Love Disguised Read Online Free

away because the work was too hard. When he smiled Meg saw his teeth were starting to rot.
    â€œI’m an orphan too,” said Peter. “You’re better off with no father than with one that beats you.” He showed Meg his broken nose. It made a clicking sound when he moved it from side to side.
    When dusk fell she simply followed Davy and Peter through the city, across the great bridge to Southwark, and down Crooked Lane to the sign of the cock, a ruined shop they called their den. There she slept on what remained of the second floor, a narrow loft reached by a ladder. The boys’ den was crammed with broken bits of furniture, empty sacks, and moldering cloth. The single window was always shuttered, making it dark within, though here and there could beseen an unexpected gleam from a piece of gold braid, a ring, or an embroidered purse. Meg wondered but dared not ask how Davy and Peter had come to own such rich trifles. She was simply grateful for a place to sleep and companions against her loneliness.
    Meg continued to pretend she was a boy. She had seen girls her age strolling along the wharves who were already bawds. She understood what had happened between her mother and the priest. She did not tell Peter or Davy that her mother was a murderess, though she suspected this would raise her in their esteem. Her companions talked much about crime. Davy had even been arrested. Through him Meg learned that the magistrate’s mercy had a price. If her mother could have paid it, her father would still be alive. The sight of beggars saddened her, and when they were kicked and spat upon it roused her to anger.
    Davy and Peter often resorted to St. Paul’s Church. Meg accompanied them and was filled with amazement. No one prayed but rather strolled in a great crowd up and down the nave as casually as if it were a street. Peter thrust a purse into her hand and whispered, “Run!” She obeyed, fleeing so fast that her heels kicked her rump. When the boys caught up with her they were gleeful.
    â€œHow were we to know he was a fleet-foot?” Peter said as they congratulated each other. “He’ll be an asset to our trade.”
    Meg asked what that was, for she had never seen them labor or trade in anything.
    â€œOur business is to unburden persons of that which they take no proper care of,” Davy explained, showing his black grin.
    â€œWhy, you are thieves!” said Meg.
    â€œSo are you,” said Peter, scowling. “You’d be dead as a doornail if you hadn’t been stealing food all this while.”
    Meg fell silent at the truth of his words.
    â€œCome, you minnow!” said Davy, prodding her. “What wrong is there in relieving the rich of their excess? We will show you how it’s done.”
    Meg, who was tired of being poor through no fault of her own, consented. It became her job to spy out a careless or aimless person and signal to Peter where the gull wore his purse. While Davy engaged him in conversation, Peter, with a flick of a knife against a horn-covered thumb, cut his purse strings. He passed the purse to Meg, who stuffed it down the front of her trousers, where its weight caused her no small discomfort. Her mind was also uneasy, but she put aside her misgivings rather than offend her only friends.
    With Meg’s small share of the purse she bought herself a simple doublet and hose and a velvet cap. She was keeping a close eye on her slim body lest it grow round and betray her. The way Davy and Peter talked about women caused her to blush, even made her a little fearful. She dropped the remaining coins through the grate of the Wood Street jail so the prisoners could purchase bread or a blanket from their jailers.
    Davy and Peter spent their larger share on the fashionable clothing gallants wore and lost the rest gaming.
    Not every day was given to cutting purses. Some days they enjoyed innocent pranks. Meg’s favorite was to climb the