Susan awoke late. The events of the previous day, and perhaps, more unexpectedly, the evening that followed it, had taken their toll. She had not been able to leave Thurloe’s chambers early on account of her indisposition, but equally it had allowed her to avoid staying late, as well as ensuring that he postpone his parsley-sweetened plans. On arriving back at her lodgings Susan had taken a sleeping draught of her own concoction. It was both swift and long-acting. The sun was well past its zenith when she finally stirred. The fog in her head took a little longer to dissipate, but as it did so, it presaged a day of revelation.

‘I must visit the apothecary, today,’ she said. Not for the first time did she bemoan the fact that her current circumstances did not allow for a lady’s maid. There appeared to be little that she was not having to sacrifice in order that the Knot might survive. Or, she thought to herself, perhaps it was more accurate to say that there was little that Edward was unwilling to have her sacrifice.

Susan washed, dressed, and sat at her makeshift desk in her room. She sharpened her quill and opened her pot of ink. It was dried-up. A splash of urine failed to revive it suitably so she placed paper, ink pot, wax and seal into her medicine bag, slung it over her shoulder and set off to the Bailey. It was an area which made a chill run down the spine of anyone who tended to live at odds with the law of the land, for it was here that the capital’s criminal courts resided, and the resultant flow of miscreants along its streets made the Covent Garden regulars appear to be positively shining examples of urban health and moral rectitude. Her journey was without incident, in itself rarely to be remarked upon other than she was not in a state of mind that would have allowed her to react in the manner she would usually choose. Her fatigue and general confusion with regards recent events made it more likely that she would respond to, say, an attempt to relieve her of her purse with instinctive force rather than considered subtlety.