“I have been considering your request, Lavinia. You will go to London and remain there until I decide otherwise.”
Her eyes burned, and the anger inside her was so deep, she ached to give it voice. “You have control of my life for now, Raile, but the time will come when I will turn the cards in my favor.”
“Until that day, Lavinia, pack your belongings and be ready to leave for London by noon tomorrow.”
She wanted to scream at him, to run at him and claw his face, but the look in his eyes frightened her. She turned, her back stiff, her breathing tight, and walked out of the room.
Raile looked down at the sleeping infant and stroked her soft skin. He felt a strong kinship with her. He knew what it was like to have no one care. This little girl was not going to suffer as he had as a child.
Adjusting the blanket that covered her, he walked out of the room.
Raile knocked on the door next to the nursery, which was answered by Mrs. Gibbins. “Keep the child with you tonight, and don’t leave her for any reason.”
If the wet nurse thought his request was a strange one, she did not say so. She watched him move away, and then went to the nursery and gathered the child in her arms.
11
Kassidy stood in the upstairs bedroom of the cottage where Abigail had lived. She avoided looking at the bed where her sister had writhed in pain and finally died in agony.
How sad it was that the man Abigail had loved—the man who had wronged her—denied even knowing her.
Aunt Mary was coming today, and the two of them would be closing up the cottage and packing Abigail’s belongings. Afterward, Kassidy would have to return to her brother’s house and face his anger.
The future seemed bleak and sad without her sister beside her. Sweet, kindhearted Abigail who was dead because of the hateful man who had seduced her and stolen her innocence, then deserted her in the end.
Kassidy’s heart ached for the baby she had left in the duke’s keeping. Was the child being properly cared for? What would that little girl’s life be like with such a cold, unfeeling man? It had been wrong to leave the baby with him. If Abigail had seen the man’s reaction when she had placed his daughter in his arms, surely her sister would expect her to reclaim the child.
Yes, she thought, that was what she would do. If she had the child with her, she could still hold on to a little part of Abigail.
With determined steps, she rushed out of the room and down the stairs. She would go back to Ravenworth Castle and take the child away with her!
Kassidy’s mind was racing ahead to what she would say when she again stood before the arrogant duke. He had been so uncaring about her sister, never once inquiring about Abigail. This time, she would let him know it was his fault that Abigail had died.
She glanced at the cloudless sky as she moved down the steps. The sun was shining, and the birds were singing in the nearby oak tree. The Thames ran high to its banks. The pleasant smell of cut grass permeated the air she breathed. It would have been a glorious day if only Abigail had been there to share it with her.
She walked to the back of the house and down a well-worn path that led to the woods. Perhaps Aunt Mary would go with her to Ravenworth Castle so she wouldn’t have to face the duke alone.
The brothers, Jack and Gorden Beale, had been born and grew up on Whitechapel Road, a place of poverty and crime.
Jack, the elder, was proficient at his chosen profession. As a lad he’d become a pickpocket—now he would employ any means necessary to line his own pockets.
Gorden Beale was cowardly and not as adept as his brother, but he was easily led by strong-willed Jack.
The two of them had been watching the cottage by the Thames for two days, waiting for a chance to catch Miss Maragon alone.
“What do we know about that woman who hired us, Jack? I was suspicious of her from the first when she sent word that we was to meet her at the Red Dragon Inn. Even though she tried to stay in the shadows with her face hidden behind that flimsy veil, I knew she was dressed too grand to be ‘Mrs. Harper from Billingsgate Street’ like she said.”
“All you need to know about her is that she has the means to hire us,” Jack reminded him, his eyes growing intense with speculation. “I never told you that I followed the woman to find out who she was. I waited until she came out of the inn and followed her coach to Mayfair, where she went into one of them fancy shops where they sell ladies’ hats.” A smile twisted Jack’s thin lips. “The shopkeeper greeted her as Mrs. DeWinter. It appears our mysterious woman is related to the duke of Ravenworth. The shopkeeper thought our woman is the duke’s stepma. We have here someone of great importance.”
“Did you find out anything else about her? Why does she hate this young girl so?”
“What do we care?
“I don’t like this, Jack. This ain’t just nobody we’re dealing with. The duke is a very powerful man. What if he don’t know what his stepma’s doing? I didn’t shrink from sticking a blade between that fancy toff’s ribs, when the woman paid us to do it, and it was easy making it look like footpads done it. But when she wants us to do in a high-born young lady, I don’t like it,” Gorden said. “I’m glad you decided against killing her.”
Jack stared at his brother with piercing, relentless eyes. “So, you’re turning squeamish on me, are you? I never thought you’d balk at any means of collecting a fee, be it foul or fair. Besides, if truth be known, what the girl will face might be far worse than death. You leave all the worrying to me. And you don’t have to like it, little brother. We get paid by DeWinter and we get paid by Tom Branson when we turn the Maragon girl over to him.”
“What does he want with her?”
“I suspect he’ll sell her to a brothel, but what do we care? Where she’s going, no one ever leaves. I thought it rather clever of me to get two prices for her,” Jack boasted.
“I hope DeWinter don’t find out we didn’t do what she hired us to do.”
“Will you stop grumbling? We’ll tell DeWinter the deed is done and she’ll believe us.”
“You did tell Brunson there must be no record of the girl. No one must know her whereabouts. You did make that known to him, didn’t you?”
“I’m not a fool, Gorden. Now shut up, and keep an eye out for the girl.”
“I still don’t like it. The girl’s family’s bound to start a hue and cry when they find out she’s missing. If they find her, it’ll go hard on us.”
“You fret like some old woman. I’m beginning to regret I brought you into this with me.”
Suddenly Jack saw movement at the edge of the woods, and he pulled Gorden behind a tree.
“Well, I’ll be damned. She’s coming straight at us.”
Kassidy was unaware that hostile eyes followed her movements. She did not see the two men who were crouched low behind the dense thicket along the footpath.
“It can’t be this easy,” Jack whispered, his gaze fastened on the girl. “Like a sheep being led to the slaughter, she falls into our hands.”
Kassidy had not realized she had come so deeply into the woods. She turned, with the intention of returning to the cottage, when a man stepped into her path.
At first she was startled by his sudden appearance, but she decided he must be from the village. There was nothing menacing in his eyes as he smiled at her.
The man removed his cap. “Morning, miss. Nice weather for a stroll,” he said respectfully.
She smiled and moved to step around him, but he barred her way.
“You Miss Maragon?” he asked, his manner suddenly changing.
“How did you know my name?” She watched his eyes dart behind her. With sudden fear in her heart, she spun around to see a second man move into the path, blocking her between them.
“What do you want?” Kassidy asked, moving to her left, only to find he moved with her.
The man behind her took her arm and held it in a viselike grip. “You can come with us peaceable, or you can make it
hard on yourself.”
She stared from one man to the other, fear pounding in her heart. “W ... what do you want with me?”
The stranger’s laughter was so menacing that shivers of fear danced across her spine.
“It ain’t so much what we want, miss. It seems there’s someone who don’t want you around no more. We’re just here to oblige ‘em.”
Kassidy’s eyes widened with terror, and she tried to wrench her arm free.
“Now don’t struggle, miss. I’m stronger than you, and you’ll just make me hurt you.”
Kassidy felt a scream building up in her throat, but it was smothered by the rough hand that clamped painfully over her mouth, constricting her breathing.
“I warned you, but you didn’t listen,” the man hissed in her ear. “You just made it hard on yourself.”
Kassidy felt pain explode in her head when the man struck her with a heavy instrument. Blackness enveloped her, and she fell limply to the ground.
“You killed her, Jack,” Gorden accused, as he went down on his knees to examine the girl, stroking her long blond hair. “She’s such a pretty one. Why would anyone want to harm her?”
Jack felt the girl’s strong pulse and lifted her in his arms. “That’s not for the likes of us to worry about. We better hurry before she’s missed,” he added, moving toward the river and the waiting boat they had secured there earlier. Placing Kassidy in the bottom of the boat, they pushed off in the direction of London.
Kassidy regained consciousness in total darkness. Her head ached, and when she tried to move, she found her feet and wrists were bound. Fear screamed through her mind when she remembered the two strangers she had encountered in the woods. Apparently they had made good their threat and were taking her away. But who had hired them to abduct her? And why? She closed her eyes, trying to hold onto her sanity. Her body trembled when she realized she was lying in the bottom of a small boat. Where were they taking her?
As she fought her way out of the thick haze of fear, Kassidy realized the men were talking in quiet whispers. They must think she was still unconscious, she thought.
“Jack,” Gorden said, plying the oars to the murky black water, “why do you suppose this DeWinter wants the girl out of the way?”
“How many times do I have to tell you that’s no concern of ours?” He sounded angry. “We just do what we’re told, and don’t ask why.”
A sob was building deep inside Kassidy. So the duke of Ravenworth had struck swiftly. She had not even entertained the notion that he might retaliate against her. What kind of monster was he?
“The girl’s awake, Jack. I saw her move. What’11 we do?”
One of the men laid his oars aside and knelt over her. He was only a vague outline against a pale moon. Kassidy tensed when he pushed her head over the side of the boat until she was almost touching the water.
“Did you hear anything we said?” There was a threat in his voice. “Speak girl—did you?”
She realized it would mean her death if this man knew she had overheard him. “Where am I?” she asked in a small voice, deliberately acting vague. “Why have you done this to me?”
He released her and she fell back, landing hard against the bottom of the boat. Kassidy felt as if she were bruised all over, and her head throbbed painfully. Terror was so strong it pushed every thought except survival out of her mind. “Why are you doing this?” she asked.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Jack remarked with a smirk. “Someone wants you to disappear, never to be heard from again.” His laughter was evil and had a grating tone. “I have thought of a way so you’ll never be trouble to no one again. My brother, he’s been wondering what you did to stir up so much hate against you.” He laughed. “Never mind the reason. You just angered the wrong person, Miss Maragon.”
Kassidy huddled in the corner of the boat, frantically wondering what they were going to do to her. If they had wanted to kill her, surely they would have drowned her while she was unconscious. Where were they taking her?
It seemed like an eternity that they skimmed across the Thames. At one point Kassidy saw bright lights in the distance and knew they were nearing London.
As the docks came within sight, a heavy fog shrouded the city. When the boat bumped against the pier, one of the men gripped her arm and held her fast. When she struggled, he growled in her ear.
“Remember what happened to you before. You don’t want me to hurt you again, do you?”
She shook her head, too frightened to speak. Suddenly he shoved a flask at her and urged her to drink. When she shook her head, he grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her.
“Drink—now!”
Too frightened to refuse again, Kassidy took the bitter liquid in her mouth and swallowed it with a painful gulp. Before she could protest, she was lifted in the man’s arms and carried ashore.
As he walked along, she felt her head swimming and knew she had either been drugged or poisoned. If it was poison, she hoped it would work fast. At the moment, she prayed for death, as she felt an unspeakable horror awaited her.
She thought of the defenseless baby she had placed in the duke’s keeping. She hoped fate would deal more kindly with the child than it had with her or her sister.
Her last conscious thought was hatred toward the duke. Someday he would get what he deserved, and she hoped it could be she who unmasked his evil. She could still see his face, and it was as if he were mocking her—then she was lost in oblivion.
Kassidy had been blindfolded, and the inky darkness was terrifying. She did not know how long she had been unconscious, and even now her mind was still groggy. She could tell she was being carried over one of the men’s shoulders, and it was horrifying not to know where they were taking her. She tried to cry out, but because of the drug they had forced on her, her throat was dry and her tongue felt thick.
She heard the grating of an iron door swing open on rusty hinges, and she tried to fight off the heavy weariness that pressed in on her, but her eyes fluttered and closed, and she was lost in a world where fear could not follow.
She was unaware of the money that exchanged hands between her two captors and another man, or that the other man took possession of her limp body.
When Kassidy again regained consciousness, her blindfold had been removed and someone was carrying her down a long dark passageway.
The man set her on her feet, and she felt rough hands on her body and someone forcing her face into the lantern light.
“You’re a pretty one,” a gruff voice said. “I’ll get a good price for you from Madame Ratcliff.”
Kassidy looked at her new captor in horror. The loathsome man appeared to be wearing a uniform, but she couldn’t be sure because his clothing was filthy and smelled foul. He was tall and muscled. His nose appeared to have been broken at one time, for it lay flat against his cheeks. A long scar ran from his eyebrow down the side of his face to his lip, giving him a menacing appearance.
Kassidy wanted to scream when he ran his filthy hand up her arm, and she did manage to flinch away from his touch.
The man grinned as if he derived some sort of pleasure from her misery, and there was a vicious light in his eyes as she staggered, trying to keep her balance. Finally she stumbled backward and leaned against the cold stone wall for support.
In the distance, she heard groans of despair and cries of pain from others who must also be trapped somewhere in this dark maze of agony.
“Where am I?” Kassidy asked in a haze of pain and bewilderment.
“Some call it Newgate, little lady,” the man told her, “but you’ll call it hell.”
12
Kassidy trembled with fear as she looked at the huge man. He had little black eyes, and there was something evil about the way he leered at her.
“Please help me,” she beseeched him.
He didn’t seem to hear her words. He ran a hand down her arm, and turned her around, looking her over carefully with a satisfied gleam in his
eyes. “You’re a beauty, all right. I’ll get my price back for you and more.”
“What are you going to do with me?”
“Oh, you may ask. I’ll take you to a lady I know who’ll see that you learn all the ways to please a man. Newgate ain’t nothing like the prison you’ll find at Madame Ratcliffs.”
He ran his hand down her face. “But before I take you to her, it won’t damage the goods none if I have a go at you first.”
Kassidy backed away from him, a scream rising in her throat. “I’ll die before I allow you to touch me.”
“No, you won’t die.” He loomed over her. “You may even like what I do.”
She felt revulsion rise up inside her. “I’ll scream if you touch me.”
His eyes hardened, and he raised up his hand to deliver a stunning blow to her jaw. Kassidy crumpled to the floor and knew nothing after that.
Tom Brunson lifted her limp body and carried her down the long hallway, up a flight of stairs to a cell that was apart from the others. He lay her on the straw mattress on the floor and chained her wrists to the wall.
He stood over Kassidy, taking in her fragile beauty. With a grunt of regret that he must leave and make his rounds, he turned to the door and locked it behind him.
Frantic excitement throbbed through him. After he made his rounds, he had two other girls to deliver to Madame Ratcliff. Then he’d come back to this one. Only when he tired of her would he take her to Leman Street.
Tom Brunson had made the most of his position at Newgate, thanks to Madame Ratcliff’s establishment. As head keeper of the cells in solitary, where the troublemakers were confined, he had found wealth in transporting women of looks to Madame Ratcliff’s brothel. He had devised a clever way to sneak them out of Newgate, where the poor wretches would make money for him by lying on their backs. Sometimes the women were agreeable, preferring to sell their bodies instead of remaining in solitary—sometimes not.
Even if a woman objected, it mattered but little. After Tom put the fear of the devil in them, they never caused him trouble, and never reported him to the warden. Before a woman’s term of confinement was over, he would bring her back without anyone being the wiser.
Song Of The Nightingale (DeWinter's Song 1) Page 9