MR BILLIONAIRE CHOICE

A real chance. Thoughtfully, I stared at the card aga

it would be the street for

, and their accommodations were probably similar. Of course, as a poor workhouse inmate, I wouldn't have the luxury of a cell to myself, and the food would probably be scarcer, because, unlike criminals, poor people don't generate paperwork when they die of hunger. But it was only to be expected that criminals would get better treatment. Af

ture that awaited me. Unle

the sudden bright glow, I blinked and shielded my eyes with my hand. I had been so deep in thought that I hadn't noticed how the time had flown by. Now I saw a faint o

appeared from around the corner. I could see him approach through the iron bars of t

naging to keep apprehension

rowned. 'What do ye me

n to me? How wil

ted to laugh. He continued to laugh for some time, holding his bel

every nutter running around in the streets, and then we'd be busy till kingdom come. Why, only the other day I met a man in a pub who told me that we're al

some recognition, at the very least, didn't it? A few years ago, at the Peterloo massacre, the authorities had come down hard on a crowd of working-class men demonstrating for their right to vote, resulting i

y shook

judge with this, he'd fine us for w

son, and I really didn't want to spend another night on that bunk bed. So, grudgingly, I rose and followed the con

rummaged around inside and came back with something big and black in his hand. 'There ye go, Miss,' he said in a stern and annoyingly fatherly manner, handin

myself, too quietly for him to hear: '

ld be. I had never entirely agreed with my aunt, who had always thought them of such great importance, and now I fi

up the walls or spouting feminist nonsense again at any moment. I was more than happy to oblige him and stepped out of the brick building into a glorious Saturday morning. The s

With six of us in the house, and ninety per cent of her brain cells occupied with saving housekeeping money, she sometimes forgot one

ve informed her that her dear niece was perfectly safe, though a bit bedraggled and sitting, dressed in men's clothes, in one of their cells. If she had heard

e small park looked like a fairy kingdom planted between the strict, orderly houses of middle-class London. A few birds were hopping on the grass, and the wind rip

ars ago, after our mother and father died and the estate went to the next male heir of the line. If you believed the stories of my older siblings, who could still remember the place, it had been a veritable palace with hundre

try well, and I didn't want to. I was a city girl, and the few trees and law

and the fresh morning breeze. The country was a nice thing, as long as it was in the middle of town

curtains and plain, orderly smoke curling out the chimney in a discreet and economical manner. The flowerbeds around the house were well-kept, but strict and simple. Everything was rectangular and neat. There wasn't a piece of decoration in s

y, when we had arrived at this house years ago, the room had been dusty and unused, and my uncle had never set foot in it. He had probably been afraid the a

it and taken possession before any of my sisters could complain. I had defended my conquest with my very life! Only Ella, my youngest

wall with the key I had secretly 'borrowed' from my uncle, along with his clothes and passport. Inside, I quickly made my way to the garden shed. Taking out the rickety old ladder that had been in there since time i

y muscles were aching from the night in the cell, and there seemed to be several large lead we

ous, after all, not f

task, then I hoisted myself inside and landed rather inelegantly on the floor. Done! I was back home, and nobody had seen me sneak in. I remained kneeling on the floor f

n she hadn't known anythin

blast