Page 7 of The Swindler’s Daughter

“Shall I go higher?”

He growled. “Go on with you. Take your extra measure,” he said, scooping another handful into the pouch that contained my original request. He tossed it to me and then held out his hand for payment.

I gave him a brilliant smile and handed over the three coppers. “Always lovely to see you, Selworth,” I said and slipped away while he grumbled.

After collecting everything on my list, I made my way back through the market, this time enjoying the sights and smells, the hustle and hurry.

A commotion caught my attention. Shouts of protest and surprise rumbled through the crowd.

I pushed up on my toes, trying to see what the ruckus was about. Shock rippled through me when Johnny came rushing through the crowd, elbowing his way past the others. He kept looking over his shoulder as though someone was chasing him. Was he in trouble?

As he neared, I called out to get his attention. “Johnny! What’s going on?”

His eyes locked with mine, and he immediately veered my way, shoving a bundle into my hands and then pulling my cloak over it.

“What are you—” I started to protest.

“Keep this for me. Please, Miri?” His eyes pled for understanding.

“I—” I did not understand, and I didn’t get the chance to, because Rowan caught up to Johnny and grabbed his arm.

“We have to go, John!” Rowan insisted.

Johnny stumbled a few steps, giving me one more desperate look before chasing after his friend.

I stared at their retreating backs, flummoxed and frozen until another disturbance pulled my attention in the opposite direction. A constable was now fighting his way through the crowd, his face red with anger and exertion.

I turned away to better conceal the parcel that Johnny had entrusted to me, waiting until the constable’s angry shouts faded. Then I quickly stuffed the package beneath the collection of items in my large basket and went on my way, refusing to make eye contact with those around me. One or more of them might have seen exactly what had happened and could point the lawman in my direction.

What had Johnny done? Had Rowan dragged him into it? Or was this Johnny’s idea? I quickened my steps, anxious to get out of the market.

The road that ran through Murrwood Forest from the village to Sutton Manor was familiar and usually comfortable. But the tall trees and the rustling breeze made me anxious as I walked along with the strange bundle hidden away in my basket. Once I was far enough outside the village that there was no one else on the road with me, I set down my basket and dug inside, pulling out the parcel Johnny had thrust into my hands.

It certainly had weight. Though it looked to be a bundle of rags, I could feel that whatever was inside was significant. I quickly unwound the rags until a leather pouch fell out. It made a distinct jingling sound when it landed in my hands.

A money pouch.

My eyes darted around, ensuring that no one was in sight on the road. I weighed the pouch in my hand. By the heft of it, I would guess there were perhaps twenty coins inside.

Curse it.

I rewrapped the pouch in its rags and stuffed it deep inside my basket, cursing Rowan’s and Johnny’s names all the way home. What were they thinking? And how dare they drag me into it! I’d spent my childhood on the wrong side of the law; I could not, would not, return there now.

Rowan and Johnny were stealing. Not just a piece of fruit off an apple cart but an entire pouch of coins.

When I reached the edge of Sutton property, I slipped into the woods. I could not bring a stolen bag of coins into the house with me. What if someone found them? What if I lost them?

Instead I walked along the stream that ran through the woods until I found a spot at the base of a tree and dug a shallow hole where I could bury it. Before placing the pouch into the hole, I unwrapped it once more, and this time I pulled the top open and poured the contents into my hands. I’d been wrong: there were twenty-seven coins that spilled into my palm. Two gold pieces, five silver pieces, eight coppers, and twelve bits. I’d never held so much at once before, and I’d never held a gold piece in my hand. My father had always collected my earnings each day, and he usually spent it before he could accumulate any real amount. I lifted my hand until I found a patch of sunlight and then admired the coins as they glinted.

Then I snatched my hand closed and shoved the coins back into the pouch. After pulling the strings tight and wrapping it back in the rags, I tucked it into the hole, pushing dirt over it and using branches and leaves to conceal it further. I stood and took a good look around, making certain that I knew exactly where it was and how to come back to it, before grabbing my basket and hurrying through the woods, past the pasture filled with horses, past the garden, and into the kitchen.

I’d been dragged into a thieving plot by my thieving friend and my thieving teacher.

I set the basket on the counter and hung my shawl behind the door, my movements stiff with anger and worry.

“Are you all right, Miri?”

I turned toward Emeline, who stood at the counter, peeling potatoes. “What?” I asked, worried that she somehow knew I had just buried a bag of stolen goods on the property.