“You should be tired, Mina. I’ve worked you to the bone today.”
“Hardly that!” she protested. “I kept long hours as a schoolmistress. When you’ve boarders to take care of, there are no set working hours.”
“Well, go to sleep now,” he growled. “No more talking. You’re going to be busy over the next few days. I’m trying to be a considerate husband.”
The next day, which was Tuesday passed in a whirl of activity at The Merry Harlot. They made batch after batch of the crescent meat pies that Edna called pasties. They dressed and tidied all the bedrooms on the first floor and Mina polished windows and mirrors until they gleamed. They did not get any arrivals until early evening when Mina looked up from her simple meal of pie and mash to see a smart carriage had pulled into the yard. Nye hurried out from the stable to greet the new arrivals.
“Do you recognize who that gentleman is, Edna?” Mina asked as she rose from the table to take the empty plates to the sink. A dapper looking gentleman of middling height was climbing out of the carriage to grasp Nye’s hand.
“Jones, I think his name is,” Edna said, glancing outside without much interest. “He arranges the matches, so I believe. Nasty business,” she concluded sourly.
Mina noted his handlebar moustache, bright blue coat, and rather garish yellow waistcoat with interest. “He’s certainly a very natty dresser,” she observed lightly.
“Not the word I’d use for it,” Edna replied.
Mr. Jones turned and reached up to the carriage, helping down a lady dressed in purple silk with a matching fringed parasol, despite the fact it was an evening in early April. Her black curls were piled exceedingly high on her head and topped with a hat covered in purple butterflies. She was not exactly pretty or in the first flush of youth, but she certainly drew the eye. On her left rouged cheek was a large beauty spot which somehow seemed to add to her attraction, rather than detract. “Is that his wife with him?” she asked.
Edna sniffed. “Calls her his ‘business partner’, he does.” She lowered her voice. “But they share the same bedroom and that’s a fact. You go on and take your wash, Mrs. Nye,” Edna urged her. “I can finish up in here. There’s water just boiling on the range for you to use. You don’t want to be running into any of these folks if you can help it.”
Mina tarried a moment, to see how Nye would greet the purple-clad lady, but other than a nod he barely seemed to acknowledge her. Feeling too tired for an excess of curiosity, she had a wash and took herself off to bed. Nye did not come up to join her until midnight, but when he did, he curled around her and fell into a deep sleep almost immediately and Mina joined him.
Wednesday dawned with a very blue sky and bright sunshine despite the bite in the air. Mina hurried down to breakfast informally in the kitchen and immediately noticed unfamiliar faces milling about the yard outside the window.
“Folks have started arriving,” Edna confirmed, following the direction of Mina’s gaze. “We’ve had two coaches already before eight.”
“Good gracious,” Mina observed, raising her teacup to her lips.
“Soon as it’s noon they’ll start swilling ale,” Edna said bitterly. “You just see if they don’t.”
“I’ll get started on the vegetables for the roast dinner as soon as I’ve finished my toast,” Mina reassured her.
Edna nodded. “The mutton’s already in the oven, roasting with rosemary and garlic for the evening meals. If you do the veg, then we’re as prepped as can be expected.”
Mina moved to take charge of the piles of carrots, beets, and turnips and commenced duties there.
Once they were peeled and chopped and set into pans of cold water, she moved them to the side where they could be placed on the range when needed.
New arrivals kept sweeping into the yard and making their way through to the public bar and even sitting in the sunshine outside on a low wall with their tankards.
Edna was forced to run in and out of the kitchen, trying to cover her many duties. She had only just started bearing the stacked platters of hot pasties into the barroom when she was called away again to show another couple up to the bedchamber they had paid for.
“Mrs. Nye,” she said with an agonized glance at the piping hot pastries. “I knows as how you’re supposed to stay out of sight, but I don’t suppose—”
“Never fear, Edna. I am sure I can carry the last of these through without catching anyone’s attention.”
The harried maid smiled at her and darted out into the hallway. Mina’s prediction proved true for the first two platters which she carried through without comment. For the third and final platter however, she was not so lucky.
Mina set the laden dish down on the nearest table to the door and turned to make her escape. She almost collided with a solid figure standing there. It was one of the prizefighters who had stepped into her path.
“Careful, miss.” He laughed, throwing his hands up. “No need to flee before us. We’re not as scary as all that I hope!” He looked her up and down. “You’ll be Ivy’s replacement, then?”
“No, I—”
A second boxer stepped forward. “I remember you,” he hailed her cheerfully. “You were here last time. You came into my room, then ran away before we could get acquainted.” He grinned at her.
Mina’s eyes widened with surprise. “I’m sure I did no such thing!” she denied promptly. Then she frowned, for now she looked at him, it did seem to stir some hazy memory. All at once, she recalled him sprawled out on a mattress on the floor, waiting for Ivy to finish with the occupant of the next room. “Oh,” she said uncomfortably, raising a hand to her lips.
“You remembered me now?” he asked. “Few people could forget this face,” he boasted with a wink, displaying his profile obligingly for her. He was good looking, she acknowledged with his tanned face and nut-brown hair. “You should have stuck around. I never object to passing the time of day with a pretty woman.”
Mina looked frowning from one to the other. They looked remarkably similar with their long, lean builds and twinkling hazel eyes. “Are you brothers?” she asked.
“That’s us, I’m Jack Toomes and this here’s my brother Frank.”
“We’ve another brother fights too, but he couldn’t make it here tonight,” said Frank stroking his sideburns. “He’s—er—indisposed.” From the gleam in his eye, Mina guessed the third brother was up to something even more reprehensible than fighting.
“’Ere, you boys,” interrupted a villainous-looking old woman from a few tables away. “You blind? That ain’t no doxy.” She gave a toothless cackle that seemed to echo in her memory. “You’re wastin’ your time trying to sweet talk this one, she’s took,” she said, knocking back a large glass of gin.
Frank and Jack’s heads whipped around. “What you talkin’ about, Ma?” Jack demanded.
“We’ll see who’s wasting their time,” said Frank. “You workin’ the bar tonight?” he asked, turning back to Mina. “What time do you finish your shift?”
“I don’t actually serve behind the bar,” Mina started to explain. “You see—”