedgwick said thoughtfully.
‘Yes.’ She held his arm as they followed the path down to the river bank, James’s tiny legs pumping hard on the grass.
‘There’s a part of me that wishes Wyatt had got him first.’
‘John!’ She hit his chest lightly. ‘That’s a terrible thing to say about anyone.’
He shrugged. ‘Well, it’s true. He’s no more interest in real justice than James here has. I’ve seen him transport men for next to nothing, and hung at least two I know of who weren’t guilty, just because the merchants wanted it.’
‘That’s the way. You should know that by now.’
He kicked at the snow. ‘Doesn’t mean I have to like it.’ He paused, looked around, and turned to her. ‘He’s a bastard. Most of the justices are. They don’t care about the evidence. All they do is give the verdicts and sentences the Corporation wants. If one or two of them ended up dead, it’d be no loss for the law.’
‘Be careful,’ Lizzie warned him in a hiss. ‘Anyone hears you talk like that you’ll lose your job.’
‘I know that. You’re the only one I’ve ever told.’
‘What about Mr Nottingham? How does he feel?’
Sedgwick shook his head. ‘It’s not something we’ve talked about.’
‘For the best, if you ask me.’
‘Aye, mebbe.’ He put his arm around her. ‘Don’t worry, I like my work, I want to keep it.’
She pulled him close for a swift kiss. ‘Then make sure you do. Come on, we can go back now, we’ve given the lovebirds some time alone. You look as if you’re perished.’
‘I’ve been outside all day.’
He took James by the hand again, the three of them making their way back to the Bridge.
‘John?’
‘What?’
‘Please, don’t ever say things like. . you know. . again. It’s dangerous.’
‘I won’t.’ He gave her a gentle smile. ‘I promise.’
The fire burned high, the crackle of coal soft in the room. Nottingham felt the heat all through his body, soaking his flesh and caressing him inside. Mary sat close by, sewing a new dress for Emily; the girl was across the room, bending to write in the notebook he had bought her for Christmas, a candle flickering dangerously low next to her.
For the first time in months, since the grip of winter on the city’s throat, he felt real contentment. All the problems remained, but for tonight at least he’d been able to leave them behind.
He reached out and lazily stroked Mary’s wrist, watch her lips curl into a small smile as her hands worked. Apart from small domestic noises, the room was quiet. He felt as if he could happily let sleep take him.
Mary pushed the needle into the fabric and set it down on a stool. ‘It’s late,’ she announced. ‘Time we were all in bed.’
She stood, and slowly he followed her, stretching as he rose. Emily finished her sentence, blowing on the ink to dry it before she closed the book. A normal night, he thought as he banked the fire for the night, the way things used to be. Maybe they could slowly find their way back to some kind of happiness, to a new normality. It would be different, changed, smaller, but at least it seemed possible.
The bedroom was cold, with frost already on the window glass, the scratchy fabric of the sheet chilly as he pulled it back. But not for too much longer, Nottingham thought. No matter how cruel this winter had been, it would pass.
In his shirt he could feel the air nipping hard at his skin, and he held Mary as she came into the bed, her hair loose and brushed. She curled into his arms, shivering slightly. He could feel her breath against his cheek.
Slowly, shyly, they kissed. He was sure that with every move, every gesture, she’d pull back, scared. But she stayed, her touch welcoming, her hands chilly on his skin. Tenderly, still cautious, he began to explore her. It wasn’t with eagerness, but softly, almost breathlessly, a homecoming after so long away.
He looked into her face, seeing her eyes warm, happy, finally alive again. Relief and joy surged in his blood and he pulled her close. After, he could feel his heartbeat gradually slowing, her hair soft and ticklish against his face.
Rolling on to his back, he put his arm around Mary, her head resting on his shoulder. They lay together in silence, and he listened as her breathing quieted before letting himself fall into the darkness.
Waking came too soon. The night was still full. Mary had her back to him and he moved without disturbing her. He dressed rapidly, while the heat of the bed still clung to his body. In the kitchen he washed his face and hands in a bowl, the cold water sharp.
Nottingham took bread, stuffing it into the large pocket of the old draped waistcoat, and a swig of small beer from the jug on the table. Outside, as he pulled the greatcoat tight around his waist, the air seemed a fraction warmer. The snow was softer, squeezing down under his feet. That made the short journey longer and harder, his boots sliding over the surface as he tried to walk.
By the time he reached the jail he was exhausted, legs aching from the effort. But even that couldn’t take away his feeling of contentment.
Sedgwick was already there, feeding coals to the fire. His coat lay over the chair and he turned and stood as Nottingham entered.
‘Morning, boss.’
‘John.’ He slipped off his coat and hung it from the nail in the wall. ‘How’s Josh’s girl?’
‘Still sleeping when I left.’ He poked at the blaze to send it roaring. ‘You know, he spent the whole evening sitting by her, stroking her hand, making sure she drank some water. Didn’t say a word, either of them.’ He shook his head in astonishment and respect.
‘What does Lizzie think?’
The deputy shrugged. ‘She says Frances might survive. The lass has no strength. Looks like she lost the baby early, but there’s nothing to her. She’s like a twig, wrists as thin as bobbins.’
Nottingham nodded. ‘What if she dies? What do you think Josh would do? He seems to trust you.’
Sedgwick shook his head again slowly. ‘No idea. He keeps everything inside. I like him but it’s impossible to guess what he’s thinking.’
‘He’s been doing some excellent work.’
