Chapter Seven
A Thread In Our Hand
“What happened to you, Edward?” I scanned his bruised eye and cut left hand as our cab carried us away from the dregs of London’s night life.
“A bit of malicious discussion, James. Verbal abuse followed by an exchange of physical abuse.”
“You’re injured.”
“Nothing your medical skill can’t quickly mend. We shall return to our home in Tallow Lane where tomorrow morning we shall prepare for a long journey.”
“A long journey to where, Edward?”
“North, to the wild moors of the western midlands.”
“Is that where the girls are...”
Edward whirled around and clapped his hand over my mouth. His voice was low and earnest. “Silence, James! The streets are full of ears.”
“Then you know?”
“Something, James, only something. A thread, thin and frail as it is—tha
