She nearly slipped on a greasy newspaper before righting herself against the alley wall with a gloved hand. There goes another pair. The creeping fog this close to the river front made it difficult for Nicolette to see the full extent of the damage, but the familiar sliminess between her fingers told her she did not want to look closely at that wall. Gripping the heavy basket tighter in her other hand, she refocused on the doorway at the end of the alley. Such a familiar place by day, the misty night ate away at her comfort in navigating the back lanes of London, particularly this close to the river. Bad things happen near the river.
The reassurance of the dim lantern hanging over the frame drew her quickly forward. Stepping up on the stone stoop, she knocked and listened to the fast-approaching footsteps with relief. When the door opened, a pool of warm light and the clatter of noisy children eating supper spilled out around her.
"Lady Nicolette! Come inside before you catch your death from the night air!" Mary moved herself out of the doorway to allow Nicolette entry. Mary's flour-dusted apron and frazzled hair exuded cosy domesticity, but her shoulders were tense. "What have you brought us tonight, then? We were worried we wouldn't see you this week."
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