She hadn't dared to go near the house for some weeks. She had avoided the very street. Not so much because she was afraid of the Earl - she was, but that was another matter. But because her father had told her to stay away and she did not want to disobey him or be deceitful ever again. She had promised him and herself that she would be good.

But it was hard to be good in a world that wasn't right. The promise of money eventually lured her back, as much as the memory of money found in Simon's possession had kept her away for some time. If she managed to get enough money, she might be able to do something for Alice. She'd suffer her father's rage if that could save her. She'd compromise herself if it could buy Alice's health and freedom.

And so, dressed in her ordinary fishing clothes this time and with a wicker tray with coiled fishing lines under her arm, she stepped into the street she had been avoiding for the past few weeks. She glanced over her shoulder, but saw no one she knew. She made her way to the home as fast as she could without running and knocked on the door.

Please open fast, she prayed.