‘If there’s one thing Nettie, Beatrix, you, Janet, and even Captain Ross taught me,’ said Sorcha, ‘it’s that loss of money is a pain everyone feels.’

‘Depends how much pain a person can tolerate,’ muttered Janet.

They didn’t have to wait long to find out. Minutes later, there was hammering at the door.

Sorcha tensed and the words she’d spoken so bravely before dissolved into a puddle of dread. Memories of anger, blood, the glee of the men and the way they had treated Janet crowded her head. She could smell her fear. It wouldn’t do to let the others sense it.

‘Open in the name of the Queen!’ bellowed a deep voice.

One of the women squealed before pressing a hand over her mouth.

The relief that flooded Sorcha made her knees weak. ‘’Tis all right,’ she said. ‘It’s a friend.’

Gesturing for Jenny and Mimi to help her, Sorcha pushed the chest they’d used to barricade the door out of the way. In stepped Sergeant Thatcher, followed by four of his men. Still more stood guard outside, their dirks drawn, guns aimed down the street.

Upon seeing Janet, Sergeant Thatcher blanched. ‘Mrs Cornfoot,’ he gulped. ‘Glad to see you… alive.’ He glanced at Sorcha and Nettie. ‘I thought I told you two to go home.’

‘You did,’ said Sorcha.

Nettie bit back a laugh at his expression.

Sergeant Thatcher shook his head. ‘Captain Ross did warn me…’ he sighed. ‘The mob aren’t far behind us, I’m afraid, and now that my men are stationed about the cottage, it’s like we’ve hung a shingle over the door. They’ll know exactly where you are, Mrs Cornfoot.’

‘They would have found out eventually,’ said Janet.

The women clustered together by the window again, casting anxious looks outside, but not one of them left.

‘The good news is,’ continued the sergeant, ‘the council have assembled some men to help us. They’re making their way here. Once they arrive, we’ll make sure you are safe and comfortable, Mrs Cornfoot, then we’ll see to getting you back home.’

Janet shook her head, grimacing at the effort. ‘I’ll not be safe there nor comfortable. Not on my own.’ She held her ribs and winced. ‘I want you to take me to the Tolbooth.’

Sergeant Thatcher raised his brows. ‘You’re sure?’

‘It’s fortified,’ explained Sorcha. ‘And her friends are there.’ Mine too, she wanted to add. Hopefully, Mr Laing, Mr Lawson and Mr Adam and their companions had reached there safely.

They began to prepare Janet to be moved. Taking a shawl Jenny offered, Nettie draped it over Janet’s shaking shoulders. Mimi came forward with a hot beverage. ‘Here,’ she said. ‘Drink this. It has valerian and some feverfew. It will help ease your pain.’