Song Of The Nightingale (DeWinter's Song 1)

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Song Of The Nightingale (DeWinter's Song 1) Page 12

by Constance O'Banyon


  The warden’s eyes filled with dread. “I want only to cooperate with you, your grace. I’ll help in any way I can to make certain this doesn’t happen again.”

  To Kassidy, everything was a blur. When she could focus, she saw the face of the man she hated most in the world.

  “No,” she moaned. “Not another nightmare. Don’t touch me. I’m frightened of you. Go away—go away.”

  Elspeth tapped the duke on the shoulder. “Be you responsible for this?” She pointed a bony finger at Kassidy. “She’s a good one and deserves better.”

  Raile scooped Kassidy up in his arms and peered down at the girl whose eyes bore into him. “She will come to no harm from me.”

  “She better not, or I’ll find you when I’m out of here—and I get out soon.”

  The warden shoved Elspeth back against the bars.

  “Here, now, don’t you be bothering his grace. Get on out with the others and take your exercise.”

  Elspeth edged toward the door. “I’ll go, but you best heed my warning. I know who you are, and I’ll hunt you down if you hurt her.” With a last look at Kassidy, she darted through the door and down the corridor.

  Kassidy wasn’t certain if she was dreaming. But if she was, she wanted to awaken. Fearfully, she reached out and touched Raile’s face. This was no dream. He was real. What new torture had he in mind for her? she wondered in desperation.

  She was too weak to fight him. Let him do what he would with her, she was just too weary to care.

  Raile saw the fear in Kassidy’s eyes and wished there was some way he could reassure her that he had come to help her.

  “It’s all right,” he said soothingly. “I’m taking you out of here.”

  Her eyes blinked. She tried to move out of his arms, but he held her fast. When he enfolded her in his cloak, she wondered if he wanted to smother her.

  “No, please don’t hurt me anymore,” she whispered through parched lips. “Just... let me die.”

  Raile felt his heart contract. “You are safe now, Miss Maragon. Please put your trust in me.”

  Closing her eyes, Kassidy went limp in his arms.

  All through the long day Kassidy dwelled in a nightmarish world of pain and torment. She knew she was no longer in Newgate, but where was she? Wherever it was, she was being tortured.

  Forceful voices urged her to roll over, and her gown was stripped over her head. Someone was bathing her in cool water, while she shivered with cold. She was then dressed in a fresh gown and forced to use energy she did not possess. She only wanted to be left alone to die.

  Once, there was a man hovering over her, spooning foul-tasting liquid into her mouth. She was sure she was being poisoned, or they were drugging her once more.

  At times she wished herself back in Newgate where she wouldn’t be poked and prodded and no one would demand she awaken from her dreamworld.

  Kassidy would have been much more frightened had she known that she had been brought to the duke of Ravenworth’s town house.

  Since Lady Mary was away from London searching for her niece, Raile was trying to get word to her. In the meantime, he had assumed responsibility for Kassidy and installed her in his town house. He sent for Dr. Worthington.

  Raile stood outside her bedroom, feeling helpless. In anger, he moved to the stairs, ready to confront Lavinia and Hugh.

  He burst into the dining room, his face a mask of fury. “I asked you both here for a reason. Come to my study at once,” he demanded.

  Lavinia took a sip from her wineglass and studied his face. “What can be so important that we must interrupt our meal? Has it to do with Doctor Worthington being here?”

  Hugh noticed the dangerous glint in Raile’s eyes. “Perhaps we should do as he says, Mother.”

  “Unless you want the servants to know about family matters, I suggest you both come with me now,” Raile ground out. Without another word, he spun on his heels and left the room. Lavinia placed her napkin on the table and slid her chair back. There was speculation in her eyes. “Come, Hugh, let us see what’s plaguing Raile tonight.” Her voice was laced with sarcasm. “I’m sure it won’t be a pleasant encounter.”

  “Raile,” she announced airily, settling herself in a leather chair in the study, “have you no better manners than to—“

  “I have not called you here for a lesson in manners, madame.” His voice was controlled, but his eyes showed his leashed anger.

  “Then what do you want?” Hugh asked, picking up an antique snuffbox and examining it lazily.

  Raile stood before his brother. “What would you say if I told you I have talked to Jack Beale?”

  Hugh shrugged. “Then I would ask you, who the hell is Jack Beale?”

  Raile was relieved. He believed his brother. Hugh had never been able to hide his feelings. It was obvious he knew nothing about his mother’s dealings with Jack Beale.

  Raile turned his attention to his stepmother, who was tightly gripping the arm of the chair, her face white, her eyes veiled. “And you, Lavinia.” He moved to stand over her. “Would you say the same? Do you know Jack Beale?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Raile. Is there something you are accusing me of?”

  “I already know of your guilt, Lavinia. I have proof that you had Miss Maragon abducted and placed in Newgate.”

  Lavinia was shocked for a moment, but only because she hadn’t known that the Maragon girl still lived.

  She managed to answer Raile in an even voice and state quite honestly: “I know nothing about Miss Maragon being in Newgate.”

  “What’s this?” Hugh asked in amazement. “Abigail’s in Newgate?”

  Lavinia came to her feet and walked to the desk, where she ran her fingers over the smooth surface. “I did not have anyone taken to Newgate, Raile,” she repeated. “But make no mistake about this, my son will not be tied to that woman.”

  “Madame, I have learned about your little scheme to be rid of Miss Maragon.” His words were clipped as if he were barely holding onto his temper. “You could have saved yourself so much trouble. You see, you had the wrong girl.”

  She stared at him with her mouth open—shock clearly written on her face. “What are you saying?”

  “It’s true, Lavinia.” His eyes hardened like stones. “We all supposed the girl who came to Ravenworth Castle was Abigail Maragon, when in truth, Abigail died in childbirth. The one I met was her sister, Kassidy Maragon.”

  Hugh’s face whitened. “Abigail’s dead?”

  “Yes, Hugh, she’s dead,” Raile said, feeling revulsion for Hugh and his mother. “You left Abigail Maragon to bear your child alone and she died. I hope you realize that what you did to her was reprehensible.”

  Lavinia linked her arm through Hugh’s. “He did nothing, Raile, and I won’t allow you to blame him. It was the girl’s frivolous actions that caused her death.”

  Hugh shook his mother’s hand off his arm and walked to the window, where he stood staring out. “She died, and I never knew it. I loved Abigail,” he murmured, knowing he meant it. There was an emptiness in his heart, and he wanted to be alone, to think about the peaceful days he had spent with his wife in the cottage beside the river.

  “The time for lamenting has passed, Hugh,” Raile said harshly. “You should have been there while she was alive.”

  For the first time in Hugh’s life, he felt ashamed. “I never meant to leave her.”

  “As for you, madame,” Raile said, turning back to Lavinia. “You had better pray that Kassidy Maragon doesn’t die as a result of your actions. Make no mistake about it, if she does, I’ll turn you over to the magistrate. And should she survive and wish to see you punished, I’ll see that you are. In such case, the DeWinter name will not save you.”

  Lavinia saw the contempt in Raile’s eyes and trembled with fear. He did not make idle threats. If he said he would turn her over to the magistrate, he would. “You can’t prove I did anything wrong,” she said de
fiantly.

  “Oh, but I can, Lavinia. You and I are not the only ones who know about your part in all this.”

  “You go too far, Raile,” Hugh exploded. “I know you hate my mother, but to suggest she would harm someone .. .”

  Raile sneered. “Ask your mother about the midnight trip to the nursery where your daughter lay, and then tell me she wouldn’t harm a total stranger.”

  Hugh looked uncertain. “I don’t believe you,” he said at last, but there was no conviction in his voice.

  Raile smiled without humor. “I would believe anything of her, Hugh. You just haven’t stood in her way when she wants something—and I pray you never do.”

  Lavinia’s eyes narrowed. “I would fight you and the whole world to save my son, no matter what you say.”

  “But who, madame, will save your son from you?”

  Lavinia’s eyes blazed her hatred for Raile.

  “Enough,” he said, when she would have spoken. “I will hear no more of your lies. You and Hugh will vacate my home no later than tomorrow. I will no longer abide either of you living under my roof.”

  “Are you sending us back to the country?” Hugh asked, not wanting to leave London.

  “Where you go, Hugh, and what you do, is no longer any concern of mine. But you will not occupy any of my houses.”

  Hugh looked confused. “Then where—“

  Lavinia held up her hand to silence her son. “Surely you aren’t going to turn us out without any means of support.”

  “Not at all. Hugh has his allowance and I have something for you.” Raile moved to his desk, opened a drawer, and counted out several stacks of coins. He held them out to Lavinia, and when she wouldn’t take them, dropped the money into her hand.

  “One hundred pounds, madame. The amount you promised to pay Jack Beale.” His eyes bore into her. “I would not try to enlist Mr. Beale’s help again, Lavinia. You see, I bought his loyalty, and he will report only to me.”

  Lavinia was bravest when she was cornered. “Surely you don’t expect me to live on this pittance,” she scoffed. She flung the money down, and it scattered across the floor. “I don’t need your charity, Raile.”

  Raile moved to the door before turning back to her. “You might not want to be so frivolous with the money, madame. You will get no more from me. I will allow you to take one of the coaches and the six grays, and your personal effects, but nothing more. Remember, I said I want you both gone from here by tomorrow.”

  After Raile departed, Hugh went down on his knees, gathering up the scattered coins. “I’ve never seen Raile so incensed.”

  “Oh, shut up. Are you so witless you don’t understand the consequences of Raile’s anger? I will have to move into the pitiful house your father left me. My existence will become a drudgery. My friends will pity me— I will become a nonentity. It will no longer be considered fashionable to invite me to parties. I’m ruined— ruined!”

  Hugh dutifully handed the money to his mother. “Perhaps we should instruct the servants to pack our belongings. I think Raile meant what he said.”

  Lavinia’s eyes gleamed with hatred. “He has won this skirmish, but I shall win the war.”

  Hugh glanced at his mother. “Did you do what Raile accused you of, Mother?”

  Lavinia gritted her teeth. “Absurd boy, it’s as you said. Raile hates me, and he would say anything to discredit me in your eyes.”

  16

  Kassidy awoke in a gathering darkness. Storm clouds had blocked out the sun, and the sound of lightning ripped across the heavens in jagged splinters while thunder struck with a force that shook the house. She stared for a moment at the open window where lace curtains twisted in the wind.

  She heard someone enter, and a middle-aged servant hurried to close the window.

  “Who are you?” Kassidy asked in bewilderment. “And where is this place?”

  “Well, bless you, miss,” the woman said, lighting a candle. “You must have been frightened waking up in a strange room. I’m Mrs. Fitzwilliams, housekeeper for the duke of Ravenworth. And this is his town house.”

  At the sound of the dreaded name, Kassidy turned her face to the pillow, fear causing her slender body to quake. “So I am still a prisoner.” Her eyes went to the door, as if she feared the duke would enter at any moment. “Why am I here?”

  Mrs. Fitzwilliams shook her head as she straightened the covers. “Now, miss, you are certainly not a prisoner.

  In fact, it was his grace who brought you here and engaged Doctor Worthington to attend you. You have been very ill. His grace had me come in from the country to look after you. He wants to do everything that will help you recover.”

  Kassidy moaned as weakness washed over her. “I don’t understand why he’s doing this.”

  “Now, now,” the housekeeper said soothingly. “You are not to worry about anything. The doctor is very encouraged by your recovery. He just wants you to rest, eat well, and grow stronger.”

  Kassidy stared at the woman suspiciously. She looked grandmotherly, with white hair, rosy cheeks, and soft brown eyes. But how could she trust anyone who worked for that dreadful man? She voiced her doubts to the housekeeper.

  “Why would the duke want to help me?”

  “I’m sure his grace will explain it all to you in time. You just rest now.”

  “Are you from Ravenworth Castle?”

  “Indeed I am. I have been in the DeWinters’ service for over forty years,” Mrs. Fitzwilliams said with pride.

  Kassidy’s eyes were so heavy she could hardly keep them open—the bed was soft, and snuggled beneath the downy coverlet, she was warm for the first time in weeks. She could hear the gentle rain pattering against the windowpane, and she yawned, giving the housekeeper an apologetic smile.

  “If you are from Ravenworth Castle, perhaps you can tell me about my sister’s baby.”

  “Indeed I can, miss. The child enjoys good health and is a darling little girl. We all love her, and I’m afraid we have spoiled her terribly. Sweetness is what she is, and it is what we call her.”

  Kassidy closed her eyes. Thank God, the child was well.

  “Sweetness,” she murmured sleepily. “If only I could see her.”

  “Soon, miss, soon. You must rest now.”

  Kassidy was asleep before Mrs. Fitzwilliams extinguished the candle. The housekeeper stood over her a long moment, thinking her color was better, but she still did not look well.

  “Poor little girl,” the housekeeper whispered compassionately. “Looks like life’s been hard on you.”

  Lady Mary was shown into the salon, where Raile was waiting for her. It had been only three days since she had received word that her niece had been located.

  Lady Mary looked anxiously at Raile. “Is my niece well? I want to see her at once.”

  “She has been very ill, but I am told she is recovering nicely.” He looked uncomfortable. “You will understand about her illness when I tell you where I found her.”

  “Where was she?” Lady Mary was alarmed.

  Raile had been dreading this moment. He drew in a deep breath as he prepared to recount what had befallen Miss Maragon. He did not spare Lavinia or Hugh, or for that matter, himself.

  He watched the horror on Lady Mary’s face turn to anger and indignation. When he finished, she rose to her feet, furiously pacing the floor.

  “I will hold that woman and your brother both accountable for this atrocity. They have not yet paid for their crime.”

  “You have my pledge that I will deal with them. I thought you might want me to handle this matter delicately so your niece would not have to suffer public knowledge of her humiliation.”

  “It was a great deal more than humiliation, your grace. I am not prepared to let that woman get away without punishment. What I don’t understand is why she would have done such a thing to Kassidy.”

  Raile lowered his head, feeling the dishonor of his family weighing heavily on his heart. “We all mistakenly thought Kas
sidy was her sister, and when I insisted Hugh marry the girl he had wronged, Lavinia concocted this plan to be rid of her.”

  Lady Mary’s eyes blazed with wrath. “But that’s ridiculous. Your brother was already married to Abigail. I want to see your stepmother suffer the same degradation she forced Kassidy to endure. And my husband can make certain it happens.”

  “If that’s what you want to do, then we shall. I am willing to help you in any way I can. Certainly Lavinia deserves to be punished for what she did. But that will not make up to Miss Maragon for what she has suffered. It might, in fact, make her suffer more.”

  Lady Mary dropped her head in her hands. “You are right. I must consider what this would do to Kassidy. I will not have her exposed to a public trial.” She looked at Raile, seeing the pain in his eyes. He had been deeply affected by what had happened to Kassidy. “How will we punish them if not through the law?”

  “I have already turned them both out of my home. And as for my stepmother, I am no longer answerable for her expenses. I have thought about sending Hugh out of the country to get him away from his mother’s influence.”

  Lady Mary shook her head. “It’s not enough.”

  “I agree. What would you have me do?”

  “For now, nothing. I want to hear my husband’s views on the matter.” She reached out and touched Raile’s hand. “I do not blame you in any of this, your grace. Without your help, we would never have found Kassidy.”

  “I don’t excuse myself, Lady Mary. A young girl has suffered a great deal because of my family.”

  “I want to move my niece to my house as soon as possible. I intend to see that nothing like this will ever happen to her again.”

  “Before you go up to her, I wonder if you would allow me to speak to you about another matter.” Raile watched the way the sunlight streaked across the oak floor. “I . . .” He paused as if trying to find the right words. “I would like to discuss Miss Maragon’s future with you.”

 

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