An unpleasant look crossed the reclining man’s already unpleasant face, but a swift glance up at Spencer’s granite countenance seemed to make him change his mind about whatever he had been about to say. Instead he shrugged and reached to yank the cork from his bottle with an audible pop.
‘As I said. If there’s anything you want me to arrange, just tell me. Good afternoon.’
Grace’s heart, already heavy with dread, had fairly fallen into her boots by the time she and Spencer reached the top of the gloomy stairs leading to the first floor of the Fleet. Each upward step took her nearer to a growing din of voices, footsteps, coughing and rough laughter that came from overhead, mingled with a horrible smell of tobacco and unwashed bodies that struck her with its acrid scent to make her unconsciously wrinkle her nose. It was like nothing she had experienced before and as she gingerly set foot on the first landing Grace became aware she was holding her breath.
She stood for a moment, still riveted to Spencer’s side as she gazed around her with eyes wide and staring. It took time for her to make any sense of what she saw and the hand that held Spencer’s arm tightened in instinctive horror.
Thank heavens he is here with me. I can see now why Mama was so insistent we didn’t come to visit.
How had her kind, generous, gentle papa ended up in a place like this? Hardly any light filtered through grimy windows to illuminate a narrow corridor with rooms set either side, throwing the clusters of people ranged about into shadow. Some of the doors to the rooms were closed, but others stood ajar to allow feeble candlelight to spill out and touch the thin faces that turned towards where Grace stood, some curious, but others blank with the indifference of suffering.
With a sharp pang of surprise Grace saw there were women there, not just the men she had expected, and with another jolt she recognised several of them clutched babies in their skinny arms or held little hands as toddlers tottered to and fro. Many of them were dressed in scarcely more than rags and the sounds of thin cries combined with the rest in a terrible symphony of wretchedness that wrung every ounce of compassion from Grace’s aching chest.
‘Do you need to sit down for a moment?’
She hardly heard Spencer’s murmur, so occupied was she with the squalor that surrounded them on every side. Even if she had wanted a seat there was nothing more than the floor to sink on to, so filthy it was impossible to tell what colour it might have originally been.
‘No. I am quite well.’
Grace took a deep breath to calm herself, immediately regretting it as she took in a great lungful of the awful mix of sweat and stale beer that permeated the air. Her head swam a little with shock and dismay, the truth of her father’s plight never more plain than at that moment.
Oh, Papa. Why didn’t you tell us?
‘Grace? Come with me. Let’s find your father.’
Somehow Spencer’s arm freed itself from her vice-like grip to be replaced by his palm, comfortingly warm against her thin glove. By another mystery their fingers unconsciously intertwined, so it was hand in hand Grace blindly followed Spencer as he carefully pushed through the sullen crowds. There were some whispers, a few vulgar words hissed at Grace’s back, but one ferocious look from Spencer was enough to silence them—as Grace would have seen, had she been able to raise her eyes fixed on the dirty floorboards in fright and a terrible dismay that tore at her leaping heart.
Hazily she heard Spencer speak to a man standing by one of the doors, just catching his word of thanks as the prisoner pointed silently towards the last room at the end of the passage. There were fewer people down there and Grace took a moment to steady herself in the relative quiet, still holding tightly to Spencer’s hand. Under other circumstances she might have pulled away, worried he would see how much she enjoyed his touch, but with only an ill-hung door standing between her and whatever sorry fate had befallen poor Papa she felt nothing but grateful relief for the comfort of Spencer’s firm grasp.
She sensed his gaze upon her and looked up to see a troubled shadow in his warm brown eyes.
‘Are you sure you’re ready? I confess I hadn’t expected this place to be quite so grim. Perhaps it would have been better if I hadn’t brought you—I see how distressed you are already and I fear seeing your father and the state he could be in might only add to it.’
Grace shook her head. ‘Don’t say that. Escorting me here is one of the kindest things anybody has ever done for me and besides...’ she attempted a small smile despite the rigidity of her jaw ‘...if you think for one moment I have got this close to seeing Papa only to turn and leave now, you’ve another think coming.’
The shadow segued into a glimmer of admiration that sent a faint thrill through Grace’s nerves and Spencer raised his free hand to rap smartly at the peeling door. ‘Very good, Mrs Dauntsey. I’d a suspicion that would be your response.’
At first there was no reply to their knock—only the muffled sound of coughing followed by silence in which Grace and Spencer exchanged swift looks of concern. The second tap, however, warranted an explosion of hacking and wheezing followed by a weak ‘yes?’ that sent Grace striding into the room as though propelled from a cannon, Spencer following close behind and scarcely less concerned than his wife at the feebleness of that wavering voice.
* * *
Grace lurched to a halt so abrupt Spencer almost careered into her, only just in time able to sidestep where she stood just inside the door and rooted to the spot with an expression of vivid, open-mouthed horror. He followed her appalled gaze to an untidy heap in one corner that might have once been a serviceable bed, but now sagged to the ground beneath a scattering of blankets Spencer could smell from across the room. Half submerged under the greying material was a thatch of thinning silver hair atop a face so white it could have been carved from the snow outside, if two feverish red spots hadn’t burned brightly on the sunken cheeks. At their sudden entrance to the room the figure in the bed rose up stiffly on one elbow to peer in their direction, his face anxious in the dim light fighting its way through one grubby window.
His eyes grew round behind his spectacles as they fixed on Grace’s stunned face, disbelieving as he sat up sharply.
‘Grace? It can’t be—I must be feverish again. My Gracie? Is it truly you, or am I dreaming?’
Mr Linwood pushed his blankets aside with hands that even at a distance Spencer saw trembled with either shock or illness. There wasn’t any time for him to wonder which it was, however, before Grace stumbled forward, reaching out for her father with equally faltering fingers.
‘You’re not dreaming, Papa. I’m here, truly!’
She was in his arms before he had managed to move a single pace from his bed, her face pressed into his chest with her bonnet askew and her shoulders moving beneath her gown in such a way Spencer knew at once she was crying.
Her father stroked her back in mute amazement, holding her close to him as though to convince himself she was real. Looking over the top of her head, he peered in Spencer’s direction, still seeming to doubt what was in front of his eyes and even teetering on the brink of fainting away in astonishment.
Spencer stepped forward and gently laid a hand on Grace’s shaking shoulder to feel delicate bone beneath black silk. ‘Let’s sit down. You and your father have both had a shock and need time to collect yourselves.’
Grace drew back a little, wiping her eyes with the back of her black-gloved hand. Her tears reflected the grey light from the window like tiny diamonds of emotion, the sight of them pricking Spencer in the vulnerable place inside him only his unhappy wife was able to invade.
‘You’re right. Come, Papa. Won’t you sit and tell me—oh, everything you thought you had to hide?’
She guided him back down on to the bed and perched beside him, making the rickety frame creak ominously. A broken-backed chair stood by the empty hearth and Spencer hooked it towards him with one foot to car
efully settle on to its worn seat, leaning forward to hear what Mr Linwood might croak through chapped lips.
Grace’s papa shook his head in quiet wonder as he took in his daughter’s face, drinking in the sight of her like a thirsting man given a glass of cool water. ‘I can’t believe you’re here. I hadn’t thought to see any of my beautiful girls for a long time. I thought I must be losing my mind when you burst through my door, yet here you are!’
A frown briefly creased Grace’s brow. ‘Did the warden not tell you we had sought permission to visit? I would have written to you directly, but I thought he would pass the message on.’
‘He did not. I’m afraid I rather think he would find it amusing for me to be surprised and dismayed by your coming.’
Grace blinked at her father, a flicker of pain slicing though her expression that made Spencer’s insides twist sharply. ‘Why would you be dismayed? Are you not happy to see me?’
Mr Linwood took up her hand and held it tightly, looking firmly into her eyes as though she should understand his next words very clearly. ‘There is nothing in the world that could ever make me happier than seeing your face and I’m moved beyond words that you came to find me—but I would not have chosen for you to come here. Upon my word, I never wanted you to see me in this state or have your innocence tainted by such an evil place.’ He lifted his spectacles to rub at his tired, bloodshot eyes. ‘Your mother and I vowed we would protect you and your sisters from the reality, although I must confess even your mama wasn’t aware of the full truth of my life here. I’ll have to beg forgiveness for the deception...my only excuse is a misguided desire to save you from worries you should never have had to bear.’
‘Oh.’ Fresh tears sparkled in Grace’s eyes to once again claw at Spencer’s insides, but she forced them back with the determination he had long since admired. ‘You should have told us your living conditions were so bad and that your health had so clearly not recovered. There must have been something we could do!’
‘No, Gracie. To make his time in the Fleet tolerable a man needs a deal of money to pay for luxuries, money that you would not have been able to spare. I feared you would go without yourselves to make me more comfortable, when I am the cause of our troubles and deserve no such kindness. If I’d only seen those villains Fisher and Armand for what they were, none of this would have happened.’
With a sigh he turned to look across at Spencer properly for the first time, eyes behind his round glasses the same colour as Grace’s own and a shadow of his daughter’s tentative smile visible beneath a greying beard. ‘But enough talk of my folly. Please forgive my lapse of manners. I should have greeted you when you first arrived, but I was hardly able to think straight.’
Spencer gave the best bow he could manage while sitting down and extended his hand. ‘Mr Linwood. It’s a pleasure to meet you again after all these years.’
The older man took the proffered hand with real enthusiasm, tempered slightly by the weakness of his cold fingers. ‘I would have known you at once, sir. I am vastly pleased to see you and overjoyed to shake your hand. I don’t mind admitting I was grieved when I was told Grace was no longer engaged to Mr Earls, but on balance I feel she has ended up with a far superior husband given the glowing reports I hear from my wife and daughters—and, of course, from Grace herself.’
‘Papa...’
Grace flashed her father a look that made Spencer’s lips twitch with surprised amusement. Glowing reports from Grace, indeed? The idea was so absurdly pleasing he felt the urge to preen, only increased by the hint of colour that bloomed in his wife’s cheek. He would have to investigate what exactly this praise involved if he ever had a moment alone with his father-in-law, the temptation to find out what Grace said about him in private too intriguing to ignore.
Far superior to Henry Earls, am I?
He could only hope Grace herself thought something similar, confirming the triumph over his rival that crowed inside him at her father’s honesty.
I like the sound of that. Perhaps I ought to ask Mr Linwood to put in a few good words on my behalf.
Before he had a chance to continue along what she evidently deemed a dangerous path, however, Grace shook Mr Linwood’s arm. ‘You were saying there was nothing we could have done and that you didn’t deserve our help. Do you not think it was our right to decide whether that was true? We would never have allowed you to be living like...this.’ She gestured around the dingy room in obvious distress. ‘And your health is so much poorer than you let us believe!’
‘Ach, it’s not so bad. Most of the time I barely—’ An untimely bout of coughing seized her papa in its unforgiving grip, squeezing until his face flared red and tears ran from his eyes. It was so reminiscent of the way Dorothea had gasped for breath Spencer felt himself tense in instinctive concern, new worry rising inside him as Mr Linwood wheezed into silence.
One look at Grace’s white face was enough to confirm her mind ran with the same deadly comparison, sharp fear tightening the set of her jaw. She rubbed her father’s back consolingly, but nothing could wipe away the alarm Spencer saw flit across her features and bring tension to the slight frame he longed to draw into a comforting embrace.
He watched for a moment, taking in the unhappy scene unfolding in the cold, bleak room with the stirrings of a plan flickering at the back of his mind. Quite possibly it would meet with opposition from his kindly father-in-law, but that was nothing when measured against the terrible prospect of Grace having another reason to wear black—which she most certainly would, unless something was done and fast.
‘Mr Linwood. Please allow me to insist upon paying for you to be moved to better quarters and be seen by a physician. This room isn’t fit to be borne a single day longer and certainly was never meant for a gentleman such as yourself.’
With his attention turned to her father Spencer only saw the snap of Grace’s head in his direction out of the corner of his eye, but even that glimpse showed how her lips parted and eyes widened in sudden hope so vivid it knocked some of the breath from his lungs. A flick of his eyes towards her was met with the most precious reward he ever could have wished for: a beam of wondering gratitude that spread across her face to light what had previously been shrouded in terror, almost identical to the secret smile of months before that had captured his heart without him even knowing it.
But Mr Linwood was shaking his head and some of the buoyancy left Grace’s expression.
‘I couldn’t agree to that, Captain Dauntsey. It’s a very kind offer, but the price for my mistakes must be paid by myself and myself alone. As I said, my family’s suffering is a direct result of my stupidity and I hold myself accountable.’
Spencer inclined his head, but the firm set of his chin should have told Grace’s papa his objections were futile. ‘With the greatest respect, sir, I am resolute. I have already had to endure the loss of my parents and would keep Grace from such an event for as long as possible. Even if you wouldn’t accept for yourself, please think again for the sake of your wife and daughters.’
‘Do listen.’ Grace leapt in immediately. ‘We all admire your principles, but they are like to do more harm than good. Surely you can see that? In any case—’ she broke off for a second to give a wry half-smile ‘—there’s precious little point in arguing with Spencer. If he’s made up his mind to help you, you may as well reconcile yourself to being helped whether you like it or not.’
Mr Linwood opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated before any words could come. ‘Are you—are you quite sure, sir? I confess it would be a blessing to be moved from this room, but—’ The same look of regret that sometimes crossed Grace’s features showed in those of her father and he stared down at his hands in something like shame. ‘I don’t know that I could repay you. I’m not sure how much Grace has told you of the circumstances surrounding my being here, but thanks to my business partners I am officially bankrupt and a debtor. Th
ere isn’t likely to be any way of returning your money.’
‘I don’t expect to be repaid. It would be a gift and one I give gladly.’
There was a tiny intake of breath from Grace’s direction, but Spencer kept his eyes firmly on his father-in-law, who rubbed his forehead in a combination of amazement and dawning wonder.
‘Your generosity is astounding. If you truly mean it, I’d be so grateful to accept your offer with the sincerest of thanks.’
Spencer gave a brisk nod, allowing a small smile to lift the corners of his usually straight-set lips as he rose to his feet and turned for the door. ‘For my part I’m happy you accepted. I’ll go and speak to the warden without delay.’
There was just enough time to register the vivid relief in Grace’s sigh before he stepped out into the corridor to be enveloped once again by the noise and smell of the wider prison. Angry shouts echoed from the floor above and Spencer shook his head in disgust as he pulled the door closed behind him.
To think they keep a decent man in conditions like these.
The thoroughly honest and civil Mr Linwood he had once known would never have committed any offence, he was certain—the honesty and lack of artifice in Grace had evidently been inherited from her papa and the seed of another idea began to slowly take root in the back of Spencer’s mind.
What was it he said his partners’ names were? Fisher and Armand? I wonder...perhaps there might be some way...
He’d barely managed ten steps when he heard the door creak behind him again, followed by rapid footsteps at his back. Turning showed Grace standing behind him, cheeks flushed and a look on her face that would have melted Spencer’s heart all over again had it not already thawed to be given into her unwitting keeping.
Spencer frowned, her sudden reappearance momentarily distracting him from the plan unfurling itself in his thoughts. ‘Grace? Is something amiss?’
She shook her head, fingers working together in a movement of uncontrollable emotion. ‘No. Quite the opposite. I just had to tell you...you don’t know what this means to me. This kindness to my poor papa is the most wonderful thing. Thank you, thank you—a hundred times, thank you!’
Scandalously Wed to the Captain Page 18