Was her love for Stratford strong enough to do that for him?
She crawled to the straw in the corner and closed her eyes, not even trying to stop the tears from flowing.
Chapter Five
A squeak from her cell door awakened Lydia. This time the sound wasn’t a loud thump as it had been when Miss Queensbury had come. The sound was soft and slow, as if whoever had opened the door didn’t want anyone to know what he or she was doing.
With a glance toward the direction of the hall, Lydia realized it must still be nighttime. There was only the faintest of light from the corridor and voices from down the way were silent when during the day keepers walked about with lanterns and the cries and screams of patients were constant. Why would someone be coming into her cell in the darkness?
Fully awake with the realization that something wasn’t right — although nothing was right about her current situation — Lydia tugged her blanket tight around her middle and did her best to tuck her feet beneath her. She cringed when her chain rattled loudly on the hard surface of the floor.
A large shape filled the doorway. The dim light barely showed around the person’s shoulders. Someone that large had to be the either the bulky matron or—
A step, then the sound of something dragging on the floor sent terror through Lydia. It wasn’t the matron. It was the keeper with the lame foot. If it had been daytime, Lydia would have at least been able to make out who the visitor was when he stepped into the cell. But why would he come during the dark hours?
Despite her best intentions, Lydia’s whole body shook. Mr. Steele. The one who took such pleasure in beating her for no apparent reason. Lydia was just beginning to heal from the last encounter. Had he come back for more? In secret that time?
“Guess’n you’re awake. Heard your chain movin’.” His low voice sounded like gravel being crushed beneath horses’ hooves.
She tried to back up, but she was already pressed so close to the wall that the dampness permeated her blanket. “What do you want?”
Another step. Another drag of his foot. “Now… that ain’t no way to talk to me. Cause you know I can do things to you that you won’t like one bit, don’t ya?”
She nodded.
“What’s that? Didn’t hear nothin’.”
“Y-yes.”
The cell door shut with a soft click, so different from how the keepers usually entered, more like something as loud as crashing cymbals. But during the day, they had nothing to hide. Three more combinations of a step and a drag followed. Mr. Steele was close. Lydia could smell his body odor wafting down from above. Must be pretty awful if she could smell it over the already terrible stench of her filthy cell. Not to mention the fact that she hadn’t been able to so much as wash her own face or bathe at all since she’d been brought to Bedlam.
“Now there, miss.” A grunt preceded a loud crack of his knees as he knelt in front of her. His hot breath coursed across her face. She closed her eyes tightly hoping that would make him go away. “Let’s you and me have a little chat, shall we?
Oh how she wanted to move away from him. Was he going to beat her again? In the past, he’d never suggested talking to her first, just started pounding on her face and neck. “Ch-chat about what?” As soon as the words were out, she wished she could retrieve them. She didn’t want to know what he had in mind.
He laughed, a raspy sound reminding Lydia of dry leaves rubbing together. “I think you an’ me should get to know each other better.”
No. That didn’t sound at all like a good idea. She swallowed hard, hoping to get some moisture to her dry throat.
He leaned in and tugged her blanket down from one shoulder. His fetid breath left a hot trail down her bare chest. What was he doing? Surely he didn’t intend to—
Long, sharp fingernails raked the skin on her other shoulder, causing a jolt of pain as Mr. Steele pulled the blanket lower on that side.
She batted at his hand. “Stop. Please.”
“But I don’t wanna stop.”
Lydia leaned away. “I can’t… that is, please don’t—”
He chuckled. “Don’t, what? Reach under your blanket and have a nice feel around?”
Lydia stared at him. It had been her precise thought, but she’d hoped it hadn’t been his.
He stretched his hand toward the opening in her blanket where she clutched the fabric together with all of her might. Strength she didn’t know she possessed in her weakened state took over, and she turned away, far enough that his hand grasped only air.
“Hey. Don’t be doin’ that. I wanna see what’s under that blanket.”
“No!” She shouted it so loud that Mr. Steele recoiled and tipped back, falling on his bottom. In the past, she’d been careful not to yell for fear one of the keepers would come back and beat her for making too much noise. But he was already there and appeared to have something much worse than a beating in mind. If she could garner someone else’s attention, she cared not who, all the better to stop him. “Someone help! Please!”
He slapped her face hard, so hard she feared it might snap her neck. “You be quiet, and this will all be over before ya know it.”
“Stop!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. An answering cry from the cell next to her came screeching through the wall. Maybe Lydia could wake up enough people to thwart Mr. Steele’s plans for her. It was worth a try.
When she opened her lips to shout again, Mr. Steele clapped his hand over her mouth. The taste of filthy skin sickened her, but she forced herself to do something she’d never done to a person before.
She sunk her teeth deep into his hand.
He howled in pain, raining curses down on her. “How dare you? I’m bleeding, you bitch!” He kicked her hard, nearly causing himself to stumble as he tried to balance on his bad leg. “Just for that, I’m takin’ your rations.”
“Wait!” She tried to grab the bowl of gruel that sat on the floor next to her. There wasn’t much in it, but it was all she had. She’d learned soon after she’d gotten to Bedlam to parcel out what they gave her and not gobble it all up at once even though she was always still hungry when she ate whatever they brought her. If she was allowed to wear clothing, she bet her dresses would hang on her.
He snatched the bowl before she could get it. “Now we’ll see how you like starving to death. Won’t be near as much fun as me taking you would have been.”
“Don’t do this. You wouldn’t want me to… die, would you?”
He hobbled to the door and opened it. In the dim light, he turned back toward her. “And why would I care if you died? Just one less crazy woman I have to see to.”
Mr. Steele stepped into the corridor and closed her cell door. As he lumbered down the hall, she could hear some off-key tune. The fiend was whistling.
Trying to comfort herself at not having any more food, Lydia tugged the blanket tighter. At least she could still cover herself. And he hadn’t taken her virginity.
Yet.
Chapter Six
At Nathaniel’s invitation, Stratford stepped into the bedroom where Kitty was spending the rest of her confinement. It felt odd to be in her temporary room, but with his cousin there, as well as Patience, his uneasiness began to fade. Thank goodness Kitty and Nathaniel were of a forgiving nature. When Stratford had attempted to seduce Kitty before she married Nathaniel, the outcome could have been much worse.
“Stratford,” Kitty held out her hand to him, and he stepped forward to press it briefly. “How are you faring?”
“Me?” He chuckled. “I’m more concerned about you. You’re the one to soon give birth to the offspring of my cousin.” He grimaced and pointed his thumb over his shoulder at Nathaniel.
Kitty giggled. “Play nice. You can’t say much about him without implicating yourself.”
“True, that.” He lifted the corners of his mouth and tilted his head. “Honestly… are you well?”
She glanced up at Nathaniel and back. “So far, yes. But the physician insis
ts I stay abed until the birth.”
“I’m sure it’s unpleasant, but it won’t be much longer now, will it?”
“No. I would do anything for my child, so believe me, I’m not complaining. It’s… Lydia I’m concerned for.”
He nodded. After visiting her, he was concerned, as well.
She edged forward a little on the bed until Patience touched her shoulder. With a sigh, Kitty leaned back again. “I wanted to thank you for delivering my letter to Lydia at Bedlam. I know it’s not a pleasant experience to go there.”
Stratford tugged on his cravat, suddenly feeling that the room had grown too warm. “You’re welcome.”
“How did she seem to you?”
There wasn’t a good way to answer that. “She was… glad to have some company, I believe.”
“Yes, I’m sure that’s true. I wish I could go and be with her. Or that Nathaniel or Patience could—”
“Darling,” Nathaniel interrupted. “We’ve been through this. We don’t know why Patience was denied access the last couple of times she went to Bedlam. And the physician wants you kept as calm as possible and feels that I need to attend to you at all times. You need your family here, with you.”
“Lydia is my family too.”
“Yes,” Nathaniel let out a sigh. “I know. Believe me, it hurts my heart as it does yours that she must be there.”
Stratford peered over his shoulder at his cousin. “Is there no word from your solicitor as to how or when she might be released?”
“None. Every time he tries to even request an audience with the Principal Physician, he’s turned away. It makes no sense. Lydia doesn’t belong there. We’re not sure who had her committed or why.”
Sniffles came from Stratford’s left. Poor Patience was blinking hard, trying not to cry.
Kitty patted her youngest sister’s hand and addressed Stratford. “We’re all so concerned for her, as you can imagine.”
“Of course.”
“Would it be too presumptuous to ask you to visit her again?”
He opened his mouth to speak but didn’t get the chance.
Kitty rushed on. “I don’t want her to be alone, and under the circumstances, you are our best hope of someone giving her aid. I know it’s a lot to ask.”
Nathaniel stepped closer. “Kitty, Stratford might not have the opportunity. Since I’m not putting in hours at the magazine at present, he must bear the load.”
Bear the load… Stratford remembered all the times in the past when he’d just not bothered to make an appearance at work and poor Nathaniel had to do the jobs of both men. “Nonsense,” he forced out. “I can easily to both.”
Kitty’s smile lit up the small room. “Do you mean it?”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes briefly and let out a long breath. “Thank you so much. You have no idea how…” Her words caught on a small sob. Nathaniel handed her a handkerchief.
With that in mind, Stratford needed to go to his father’s office soon and get some things done. Not that he could do it successfully if it involved paperwork, but… he must at least appear to try to do Nathaniel’s job if he couldn’t be there himself. Perhaps he should make his excuses to his cousin so he could leave and—
Kitty touched his hand. “I meant to ask, did Lydia say anything about my letter? I’d hoped perhaps she’d be able to send me a short note back. I’d even included a small piece of foolscap in with mine so she might do so.” Her mouth turned down at the corners. “Though maybe she didn’t feel like answering, being where she is. Surely there wouldn’t be much of pleasant interest which she’d want to convey.”
Stratford felt wretched. To think Kitty had been waiting for a reply from her sister when Lydia didn’t even know what the letter had said. “I’m certain she… she’s just tired and… couldn’t think of anything to say.”
With a nod, Kitty attempted a pleasant expression, but it didn’t last long. “You’re probably right. I’m just being selfish.”
“No, not at all.”
Nathaniel moved closer and wrapped his arm around Kitty’s shoulders. “Darling, don’t think like that. You’ll only upset yourself. And it isn’t good for the baby. Remember what the physician said.”
“I know. Yes, you’re right, of course.” She focused on Stratford again, holding him hostage with the pleading in her eyes. “If only… That is, if you could at least tell me if she told you of any thoughts she had after she read the note. Anything would be helpful.”
He couldn’t tell her that Lydia had been unable to read the note herself because of double vision from a beating. Somehow, Stratford didn’t think that bit of news would help Kitty stay calm. In addition to that, he also couldn’t seem to force out the reason for him not reading the note to Lydia. He’d never told another living soul about his problem. Now wasn’t the right time to start. What would they think of him? Would they see him in a different light if he confessed to his peculiarity? Look down on him as someone to be pitied?
He didn’t want that. Had never wanted that. No, better to stumble his way through this particular conversation and worry about admitting his deficiencies later.
Later was always the best time for unpleasantness, wasn’t it?
Stratford cleared his throat. What could he say that wasn’t an outright falsehood but that would also appease Kitty’s worries about her imprisoned sister? He’d have to guess at what Kitty had written and hope for the best.
“Well,” He studied his hands, which seemed to have a life of their own as they twitched on his lap. With purpose, he held them still. But he couldn’t quite meet Kitty’s eye. “Lydia wishes you wouldn’t worry for her. Any of you. That… that she wants you all to concentrate on the baby and his or her health.”
There. That should be true enough. Lydia had in fact said something to that effect.
Kitty nodded. She raised one hand a few inches from the blanket that was spread over her lap, made a small movement with her finger, and waited.
She wishes me to continue? He sighed. “She’s longing to see you again, but not at the expense of your health.”
That time, Kitty nodded. And waited some more.
“She’s also drawing a panorama on the wall.”
Kitty’s eyes sparkled. “Is she? How wonderful. Surely that will bring her some cheer as she spends so much time alone in her cell.”
He nodded, eager to leave, anxious to escape the lies he was telling Kitty. He didn’t want to tell her falsehoods and hoped that at least most of what he was saying was true and would appease her.
“What is the panorama of?” Kitty tilted her head and peered up at him.
Oh dear. He pictured George, the cat, appearing for all the world like the saddest creature ever to exist. There wasn’t any way Stratford could describe it to Kitty without it being upsetting. “I… well…”
Something tapped Stratford’s knee, and he caught his breath. Looking down, he was relieved to see the cat in question patting at his trouser leg. “As a matter of fact, her panorama is of your cat.”
Kitty sighed. “That makes me feel so good. Perhaps seeing his sweet little face every day will give her some comfort.”
“Perhaps.” Though the way Lydia had portrayed the cat wouldn’t give anyone comfort. He glanced down at George, who was making his way across the blanket toward his mistress. Especially not George. Thank goodness the furry little waif was safe and protected instead of how Lydia had imagined him.
Kitty patted her leg, gaining her cat’s attention. George hurried toward her and curled up in a ball, purring and kneading the soft blanket. Lydia had mentioned how she’d wished she could actually have the cat for a companion in her cell. If Stratford believed he could get away with it, he’d try to smuggle the cat in to her. However, he’d be afraid some mischief might befall Kitty’s beloved pet in that place. Stratford didn’t at all trust the rough appearance of some of the keepers he’d seen roaming about. No, though he’d like to take him to Lydia, th
e cat was safer here.
“Anything else?” Kitty eyed him expectantly.
Stratford inwardly groaned. He cared for his cousin’s wife as a valued member of the family, but right at that moment, he wished to be anywhere else. No… don’t ever wish that. Never again. Had Lydia ever made that wish? To be anyplace else but where she was? Stratford bet she’d now reconsider that sentiment, because where she happened to be at the moment couldn’t get very much worse. He rubbed his face with his hand. “Let’s see… She spoke of her affection for all of you… Thanked me more than once for visiting. Appreciated your letter.” That much at least is true.
Hmmm. What could he say that wouldn’t be upsetting? “She’s making the acquaintance of the person in the next cell.” If listening to the other person moan was getting acquainted.
“She was glad to have been supplied with a drawing utensil for her panorama.” Though the sight of the minuscule pencil hadn’t been impressive. Did she have to beg even for that small item of comfort?
Kitty yawned behind her hand. As Stratford was quickly running out of things to tell her, perhaps he could use her weariness as an excuse.
He stood and took her hand. “Kitty, I can see that you need your rest.”
She started to protest, but he shook his head.
“For you and the babe.” He gave a meaningful look to Nathaniel, who nodded vigorously.
Nathaniel rubbed Kitty’s shoulders. “My dear, he’s right. You don’t want to tire yourself out.”
Kitty frowned at both men but then shrugged. “I suppose you’re right. But, Stratford, you will return to see her, won’t you? It will put my mind at ease knowing she has someone there to offer her comfort.”
“You have my word.”
“Thank you.”
Before she could find something else about which to question him, he hurried from the room and down to the kitchen. He’d smuggle some food into the prisoner of Bedlam if it was the last thing he did. The poor girl had never been so thin. If she were to keep losing weight, Stratford seriously feared for her health.
Color of Danger (The Sullyard Sisters Book 2) Page 5