by Brown, T. J.
“So why were you?” Victoria asked with her mouth full.
Eleanor shrugged. “I don’t know, if the truth be told. Perhaps because I heard you reciting such lovely verses to yourself to chase the bogeyman away. Stuck with me, I guess. At any rate you’ve been found. Now I’m going to take you to the wardress. You haven’t even been properly processed yet. Have you seen the judge or the magistrate yet?”
Victoria shook her head.
“What is your name, anyway?” Eleanor asked.
“Victoria Buxton.”
Eleanor led Victoria down a long hallway. She felt her body warming with each step she took away from her cell. Then they entered what looked to be the administration part of the prison, as it had offices on either side of the hall. Eleanor had an officer watch Victoria while she slipped into one of the offices to speak with the wardress.
Unlike in the actual prison or the clinics, the doors were not soundproof and Victoria heard Eleanor’s raised voice: “I can tell she’s posh just by the sound of her! Someone is going to be very angry when they find out how she’s been treated. She hadn’t even seen the judge yet!”
A few moments later, after a small, mousy woman came rushing out on an errand of great import, Victoria was escorted into a rather worn office consisting of two desks and rows of filing cabinets. The woman behind the desk intimidated by sheer size, not to mention the steel-framed spectacles she wore over a disdainful nose and stern mouth.
She stood when Victoria came in. Eleanor shook Victoria’s hand. “I may not see you again, Victoria, if you don’t have another breathing episode. It was nice to meet you.”
Victoria resisted the urge to beg her to stay. As soon as Eleanor left, the wardress bade her to sit. “My name is Mrs. Liddell and I am the wardress of Holloway Prison. It is my understanding that a mistake was made and you spent a number of hours alone with no food or basic care. But while I feel badly for that, as we do not make it a habit to lose prisoners, I do not apologize. I did not make the choices that led you to this situation.”
The mousy woman who had rushed out earlier returned and handed Mrs. Liddell a sheaf of papers. She then took a seat at the other desk and began typing. Mrs. Liddell leaned back in her chair and began reading the papers. Ignored, Victoria watched the small woman typing with a speed that made her ache with jealousy. She would never be able to type that fast.
Mrs. Liddell cleared her throat and Victoria jumped to attention.
“Your accomplice, Mary Richardson, received six months for her crime against property owned by the Commonwealth.”
Victoria whimpered, and the wardress shook her head. “No. As you did not directly destroy property or wield a weapon, I doubt your sentence will be as harsh. And this wasn’t Mary’s first dance with us. It doesn’t look as if you have been in trouble before. Is that so, Miss Buxton?”
Victoria shook her head. “No. Never.”
“You will be seen by the magistrate first thing in the morning. Now, do you want to send word to your family?”
Victoria thought briefly of Uncle Conrad, then shook her head. “No. But I would like to send word to my supervisor.”
Mrs. Liddell pursed her lips. “Your family would be in a better position to help you, but if you insist. Give Miss Lark her information. She will finish processing you and send your note. Good day, Miss Buxton.”
Victoria knew she was dismissed and went to the mousy woman’s desk. After answering countless questions, she sent a note off addressed to Martha.
The guard took Victoria back to her cell. Even though fear practically paralyzed her, she felt a bit of hope. Only one more night. She could do that. She was sure Martha would meet her in the morning and let the judge know that Victoria couldn’t possibly have been involved. She wouldn’t have to stay here much longer.
But Martha never showed up.
In a daze, Victoria went through the process of her hearing alone. She tried to tell the judge and the officials that she didn’t have anything to do with the Venus, but after admitting to knowing Mary and being asked to create a diversion, the judge seemed disinclined to believe that her scream had been out of true shock and not a ruse to distract.
“Three months at Holloway.”
Three months.
The words echoed through Victoria’s mind and her knees buckled. On the way back to the prison she had another breathing attack and ended up in the clinic. Eleanor wasn’t there but they had a nebulizer for her and, after her breathing had returned to normal, they took her back to her cell.
And so her bleak, monotonous days in prison began in earnest.
The nights were the worst for Victoria. The lights went out at eight o’clock each evening and ten excruciating hours would pass before they came back on. Victoria spent the time staring blindly in the dark, reciting every poem she knew until sleep finally came in the wee hours of the morning.
At seven in the morning, the dirty water was emptied and a light breakfast of brown bread and a pint of tea were delivered, along with a large pitcher of water that was meant to last the day. At eight, the doors were opened and the women were taken in long lines to chapel. They weren’t supposed to talk and Victoria was amazed at how much communication the women managed without the guards’ knowledge.
Victoria had a hard time believing that each of these women had done something that warranted imprisonment. So many of them looked like doting mothers.
They probably were.
She saw Mary only once during chapel, and Victoria felt sick to her stomach. She was thankful that Mary passed without noticing her in return. Victoria never wanted to see her again.
After chapel, they were taken back to their cells, where they were visited by a doctor, if needed, or the governor of the prison if they had any urgent needs. Eleanor had come once with the doctor to check on Victoria, and her relief at seeing a familiar face, no matter how stern, was overwhelming.
At ten the women were taken outside, regardless of the weather, to exercise. This was optional for Victoria because of her condition, though she went every day, grateful for the brief reprieve from her cell.
After exercise they were led back to their cells, where they could read or sew. Victoria discovered she was allowed to borrow two books a week from the rolling cart a volunteer manned each Thursday. The first week, Victoria chose Jane Eyre and Robinson Crusoe. She’d read both books before, of course, but felt that now she could properly sympathize with the isolation of the stories’ narrators. One day a week, she was given a newspaper. She’d never paid much attention to the news before, but she did now, aching for word of the outside world.
The food was abominable, though Victoria realized that women who were not accustomed to three good meals every day would likely be satisfied with what little they were given. The small loaf of brown bread they received for breakfast was also present for dinner and Victoria wondered how many thousands of loaves were baked each week. Dinner was their largest meal and eaten in a communal dining room. On one day, she ate beans and potatoes, on another, suet pudding and potatoes, and on another pressed meat and potatoes. Like the brown bread, potatoes were ever present.
By the end of that first week, Victoria was surprised by another visit from Eleanor and the doctor. After the doctor pronounced her sound, he left the room, giving Victoria a few moments alone with Eleanor.
“I sent word to my employers about my whereabouts and asked them to send word to my family, but I’ve heard nothing. Is that . . . normal?”
Eleanor tilted her head to one side. “For a prisoner in the regular population I would say yes. But you first-class suffragettes get better treatment than most. Have you heard anything from your family? They can’t visit, but you can get letters. Why didn’t you send word straight to them instead of to your employers?”
Victoria shrugged. “I worked for the Suffragettes for Female Equality. I suppose I thought they would know best how to go about this.” It slowly dawned on Victoria that maybe her loyalty to t
he society didn’t necessarily guarantee their loyalty to her. She felt her lungs begin to constrict once again. “Could you get word to my family?” she managed.
Eleanor looked at the door and nodded. “Hurry, though. I have to catch up with the doctor.”
She gave Eleanor Prudence’s address. Victoria knew that Prudence would go directly to Rowena. She could only hope that they would be able to look beyond their differences and come together to help her. Victoria wanted nothing more than to get word from her family right now . . . and that included Prudence.
Prudence blinked at the plainly dressed woman at the door. “Excuse me?” Prudence’s sleep had been haunted by nightmares since Rowena had sent word about Victoria’s imprisonment, and she found it difficult to function. Apparently, the family was trying to help her but as of yet had been having a difficult time even getting a confirmation of her presence in Holloway.
“Are you Prudence Wilkes?” the woman asked.
Prudence nodded.
“My name is Eleanor James. I work at Holloway Prison?” The woman seemed to want confirmation that Prudence knew what she was about.
Prudence’s heart skipped a beat and she nodded. “Come in.”
Susie was out marketing and Andrew had already left for his tutoring session, so Prudence gave Eleanor the best chair and nervously asked whether she would like a cup of tea.
“That would be wonderful,” Eleanor said. “I came here straight after work.”
Prudence put the water on for tea and then turned to her guest, unable to wait any longer. “How is Victoria?”
The woman smiled. “She’s an intrepid young woman, isn’t she? She is fine now.”
“Now?” Prudence asked.
“When they brought her in, she was completely blue and scarcely breathing.”
Prudence put a hand over her mouth. One of her nightmares was Victoria having a breathing attack without her nebulizer.
“She’s fine now,” Eleanor reminded her quickly.
“Thank you.” Prudence finished making the tea and sat at the table across from her guest.
Eleanor frowned and looked at Prudence. “When Victoria asked me to notify her family of her whereabouts, I have to admit, I didn’t think I would be sitting in a flat in Camden Town.”
“She and I were brought up as sisters. I expect she was concerned that if her family was notified, they wouldn’t fill me in, whereas she knows I will run the news over to them immediately after you leave.”
Eleanor nodded. “Fair enough. Victoria’s situation is a bit odd. She wasn’t properly processed and the warden is loath to reveal that a mistake has been made. I feel that’s one of the reasons any inquiries about her may not have been immediately addressed.”
She took a sip of her tea while Prudence leaned forward, tense and waiting.
“This is good, thank you.”
Prudence nodded and refrained from telling her to just get on with it.
“Victoria has been sentenced for three months, half of what her compatriot must serve, because Victoria wasn’t actually holding the chopper. But Victoria ran, which angered the judge. The other woman, Mary, did not.”
Prudence snorted. “Maybe that’s because Victoria didn’t know what this Mary was going to do?”
Eleanor gave her a sharp look. “That’s what I thought. Victoria sent word when she was finally processed, but apparently she sent it to her employers and not her family. The prison authorities have heard nothing from them.”
“Can I go visit her?” Prudence asked.
Eleanor shook her head. “No, I’m afraid you can’t. She can receive visits from the volunteer visiting committee and her solicitor, but no friends or family.”
Eleanor rose to leave. “Thank you so much for the tea, miss. It right hit the spot.”
Prudence placed an arm on Eleanor’s elbow. “Why are you doing this? You must treat hundreds of prisoners. Why are you going out of your way for Victoria?”
“Just because I don’t believe in the methods used by the militant suffragettes doesn’t mean I’m not a sympathizer, miss. I want the vote and a say in how my country is run as much as the next woman. So I do what I can and consider it my contribution to the cause. And Victoria is little more than a girl. I had a hard time believing that anyone who could recite the best of Rudyard Kipling could possibly be in cahoots to ruin a fine piece of art.”
Prudence thanked her and pondered Eleanor’s words after she’d left. No, she didn’t think Victoria was capable of conspiring to ruin art of any kind, no matter what the cause. She’d been following Mary Richardson’s story in the newspapers. There were sensationalized pictures and stories of Mary’s former exploits, such as the time she rushed the King’s carriage to hand him a petition. How on earth did Victoria get tangled up with someone like that? she wondered as she put on her coat.
She took the Tube to Belgravia to save time, her stomach in knots. She hadn’t seen anyone from the Buxton family aside from Rowena and Vic since she had left on that horrible night when she learned the truth about her father. Perhaps all of these drastic upheavals were inevitable the moment that Sir Philip—her protector—passed away.
Prudence stood irresolutely before the front steps of the stately London manor and tilted her chin. No, she was not going to go through the servants’ entrance. She was no longer a servant and she now knew that she was as much of a Buxton as the rest of them were, regardless of the scandal surrounding her link to that lineage.
She rang the bell and waited, her heart in her throat, for Cairns to open the door. When he did, he frowned at her, disapproval emanating from him in waves. “I’m here to see Rowena and Lord Summerset,” she told him clearly. “It concerns Victoria.”
Cairns’s mouth tightened. He had no choice but to let her in, show her into the drawing room, and announce her presence. She faltered when she realized that the room full of people included Sebastian. Of course Sebastian would be here. He and Rowena were to be married. Pain rippled throughout her chest.
Rowena stood and greeted her with her hands outstretched and Prudence felt she had no other choice but to greet her in kind, though her resentment and anger at Rowena still simmered. She kept her gaze resolutely away from Sebastian.
“What is it?” Rowena asked after kissing her on the cheek.
Prudence turned to Lord Summerset, also avoiding eye contact with her former tormentor, Lady Charlotte. “I had a visit from a nurse from Holloway this afternoon. She brought me word from Victoria.”
The party erupted and Lord Summerset closed his eyes briefly. It was the first flicker of emotion besides annoyance that Prudence had ever seen cross his face.
Kit leapt to his feet and grabbed her hand. “How is she? Is she all right?”
Prudence stared up at him, taken aback by his outburst. “She is as well as can be expected. When they took her to Holloway, she went directly to the prison clinic because she was having an attack. Apparently, they didn’t process her correctly and weren’t even sure of her whereabouts for almost a day. The prison officials are reluctant to admit this, which the nurse thinks might be one of the reasons that you’re having trouble tracking her down.”
Lord Summerset nodded. “Has she seen the magistrate? Has she been sentenced?”
Prudence took a deep breath. “Three months.”
Rowena swayed on her feet and Sebastian caught her elbow to steady her. Then he encircled her with his arm, lending her his support. Prudence stared, unable to look away. She hugged her own arms to her chest, protecting herself from the onslaught of anger and loss reverberating through her body.
Lord Summerset shook his head. “This is not right. Why didn’t she contact us? She needs a solicitor.”
She tore her eyes away from Sebastian’s arm and faced Lord Summerset. “She thought her former employers would have more experience dealing with her legal issues, but of course, she hasn’t heard from them.”
“They’ve dissolved, haven’t they? That suffrage
tte group?” Kit asked.
Prudence nodded. “How did you know?”
He shrugged. “I did a little checking. Asked one of the workers. No one has seen either Martha or Lottie for several days. Lottie has moved out of Katie’s lock, stock, and barrel. The place is abandoned now.”
“So she was packing,” Rowena exclaimed.
Kit nodded. “Looks like it.”
Lady Summerset stood. “Perhaps Victoria’s fund-raising had something to do with their sudden departure. Or perhaps they simply wanted to distance themselves from Mary Richardson’s heinous act. There has been such backlash against the suffragettes because of what she did.”
Prudence pressed her hands together and took a deep breath. Oh, Vic. What have you done?
“That’s probably why they hired Victoria,” Sebastian said. “For her connections.”
The sound of his voice sent another wave of hurt through her and she stole a look at him from under her lashes. His face was tight and his mouth drawn, but he kept his arm around Rowena, more as if she was holding him up than the other way around.
Prudence swallowed. She had to get out of here. “I should be going. That was really all the nurse told me.”
Lady Summerset inclined her head. “Thank you so much for coming over straightaway.”
“Of course. I want Victoria out of there as soon as possible. The best chance of that is through her family.”
“Yes, thank you,” Lord Summerset added, standing. “Please allow us to send you home in the car.”
“Oh, no. Don’t trouble yourself.”
“It’s no trouble,” Lady Summerset said. “It’s the least we can do.”
Prudence stiffened her back. She didn’t need this family’s charity.
Kit must have sensed something in her face because he jumped in smoothly. “I have my car. I will take her home.”
Rowena clutched Prudence’s hand. “Thank you so much for telling us.” Her green eyes searched Prudence’s and Prudence felt a pang of loss. But Sebastian’s hand still affectionately held on to Rowena’s elbow and with the memory of his kiss still tingling Prudence’s lips, the gesture was agonizing. She managed a nod and turned away.