With Gaynor remaining in the room behind us, the officers ushered me out, one with his hand near my lower back. I stiffened, saying, “I can find James’s room myself, thanks.”

He smirked. “Not a chance. We’re not quite finished yet.”

I paused. This did nothing to ease my worry about an impending arrest. What had the nurse told the officer on the phone? Whatever it was, he felt he needed to accompany me.

As we made our way down the hospital corridor, silent other than the heavy stomping of the officers’ boots, my spirits remained low. James’s room was just ahead, and it was with a sense of dread that I awaited what he meant to say to me—and the officers flanking my sides.

29

Eliza

February 11, 1791

My legs began to burn soon after leaving the alley, and my left foot started to blister, the swollen skin rubbing against my worn shoe with each stride. I gasped for air and a sharp pain, like an ice pick, left me clutching my rib cage. Everything in my body begged me to stop, stop.

The constables were twenty strides from us now, perhaps less. How had they found us? Had they followed me from Lady Clarence’s estate, even though I took a winding, complicated route? There were only two of them; the third constable must have stayed behind, or perhaps he could not keep up. They chased after us, this pair of wolves, like we were rabbits—their supper.

Where was the wolfsbane now?

But we stayed ahead of them. We did not carry rings of iron on our uniform or have stomachs heavy with ale. And even in her weakened state, Nella was faster than the constables. As they pursued us, the distance grew greater by three, five, six strides.

With the instinct of prey, I motioned for Nella to follow as I made a sharp turn left onto a small alley. We raced to the very back—the constables having not yet come around the corner to see where we’d gone—and found ourselves at a cobbled walking path leading to another alley. I grabbed Nella’s hand and pulled her forward. She winced at some pain, but I ignored it. There was no room for pity in my fear-stricken heart.

I wanted desperately to look behind us, to see if the constables had turned onto the alley and were quick on our heels, but I resisted. Forward, forward. A stinging sensation crawled across my collarbone. Not slowing my steps, I glanced down, expecting to see a bee or some other biting insect. Instead, it was one of the vials pressing uncomfortably against my skin as I ran, as if I needed a reminder that the minutes were passing too slowly, and it was not yet time for the tincture.