5
Sabrina cursed softly as she studied her meager breakfast at the table down in the taproom of the inn. She had slept poorly the night before but had assured herself that anyone would have been unsettled by the strange, cold room.
The bread was even more stale this morning, hard enough to crack her teeth, and the flavorless porridge was somehow even less edible. She forced herself to eat as she debated where she was to go. London would provide more opportunities for work, but it would also be far more dangerous.
As the barmaid passed by, Sabrina waved her over.
“Yes, miss?”
“Excuse me, but do you know of anyone looking for any help nearby? A shopkeeper, seamstress, someone in need of a lady’s maid or a milliner?” She knew her skills were lacking, but she was desperate now.
The barma
