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turned to look at Morna. “Who says this?” she demanded.
                  “Why, everyone,” Morna replied, “and there’s not a one to claim her body, even! The Chief said he thinks her husband’s folk are from outside The Corvids, so who knows when they’ll claim the poor lass. Not that anyone rightly knows who or where that husband is, mind you, or where her own dear folk might be.”
                  Morna worked at a resistant knot in Arabel’s shiny hair, pulling her head this way and that. She tsked under her breath. “What’ve you done to your hair, missy?” she queried. “You’re all in knots, and you, not sleeping in your own bed last night!”
                  “Well it wasn’t what you think,” Arabel returned with a smirk, for even she knew the facts of life.
                  Morna finished up the brushing without further salacious comment but she did send a few sidelong glances at Arabel before she went to draw Arabel’s bath. Clearly there was more to this story than she was being told. Morna sniffed, a little put out that Arabel didn’t want to confide her womanly adventures to her, seeing as she told Arabel all of the juiciest gossip and even if she thought she might get in trouble with the sharing, Morna never omitted the best details.
                  “How long has the prayer circle been going on for this time?” Arabel asked.
                  Morna let out a long suffering sigh. “Mrs. Johnston has been locked in the parlour for the best of two days now. We leave the supper trays outside the door.” Morna shrugged her sturdy shoulders.  “I’m glad you’re home though, what with that girl from Magpie Moor gone missing and all!”
                  “What have you heard of that?” Arabel asked sharply, unaware that word would have traveled so quickly through the townships.
                  “She’s another one like the one from the Priory,” Morna said. “That’s the story I’ve been hearing.” She placed a fluffy white towel down beside the rim of the bathtub. “All these young women leaving their marriages – and not one of their scurvy lovers turning up to help figure it out or tuck them safely away!” Morna’s disgusted tone echoed Arabel’s own anger and the heat of it filled the room.
                  Arabel gladly stepped into the warm, fragranced water and felt it close around her like a favourite blanket. Her tired limbs and cold skin finally felt warmed. Arabel leaned back as Morna went to the door, lighting a few candles to keep the darkness at bay. Arabel hoped she wouldn’t fall asleep and drown in the bath, as all of a sudden, she felt incredibly tired from the strain of the last few days.
                  “Thank you, Morna,” Arabel said thickly before dunking her head under the water for a moment to warm her head. She lay soaking in the water for a long time, revelling in the warmth while thoughts swirled in her head like bees.
                  Two girls in such a short time. How many more were there to come and was Eli correct that this had been perhaps going on for some time? Arabel thrust her mind back over the last year – who had moved away or disappeared or been unaccounted for? She thought of the Gypsies – who could ever track them? She made a mental note to ask Eli to question them, to see if any of their numbers had vanished without word, or if anything suspicious had been going on in the last year or so. 
                  Arabel was curious about the Gypsies. She wondered what Eli’s parents were like. Did his mother share his long thick lashes and expressive almond brown eyes? Did Eli inherit his father’s lean, muscular build and softly curling brown hair? And where did those beautifully chiselled cheekbones come from?
                  And then Arabel laughed out loud. How can I possibly