Marian paced back and forth in her room. It would be the perfect time. The Sheriff and Guy would both be too busy, with the protesting man's death, and the people fearful of the plague and the barricades, to pay much attention to her. She needed fast food, and medicine. She waited, pacing, trying to think of where to go first, how and when. Who needed to see her, what alibi.
Glad when the door to her chamber opened and she turned, opening her mouth, only to draw back. That was not the face she was expect. This younger, mousy brown hair girl, with her Amy-like up-turned nose, and hopeful apology written all over her expression, timidly stepping in, carrying a washed dress, and closing the door behind her. "Where's Sarah?"
"Don't you know?" The girl said quickly. "She lives in Pitt Street."
( Marian felt her heart clench. )