The back door of the tea shop slammed shut behind Augusta as she burst into the alley. A simple, covered wagon was waiting for her, a far cry from the elegant carriages she was used to, but it was a vehicle of escape. She scrambled onto the driver's box, her fine dress catching on a splinter of wood. Fredrick sat holding the reins, a look of mild surprise on his face.
"You're done already?" he asked, expecting her to have taken longer.
"Go. Now!" Augusta shouted, her voice a raw, panicked command.
Without another word, Fredrick flicked the reins. The single, sturdy horse pulling the wagon lurched forward, its hooves splashing through the puddles as they clattered out of the alley and onto the main street. A moment later, Constable Davies and his men rushed out of the tea shop, their expressions grim. Davies saw the wagon turning the corner at the end of the street.
