Throughout this speech, Treadwell was laying down brick after brick in the narrow opening. Laura was too bewildered and groggy from the blow to her head to understand what he was doing. And then she saw he was building a wall in the two-foot span of the alcove’s opening from the bricks.
“The poetic quality of my revenge is that Caine will have it in his power to save you, but will he? As soon as he opens the door downstairs and sees that tight coffin of a stair, Caine will panic. You may scream and beg and weep but he will not make the climb. Nor will he send for help. He is too arrogant to let anyone bear witness his cowardice. This time, the wife he pretended to murder will be dead by his hand in reality. It has a lovely symmetry.”
The wall was going up at an astonishing speed. Laura rushed to break through and Treadwell viciously shoved her back. She slammed against the back wall, striking her head.
“My father was a bricklayer,” he said coolly. “I enjoy the work. It is very soothing.”
“Don’t do this! You mistake Mr. Caine’s regard for me. The wedding was not real. It is true we are married, but there is no feeling between us. He means to petition for divorce within the week.”
Treadwell hesitated, considering this statement. A brick dangled from his hand.
“He does not love me,” she said. Hope was rising. “He has told me so.”
Chapter Ten
TREADWELL FROWNED. Sweat had streaked his face from the labour. His eyes were glassy and hinted at madness.
Then he shook his head. “No, I was watching him with you yesterday in the rain. He loves you. It will destroy Caine if anything happens to you. And he’ll suffer all the more knowing he could have saved you, but didn’t.”
“You are wrong!” she screamed. “He will not come—because—because he thinks I have left him! I told him so this morning. I’m leaving him and returning to my parents in France. I was on my way to the Telegraph Office to cable them. Tanner will not come.”
“I don’t expect him to come,” he sneered. “I expect him to recoil from the very thought of this confined space. Regardless of your feelings for Caine, he is in love with you, and it is his spirit I wish to break. I’ll be sure to tell him where he may find your body. Good-bye, Laura Mayhew. ”
He ladled a dollop of mortar cement onto the top brick. She watched as Treadwell lifted the last brick and slid it in place, cutting off the last of the light.
She was sealed in.
§
TANNER RECEIVED the message from Mrs. Sharpton and tore it open. It would be Laura, telling him where she was. He could have slit his throat for allowing such a hope.
By now you will suspect that Miss Mayhew will not be returning home. You have perhaps guessed that she is either dead or in grave danger. A reasonable assumption given your history with the women you love. Let me ease your mind. Your lady is not dead but her danger is grave indeed. One might say she has found a tomb ready-made for her.
Now Tanner, I am giving you ample time to save her. Her supply of air will not run out until this evening if she does not succumb to hysterics. You’ll find Miss Mayhew in the Granary—a building that is well known to you if I recall. It is where you confessed your fear of tight spaces to me. One should never admit a fear to an enemy. He may use it against you one day. As I used yours against you six years ago. You revenged yourself against me. Now it is my turn.
Reaching your lady will be a tight squeeze. Try not to think of the walls closing in on you.
Treadwell
Tanner crushed the note and flung it in the fire. There wasn’t time for rage.
He snatched up his knife and into the sheath in his boot. Tanner pulled on his cloak and banged out of the house. A Hansom cab was waiting at the corner; he jumped in, gave the order and was away. He would be at the Granary under thirty minutes.
The Granary.
He remembered it well. Six years ago, he had panicked in front of Treadwell when they were inside the narrow tower. They had been sent there to fetch supplies that had been temporarily stored in the old building.
Treadwell had laughed at his confession, but did not object to emptying the storeroom himself of the crates. Tanner thought the man had forgotten the incident until the day he ordered Tanner to serve time in the Box and he saw the look of cunning look in Treadwell’s eye.
Six years ago, Tanner had beaten him out of hatred, not revenge. Hatred burns hot and fast and is gone in a flash. Revenge has a cooler flavour. The next time he had Treadwell in his grasp, Tanner would beat him until he was dead. Blow by killing blow.
The carriage stopped in front of the Granary. Tanner paid and climbed down.
It had not changed. He felt his stomach clench as he opened the door. There was no time to waste seeking help. Laura would be fighting for every breath.
Tanner left the door open to admit fresh air. He removed his cloak and vest to trim his size as much as possible. And then he began climbing the stairs. His boots scraped the stone, his shoulders fought for space. Twisting like a corkscrew, up he climbed into the tightest space imaginable. For a person of Laura’s size, the stair would be uncomfortably close. For a man of Tanner’s bulk, it was near to being a shroud. He broke out into a violent sweat. His heart pounded sickeningly. Panic clawed at his throat.
“Let me reach her,” he said aloud, bargaining with Fate, his father, and the destiny that would not release him. He would accept what they demanded. “Only let me reach her and I’ll not see her again. I’ll send her away. I will not love her. Only let me reach her in time.”
He closed his eyes and thought only of Laura. Laura. He breathed her name in and out with each step.
Then reaching the top and finding no relief from the claustrophobic prison, he almost gave up. Treadwell was thorough in his revenge. It was taking all of Tanner’s strength of will not to hurl his body against the stone walls, bashing his fists and head until he was bloody.
There was a sound.
Tanner halted, straining to listen. He wiped sweat from his eyes.
She was crying just behind the brick wall.
He tapped the brick work with his knuckles. The mortar was fresh. He pounded harder, thumping the wall until he found a brick that moved.
The mortar had not set in this section of the wall. Tanner pressed against it with his shoulder and the wall heaved.
“Laura! Laura! Are you there? I’m coming for you. Hold on. I am coming!”
Tanner dug his nails into the soft compound and it came away. He removed his knife from the sheath in his boot and scraped at the mortar. The bricks loosened.
“Laura, I’m coming. It won’t be long now. Don’t die! For fuck’s sake, just do not die.”
Sweat streamed in his eyes. Easing the bricks out one at a time while she was possibly breathing her last tore at his nerves, but he could not risk battering the wall and crushing Laura under its weight.
He had peeled away a half-dozen bricks before he could finally see inside. She would have air enough now to breathe and answer his calls. Why did she not answer? The alcove was narrow and dark. Tanner struck a match and held it to the opening.
“Laura, for the love of God—say something!”
“Tanner.”
Her voice was weak and sounded like she had been weeping for hours. But she was alive.
“Thank God! Laura, move back! Move as far back as you can and shield your face.”
Tanner ran at the wall. With a mighty spring, he rammed the brick wall with his shoulder. The wall heaved but did not give way. Laura began to sob.
The close suffocation he had been battling evaporated. Tanner ran at the wall again, this time filled with rage. He leaped into the air, throwing his whole weight against the brick with a roar. It gave way, collapsing under the force of his assault.
Tanner fell with it, landing on top of the heap of bricks. A cloud of ghostly dust lit by the skylight rose up. Tanner moved to Laura’s side. She was crouched in the corner, her hands over her head.
&nbs
p; “Laura, it is Tanner. You are safe.”
She didn’t move. He feared her mind was broken.
And then slowly, very slowly, she turned. Her voice was weak, choked by tears and lack of breath, but she spoke to him.
“Your curse has not killed me, Tanner. You see? I am still alive.”
§
TANNER LIFTED her in his arms and carried her from the tower. She never knew how. The way down was steep and she remembered how the walls pressed in. He said he was using them for support. He was strangely silent on the ride home. Laura gulped cold English sea air as soon as they were outside and did not notice his silence at first.
When they reached Baker Street and his mood did not alter, she was filled with foreboding.
Tanner bent over the fire in the grate. He had hung up his cloak and scraped back his hair to splash cold water on his face. All without meeting her eye.
She took off the nurse’s head covering and started to remove her dress.
He stopped her. “Don’t. We won’t be staying.”
“Oh? Where are we going?” Her stomach was distressed. Her mind strained uselessly to read his thoughts.
“To the Empire Theatre. You will stay with Arabella until your parents can be reached.”
“No—what? Why? No! I am all right—I am safe! Tanner, there is no need. Treadwell is not a threat to us now.”
“Not Treadwell. I shall deal with him. But what about the others?”
“What others?”
“I have told you I have a past. Men I have killed. Reputations I have destroyed. I have collected enemies where other men collect friends. You will never be safe as long as you are with me.”
“Is that all? That is nothing to me! Let them come. I am not afraid.”
“I don’t want you,” he said in a flat cold voice. “I am sorry to hurt you. I am sorry I allowed you to believe we had a future. We do not. Treadwell did me a favour. His petty revenge confirmed for me that I cannot spend my days rescuing you or protecting you from threats. My job is dangerous and necessarily violent. That is not going change.”
“You are in shock still. It was terrible for you. Do not make a decision now. Let us sleep tonight and we will talk again in the morning.”
“No.” He looked her full in the face so there could be no mistake. “I am not in shock. I am quite calm. I do not want you, Laura. I do not love you. Now, get your cloak. Arabella is waiting.”
§
HE PRESENTED the girl as a liability that he wanted to be rid of and his former lover was delighted to oblige. Tanner Caine would have another chance at her bed.
Arabella sat at her dressing table, applying her stage makeup. “I have given her supper but she won’t eat. She picks at it. Says she has no appetite. What in the world did you do to her?”
“Nothing. I am innocent as a lamb.” Tanner scowled. “Why must you think the worst of me?”
The actress sidled up to him with her ample bosom thrust out to be admired. “Perhaps because I know you too well. She isn’t pregnant, is she? I cannot cope with retching in the morning.”
Tanner’s jaw tightened oddly and he seemed to have difficulty speaking. “No. She is a nuisance of another kind. I cannot have her around. She causes trouble—attracts it like a plague. The friendship I have shown her has come near to costing me my patronage with the Queen. Her parents can take charge of her. She is their responsibility.”
Arabella shrugged. “We shall manage fine. It is too bad she has to go to France. I have need of a dresser. Oh well. I assume you are willing to pay?”
Tanner handed her a purse of coins. “Be kind to her. She has suffered a shock. I deceived her and she is not taking it well. And I would deem it a personal favour if you kept her identity a secret.”
Arabella lifted a brow. “You mean I must tell no one she is your cast-off? Darling, this is the theatre! It is impossible to keep any secrets backstage.”
She turned back to her mirror. “All right, there is no need to scowl at me. I shall tell my fellow thespians she is a friend of my little sister, eager to learn stagecraft.” She paused, staring at her reflection with a critical eye. “Do you know, I think she could understudy the ingénue in The Drunkard. We usually employ Olive but she is almost fifty-years-old and has a mustache. A real ingénue would be far more effective.”
Tanner shook his head. “Do not become attached. I’ll be returning her to her mother as soon as I receive word. Keep her with you at all times. Do not tell anyone she is here at my request.”
“Why ever not? Who is she? Tanner, you must tell me.”
“She is my wife. That is all I can tell you.”
Arabella gave a low whistle. “Darling, I thought you had learned your lesson.”
“I thought so too. Do you now see why it is important we keep her a secret? It is serious.”
“Yes, dearest, of course I’ll keep her a secret. You know I am only teasing about putting the girl on stage.”
“Thank you. I am grateful. Tell her I said good-bye.”
“Wait! Why don’t you tell her yourself?”
“I can’t—Jesus, have mercy!”
Tanner banged out of the dressing room and charged down the shadowy backstage hall.
§
LAURA HAD been eavesdropping and darted out of sight when Tanner ran from the room. She gave chase and caught up with him in the lane outside the stage door.
Laura took his hand. Tears streamed down her face. “Tanner, won’t you reconsider? We love each other. We must stay together. I feel something terrible will happen if we part.”
“Stop it!” he cried and whirled away from her. “You are making a bloody fool of yourself. You do not know anything about it. It is over.”
“No. No. You must like me a little. You must. Say you do—or I shall—I shall—never recover!”
Tanner Caine was shrouded in darkness, closed off to her.
“You love me,” she said firmly. “You love me, but our love is new and weak. You don’t believe in it. Love begins in violent heat, in pain and blood—but it is not strong. The bonds of our marriage have been forged in the meals we’ve shared, the kindness we have shown each other, the pleasure we have found in bed … and in the acceptance we have for each other. But for our love to survive, you have to believe you can love me and I will survive your love. Tanner, please, won’t you try?”
“You have to stop this, Laura. You will make yourself sick. I am not capable of feeling what you ask. I do not love you. This is becoming intolerable. I have done as much for you as I intend to do. I helped you at the expense of my standing with Her Majesty.”
“You did not kill me on her order. Are you not glad you disobeyed? I was innocent of her charge and yet you regret choosing me over her!”
He caught her by the shoulders and presented his marred left side, forcing her to look into his flawed black eye. “Do you see what I am, Laura, or are you still telling yourself fairy tales? This is what I am. This is the man you think you love. I am an adulterer like my father before me. Faithless, corrupt. I could not be loyal to you even if I did allow myself to love you.”
“You did love me ... you do love me ... what are you saying?”
“I’ve been pardoned by the Queen and cleared of all suspicion. Your parents have been informed the reports of your death stemmed from a terrible misunderstanding. They will send for you if you wish to join them in France.”
“I do not wish to join them,” she said, weeping. “I do not wish to leave you. Tanner, please do not send me away. We could try to be happy—”
He turned on his heel and strode away, his cloak flying behind him. He would not stay and listen. He said he would not in a flash of intuition Laura heard with a sinking heart.
With Tanner’s loss, her gift had returned. Louise was wrong after all. Laura could not have been seeking love with her gift for she did not find it in Tanner Caine. He did not care for her. Her appeal had been temporary, a beauty that was desired but not love
d.
“Go then!” she screamed. “I will not have you back! I hate you! Do you hear? I hate you, Tanner Caine!”
He would return to Arabella. She possessed the charm of not loving him—that is what Tanner desired—that is what Tanner was after. Nothing was demanded of him with Arabella and Marisa. Women like that were unbreakable. Women like Laura were not.
Even now ... her nerves were collapsing. Tears were pouring from her eyes, unstoppable.
Laura watched the man she loved walk away until he was lost to her in the thickening fog.
§
To be continued...
Revealed in the Mist
About the Author
Catherine Lloyd loves reading, watching great episodic television, and writing romance. Love stories that are hot and soul-satisfying are her drug of choice. She was inspired to write Victorian Villains from the gothic romance novels she devoured as a kid. Phyllis A. Whitney, Victoria Holt and Daphne du Maurier combined suspense and romance without the use of vampires.
She decided to release her Victorian stories in installments in the tradition of serialized fiction of the Victorian Age. Magazines nicknamed “the penny dreadful” published genre literature at a low cost in bi-weekly installments. The Victorian Age was an exotic time of science, exploration, high drama and passionate romance on stage and in books. The villains were psychologically fascinating. And hot!
The author has two grown children, two stepdaughters, a cat named Harry (who thinks he’s a dog) and four grandsons. She lives with her long-suffering spouse in the country where she enjoys having no hobbies and writes full time. Follow Catherine on Amazon to be notified of new releases in this series.
Mark of Caine Trilogy: Book Two: Whispers in the Shadows (Victorian Villains) Page 9