“How?” Clarissa asked, looking mildly alarmed.
“Well, for example, for the past three weeks, he’s never recited the same poem twice in all the time that I’ve been in Lucinda’s cell, and yet he doesn’t have a single book in his chamber. He’s reciting them all from memory.”
“Sounds a strange ‘un all right, but not dangerous. Only thing is, how are you going to get away from Dr. Herriot to help him?”
Gabrielle had worked that out as well. “I’ll say I’m going to Somerset to stay with my cousins, and will give you letters to deliver to him once each week which appear to support that story.”
“And you want me to tend to Lucinda twice a day and bring you hot water and food every day and night?”
“Yes.”
“But what if they start to wonder why you never leave the asylum?”
Gabrielle shrugged one shoulder. “Bribes of one sort or another will usually work well enough. We just need to keep Spence and his colleague busy enough for them to not care. And besides, I don't think there's a rule about visitors going in and out except at certain times. Do you have anyone you know willing to, well—”
Clarissa nodded. “Sure, for that kind of money.”
She thought for a moment, then nodded to her colleague. “Very well, we'll go through with it Friday evening, at six. Please make sure everyone is ready by then.”
“Aye, I will. So long as you are, Miss Howell.”
Gabrielle chewed her lower lip. “I shall have to be. And please, Clarissa, call me Gabrielle.”
She gave her one more long, assessing look, and nodded. Then she resumed her duties with a pensive air.
Gabrielle watched her work for a time, and then pushed her heavy fall of auburn hair out of her eyes with a sigh. She prayed she would prove to be as sincere an ally as she appeared to be, and never tell Antony about her audacious plan. For if Clarissa did, there would be no telling how she would ever be able to help Simon and free him from his living hell.
Chapter Eleven
At six on Friday evening, a gaggle of harlots arrived at the front gate to Bedlam as usual. Normally the gate keeper didn’t pay much mind to any of them, but there was one girl with the most remarkable red hair...
She gave a winning smile and stepped straight passed him, intent upon her night’s work, no doubt.
One of her companions, a raven-haired harlot names Angela, had the stickiest fingers in London in more ways than one. As soon as they got to the third floor corridor and the girls began to distract the guard positioned outside Simon’s door, she went to work, lifting his keys and palming them to Gabrielle, who was standing back a bit from the others, lurking in the shadows just in case he recognised her.
Spence's jaw dropped. “Well, girls, to what do I owe—”
“Bloke here’s come into some money from a relative. He gets treated, you get treated. Come here, handsome,” Angela rasped, pulling her to him. “Let’s find a quiet corner somewhere, eh?”
One of the other women took his left arm and led him down the corridor to a shadowy alcove they often used for their assignations.
As soon as he was gone, Clarissa dropped all the supplies she had concealed in her voluminous skirts and the small valise she was carrying with her, and helped Gabrielle get the door open and the things inside.
“The others will be along in a minute,” she reassured Gabrielle.
Simon, lying on his bed in his usual state of torpor, leapt up at the intrusion of the floozies. He didn’t recognise Gabrielle at first, but merely gaped at the most magnificent pair of breasts he had ever seen swell a bodice.
“Excuse me, ladies, but can I help you?” he said at last, causing her to smile. He might as well have been in a Ton drawing room.
“We’re here to help you, mon ami.”
Gabrielle smiled at him, and he sat back down on the bed with a gasp.
The other two helpers whom Clarissa had let in on the plan had dropped the rest of the supplies in the corridor before accosting Spence, so they hurried down the hall and dragged them in as well.
Clarissa paused in her work long enough to stare at Simon for a moment, then nodded to Gabrielle. “Tomorrow morning at six.”
She knew her friend was giving her her blessing and approval of the perilous course she was about to undertake. “Thank you,” she said earnestly.
“Good luck. You're going to need it.”
Gabrielle pressed the keys into her hands, and with a final affectionate pat, Clarissa shut the door behind her and locked her friend in.
Simon, still dazed at the intrusion of the women, finally found his tongue.
“I don’t understand, cherie. What are you doing here? What are all these things?” he asked, staring at the linens, simple homespun clothes from the clinic, and the bounty of fresh fruit and cooked food she had brought, which smelled good enough to make his mouth water even more than it was already just looking at her loveliness.
“I’m going to help you with your addiction.”
“But if they find these things in here and you with me—”
“We lied and said you had come into some money. They think I’m a trollop and your guard is even now benefitting from your good fortune.”
His eyes rounded. “You mean—”
She nodded. “It’s the only way to keep the guards busy while we get you well. Apparently Angela can keep a bloke going for hours. I must just ask—”
“No you won’t!” Simon said primly, his lush lips thinning to a line. “The very idea of you asking a—”
She giggled. “You look like a maiden aunt of mine with that expression. And you lived in a brothel, remember. Don’t be such a hypocrite.”
“I simply meant I don’t want you to prostitute yourself for my sake.”
“I didn’t mean I would do it to the guard, I meant you, silly.” She blushed.
"Me?” he squeaked.
“Well, I don’t know about you, my dear Simon, but I’ve had a difficult time thinking of anything other than our interesting night in the bathroom," she admitted boldly. "I mean, I’m curious, naturally. I have a lot of gaps in my education. I might as well try to fill them in. You were indeed most instructive on a number of points—”
“I’m sure,” he said huskily, his golden eyes glowing like a living flame. He pressed his hands together to stop himself from diving into the top of her gown. “But this is lunacy. Why are you here like this?”
“I’ve told you, I have every intention of helping you, Simon. I’m sorry about my doubts in the past weeks, and how much they've hur you. Hurt us both," she added with a wan smile. "But you can look in my eyes now, and see that I’m serious, and not mistrustful or repelled by you.” She gripped his hand briefly, then drew away shyly.
And in truth, there would be plenty of time for more intimate things anon. For the moment, she had work to do.
She reached into the valise now and found a ribbon to tie back her unruly mane of red hair. Then she put on an apron over her bare bosom, and started to lay out some food for him. “I can see from the tray they’ve already brought supper. I suppose you ate some of it.”
He shook his head. “No, you said you were going to put your plan into action today. I just had no idea you were going to trick your way into the cell itself. Have you any idea how dangerous this could be? If the guard catches you—”
Yet even as Simon was trying to convince her to leave quickly, his rare golden eyes were feasting on the sight of her.
“He’s only human, and Angela and the others are going to keep him too busy to worry about you. As for my friend Clarissa, whom you just met, she is going to look after my sister and bring fresh supplies every day.”
“I don’t follow. Fresh supplies? Why won’t you be bringing them yourself?”
She unfurled a clean fresh sheet with a smile. “Because I’m going to be staying here in Bedlam with you, of course. Here in this cell.”
Chapter Twelve
In the silen
ce that followed Gabrielle's statement, one could have heard a pin drop.
“What did you say?” he wheezed.
“I said, dear, I’m locked in here with you until I say you’re cured," she replied in a brisk tone which belied her nervousness over being alone with someone so overwhelming male. "I’m guessing we’ll need at least a fortnight to wean you off the opium, and another fortnight to build up your strength with a view to getting you out of here. So I shall be staying with you, and together we shall make the best of things.”
“Have you gone mad?” he almost bellowed.
She smiled at his poor choice of words. “Apparently. This is Bedlam, after all.”
“You can’t possibly stay here with me. It’s unthinkable!” he rasped, running his fingers through his lush dark hair as he paced up and down in front of her in the narrow confines of the cell.
“Apparently not. I did think about it, and here I am.”
He shook his head. “Have you got any idea what conditions are like in here?”
She quirked one brow at him. “I have a pretty good idea. Very unpleasant, dank, cold, vermin-infested. Which is why I brought all sorts of things to improve our circumstances—”
“Gabrielle, this is a madhouse! How much do you think it’s going to improve?” he argued, overwhelmed by her offer, and feeling so jittery he could barely sit or stand.
“But we’re here together, and that’s all that—”
“No, it’s not. Where are you going to sleep?”
She lifted her chin. “With you, of course.”
He backed away from her in the confined space. “Oh no, it’s out of the—”
“We’ve done it before,” she said calmly.
“Aye, and I nearly rutted with you on the floor like a beast!” he rasped, shaking his head at the recollection of how close he had come to robbing her of her virginity that fateful first night together.
“We would have become lovers if you hadn’t been so damned noble," she said with a rueful smile as she began unpacking more of her supplies. "I wanted you so much. I've barely been able to think about anything else ever since. You were right, that one night changed everything for—”
He thumped his head with the heel of his hand in despair. “It never should have tiddled you that night. You were supposed to forget all about me and get on with your life—”
“I want you more than anything I’ve ever—” She caught his despairing look and clamped her mouth shut.
This was clearly too much for him to take in at once. She needed to calm him down, and discussing their mutual feelings was clearly not the best way of accomplishing that.
So she busied herself around the cell unpacking the food, which she set on the bed, and then her cleaning items. While he ate, she set to work making the place more habitable.
When she could trust herself to speak again she said, “I want you to get better, Simon. I want to give you hope. And I’m not afraid of, well, this strange connection between us. You said to me once that I would hate you, look at you with mistrust and fear. Tell me if you see that in my face now. If you do, then I’ll leave, just as you’ve asked.
“If you don’t see it, then you’ll let me stay here just as I’ve planned. You’ll let me nurse you back to health and well, we’ll become lovers simply because we can’t help ourselves. Because we don’t even want to stop the fire inside. So look into my eyes, Simon, and tell me what you see. Am I staying or going? Look hard.”
Gabrielle let her unusual blue-green eyes reflect all her true longings. She recalled the urgent moment when he had almost possessed her, and it was enough to make her breath tremble in her lungs and her eyes go lambently moist.
She gazed up at him, longing to caress his lean hard cheekbone, to soften his frown. Meet his lush, sensual lips with her own. Feel the light scrape of his beard as he ran it all along her—
He pulled her into his arms with a groan of pure raw passion. “God, I ought to send you away,” he said in an agonised whisper, “but I just can’t. Oh Gabrielle...”
He kissed her throat and shoulders heatedly for a moment, then pulled back, trembling almost feverishly. “This truly is madness. I’ve been as libinous as the next chap, but this is beyond anything... All I have to do I touch your hand and I nearly lose control of my entire body.” He shook his head. “I can’t let you do this.”
“You can’t break your addiction on your own.”
“Please, you must leave. Guard! Guard--”
She clamped her hand over his mouth quickly. “Simon, this is your only chance. Please, just let me do things my way until I can get someone to help me get you out of here.”
“Have you any idea what I’m going to be like in a few more hours without the drug?” he rasped.
She nodded bravely, and stepped away to resume organizing her supplies. “My cousin the doctor told me everything I need to know. I've brought everything I can to help. Please, you need to trust me. This might be your last chance, your only chance, to ever break free of the addiction. Now come on, get yourself settled. The girls won’t be able to keep Spence busy forever, and someone else might arrive. What time is the food served?”
“Eight and six.”
“Fine. We ought not to be disturbed until tomorrow morning. Let’s get you and this cell cleaned up first, and see if we can’t make the best of this.”
“There is no best of this!” he insisted, feeling at his wit's end. “It’s just going to get worse and worse. Until someone comes to help you tomorrow morning, there’s just going to be you, me, the cot and these four walls. And I’ve, well, I’ve never lived with a woman before. Never been married or anything even remotely domestic," he admitted with a sigh.
She stared at him, please at the admission, but wondering why he looked so worried.
"This is far too intimate, do you understand? You’re going to hate me by the time this is over. I mean, the chamberpot, and anything else despicable I might end up doing, let alone grope you. I'm talking about nausea, stomach cramps, the illness, the ravings due to my addiction. I’m mad, insane, remember?”
She stiffened slightly, but continued to lay out her supplies in preparation what was to come, ignoring all of his protests. “I work in a clinic, Simon. I've seen all manner of bodily functions. I’m a virgin, but no fool. I’m prepared for anything that might happen. I’ve brought plenty of tooth power. We have food and water, clean sheets and blankets, clothes. I have the laudanum on the other side of the wall with Clarissa just in case you really can’t bear this.
“And you’re not mad. Or no more so than any of the rest of us would be after being locked up here for so long and left to rot. I know we can do it. I believe in you, Simon. I know you want to get well. If we can get through the next month, there’s a good-”
His jaw dropped. “A month! It’s bad enough thinking of you here overnight!”
“A month," she repeated firmly. "You’ve been an addict for so long, I would have to guess it will take at least that long. I have books, some candles and a tinder box. We can make our own little heaven right here.”
He snorted in derision. “And folks say I’m mad! Have you got any idea what will happen to you when they find out— And your cousin will go wild and cut off my cullions for sure!”
She shook her head. “It has nothing to do with any of my famiy. This is my choice. Mine, Simon.”
“Well it’s not bloody mine, Gabrielle!” he hissed, pacing up and down in front his cot and running his fingers through his hair.
“I'm sorry you don't agree with my methods, but the fact is that I got in here, didn't I? So now that I have, we need to make the most of this chance. If we have any hope of trying to get our friend Alistair Grant to look into what happened to you, why you’re here, we need to have you temperate and coherent. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I speak English, and even know what day of the week it is,” he snapped.
She tossed her head. “You see, you’ve improved already
since I met you.”
He rubbed the back of his neck as though it ached. “God, woman, you have easily got to be the most exasperating female…”
She gave him a bold smile. “Fine, you can mutter at me all you like. Or is that futter. So long as you let me stay.”
His golden eyes flashed fire. “Mon Dieu! You are a most bold wench. If I didn’t know better I’d say you really were a piece of Haymarket ware.”
She flipped her long fall of auburn hair back over one shoulder, thrust her breasts at him and said with a cheeky grin, “I’m certainly cheap enough, since you’re getting my services for free.”
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