“Disappeared?” William echoed. He turned when a fight broke out between two men, and a guard hurried over with a wooden club in his hand.
Ezra, however, did not give them a second look. “Yep,” he replied. “They were taken right here in London and forced to earn their money in a less…respectable manner.” The old man sighed. “It made me sick seein’ how they was treatin’ those women, and I knew of only one way that’d get back at him for what he’d done and make myself a rich man in the process.”
“And that was?” William asked, his porridge forgotten.
“Let’s just say I got more ‘an twenty pounds,” Ezra said with a proud toothless grin. “I took it all.”
William shook his head, unsure what the man meant.
Ezra must have understood his confusion, for he sighed and added, “Ya see, with the money the man made, he had to keep it all in cash and jewels. How’d someone like him explain to bankers where it came from? Many of the jewels’d go around the neck of his wife or his mistresses. But come to find out he had so much, he had to move what he couldn’t hide to a new location.”
“And how did you know?”
“My brother worked for ‘im ‘ere in London,” Ezra replied, his grin increasing. He lowered his voice further. “It was two days from ‘ere that we held up the carriage. There were sacks of money, jewels like you’ve never seen before. I’d loaded the last sack into the wagon when I ‘eard the pistol fire.” He shook his head and sighed. “Phillip died right there; the bullet went straight through his heart. And though I escaped, I’ll never forget seein’ ‘im dying right there on the road.” The old man sniffed and wiped at his nose. “Well, that’s all done now. No sense cryin’ over it. Anyway, with the money hidden, I thought myself safe. But then three months later, I was caught.”
William thought of the man’s words as he took a bite of his porridge without thought. And without tasting it. “The money?” he asked.
“I want you to have it,” Ezra said. Then he was doubled over, his cough worse than William had ever heard it. The fit lasted a full minute, and he gasped for air as he said, “But you must promise me one thing.”
William nodded.
“Though you’re a prisoner, I do see the good in you. I believe you’ll stand by your word.”
“Indeed,” William replied. “These surroundings, though they torment me and have stripped away my former life, I still am bound by my word.”
Ezra nodded. “For there among the treasure is sumthin’ that’s more valuable than any jewel. There’s some writin’ there…”
William listened as Ezra explained, and when the old man finished, William could only sit back in his chair. Could what this man said be true? Yet, Ezra had no reason to lie to him. Regardless, it was this man who had treated him with kindness and taken William under his wing who William chose to believe.
“You have my word,” William said just as another fight broke out behind them.
Ezra gave him a nod, ignoring the scuffle, and grabbed his bowl from the table, and William did the same. They took their bowls to a large tub where another prisoner swished them around in the cold water and added them to a stack of other bowls, porridge still sticking to the sides.
When William returned to his cell, he lay on his cot and looked up at the ceiling, the promise he had made Ezra still playing in his mind. This was how William would redeem himself of his sins.
***
A month had passed since Ezra had told William his tale, and though he thought about it numerous times, William could find no lies in the words the old man said. With the amount of money Ezra said he had hidden, William would be able to not only set things straight in his life, but he could also keep the promise he made to Ezra. He had thirty days remaining of his sentence, more than enough time for him to create a plan of action.
Despite having, for the first time in a long time, something on which to focus his thoughts, William could not help but think about his former life. Though his father had told him never to return to Applefield Estates, William believed the man would welcome him back regardless. How often had the man made such threats to either him or Evan? If William was simply given a chance to explain, perhaps the man would believe that what had happened had not been his fault.
“Give me his coat!” a man shouted from outside the cell.
William opened his eyes and turned to see a group of men huddled around Ezra’s cell.
“I’ll take the blanket,” another said.
They were robbing Ezra! William jumped up from the cot and hurried over. However, when he arrived, he froze when his eyes fell on the old man who had befriended him, a man who stared up at nothing, his eyes clouded in death. Never again would William hear his croaky laughter or share in stories of days gone by.
William glared at the other men even as he fought back tears that threatened to fall. They were even stealing Ezra’s shirt from his body!
“Have you no decency?” William cried, pushing first one man away and then another. “Have you no respect for the dead?”
He went to speak again, but the men turned on him. Fists came crashing into his face, his stomach, his sides. He fell to the ground, crying for help as pain wracked his body, and then he fell into darkness.
Chapter Three
Storm clouds lined the horizon as Caroline Rumsbury adjusted the spectacles on her nose. She shook from that memory of years before. A storm that night had battered England, as well, when she was a servant and the son of a baron had kissed her against her will. The man was deeply troubled by her words, and his anger had increased to the point that he had sent her out into the night without money and without a reference.
For months she had wandered about in search of work but to no avail. She had found meaningless positions that lasted perhaps a week or two at most, but it was not until a year after losing her position that she came to find Doctor Edmund Brown. Or rather, he found her.
She had given up all hope in life, so she went to the rundown building used as a medical clinic for the poor. There was little the old doctor could do for many of his patients, not without funds, but he did what he could.
“I see nothing wrong with you,” Doctor Brown had said with a kind smile. “Nothing that a hot meal and a warm bed would not heal.”
“There must be something you can give me, some sort of medicine, that will take my life.”
The old doctor had stared at her in shock. “I will do no such thing…!”
The sound of commotion in the waiting area caught their attention, and Caroline hurried behind the doctor to see what had happened.
A man, bleeding from a wound in his side, lay on the floor, a woman weeping above him.
“He’s been stabbed, Doctor!” the woman sobbed. “Tell me ye can help! I can’t be tryin’ to raise our ten children on me own!”
“You,” Doctor Brown shouted at Caroline, “in the other room there is a box of linen scraps and a suture kit. Bring them to me.”
Caroline did not hesitate. She rushed into the room and found both items without a problem and then hurried back to the doctor.
It was not long before Caroline and the doctor were washing the blood from their hands, the man’s wounds stitched up and he making his way home as he leaned against his grateful wife.
“You did a good job there, Missy,” the doctor said as he wiped his hands on a clean cloth. “Most women would have fainted at seeing all that blood.”
“It does not bother me,” Caroline replied. “I find it to just be a part of one’s body and nothing more.”
“Look, I'm in need of an assistant. You seem well-educated and not a bit squeamish. I can only give you room and board, and meals, of course. Unfortunately, when one is a doctor to the poor, one does not make as much money as the doctors who treat women with the vapors.”
Caroline could not help but join in the man’s chuckling, and from that day forth, she became his assistant.
At first, she worried he would wa
nt more from her—her mind had turned to Lord William and his antics that night all too often—however, he treated her with the utmost respect, for which she was glad. And surprised. In her year of roaming the streets, many men had offered to help only to want more in exchange than she was willing to give. Yet, the kind doctor never once tried to kiss her or to rub his hands across her back as others had.
“You stare off as though you wish a man to appear and save you from my boring lectures,” Doctor Brown said, breaking Caroline from her thoughts.
She turned and smiled. “I apologize, Doctor.”
He chuckled. “I promise I will not lecture you today.”
“That is sad to hear,” Caroline replied. “I was hoping for a lecture to help put me to sleep in this dreary weather.”
They laughed, for they shared a wonderful camaraderie.
“You need a husband,” Doctor Brown said as he walked to his desk and took a seat. “I’m afraid too much time around me will make you boring to any suitor.”
“A man seeks not a spinster,” Caroline said. “Or a woman who works.” Her traitorous mind returned to Lord William as thunder rumbled outside. Why did that man continue to haunt her every thought? “Besides you, I believe that all men are pigs. I would much rather remain busy with my charity work here with you than to marry.”
Doctor Brown heaved a heavy sigh and removed his glasses before he glanced at them and then at her. “I still do not understand why you choose to wear spectacles,” he said as he rubbed his eyes. “You are far too beautiful to hide behind them.”
The words, spoken as if from a caring father, warmed her heart. He was correct in that she did not need them to see, but they served an important purpose. Most men did not give a woman who wore such a contraption a second look, and so she was able to maintain the vow she had given to never love any man, for as she had said to the good doctor, most were no better than animals.
All the times she had considered love, she somehow returned to that night with Lord William. The man had destroyed her life and broken her heart. She had found him handsome and his kind deeds had been alluring. However, he became the devil when he drank. He had broken her to where she no longer had the will to live, and for that, she would never forgive him. And now, four years later, she had found a kind of happiness in helping others, her sadness long since replaced by charity.
“It seems you wish me to leave,” Caroline teased. “Have you found a woman to marry?” She laughed as he went to the high-back chair, the patterns on the fabric long faded.
“Not a woman,” the doctor replied. “But retirement.” He sighed. “I'm closing down the charity. But don’t worry; it will be at least a month or so before I leave. The hills of Scotland call to me.”
His words pierced Caroline’s heart. “I understand,” she said in a soft voice. “But what of the charity? The people we help?”
He cackled. “Don’t think I haven’t considered that,” he said. “But with the others that have popped up around the city, I believe people will be cared for. I would not make this choice unless I knew for certain that my doing so wouldn’t hurt our patients.” He produced a thick envelope from the desk drawer. “I have something for you.”
She took the envelope from him and peered inside. It contained a stack of notes of all denominations, even several in denominations of twenty pounds. “Doctor?” she asked in shock. “I do not understand.”
“Though I think it would be nice for you to come with me, I don’t believe your future involves living with an old man in seclusion.” He gave her a wink as she wiped away a tear. “There’s enough there to find you a new home to rent, and I spoke with the director of the Charity of the Apostle. He is more than eager to have a woman with an understanding of medicine giving them aid.”
The doctor rose from his chair and Caroline followed suit. “I do not know what to say. Only thank you.”
A tear rolled down the old doctor’s cheek, catching on the gray stubble on his chin. “I should be thanking you. Before you came into my life, I found my days as dreary as yours. The strength you have possessed to overcome your sorrows, your eagerness to learn, it has been admirable. I will miss you, my dear.”
Trying not to cry, Caroline embraced the man and kissed his cheek. “I will miss you, as well,” she whispered in his ear as she hugged him one more time. “I hope your retirement is beautiful and that you get the rest you deserve.” The poor man worked all day and into most nights, never refusing to help anyone who came calling. He was what a man should be, and Caroline wondered if there was any other like him.
“Tonight, I leave for Cambridge. I will return in two weeks. I suspect I shall find the place in good order when I return?”
Caroline laughed, remembering the first time he had left her alone. He had playfully accused her of hosting a party for the ton. At the time, she had thought him serious, and she had been mortified. Now, she understood his sense of humor. And she would miss it.
“Will you please leave,” she said, walking to the door and opening it for him. “The duke and duchess are to arrive soon, and I cannot have them find a commoner such as yourself in residence.”
“I knew it!” Doctor Brown said with a laugh. “I will see you in a fortnight. When I return, we will toast to our new future and the happiness each of us will receive in the process.”
“I look forward to it,” Caroline replied.
When he was gone, she returned to the window and began to consider her new life to come. She would miss working with the old doctor, but he was due a life of leisure. She would continue helping others who were in need of it, for she had been in that place once, and it was her destiny to do just that. Why else would she have been sent to the doctor?
***
The charity would close in a few minutes, and Caroline sipped at her tea as the storm outside howled, bringing with it a deluge of rain. She closed her eyes as she thought of what Doctor Brown had said earlier about a man appearing at the door to take her away. In truth, she had dreamed of such a man, but each time she had, that image of Lord William came to mind, and she was forced to push it away.
The dream always happened in the same way. The man would come bearing words of love and safety, and once in his arms, he would then try to have his way with her. And as had happened in truth, she was sent off into the night to fend for herself.
Opening her eyes, she took another sip of her tea and grimaced. Her mind had gone off on its tangent, leaving her with cold tea and an aching heart. She wondered about the money the doctor had given her. It was more than a kind gesture; it was overwhelming. He had educated her in the ways of medicine, fed and clothed her, and even provided a small allowance when he could. With that money, she would be able to purchase a new dress, rent a tiny flat, and perhaps keep back a bit in case of an emergency. She feared losing her home again and vowed never to be without funds as she once had been.
The door opened and a man entered the office, his clothing soaked from the rain.
“I need to speak to the doctor,” the man said, and then added, “please.”
“I'm sorry, but he is away for some time.” She set her cup on the table. “I'm his assistant. Might I be of some help?”
The man looked her over with skepticism. “A woman doctor?”
Caroline sighed. “I'm not a doctor, but I am qualified as his assistant and trained in all areas of medicine bar surgeries.” Many men had much the same reaction as this man when they learned of her extensive training under Doctor Brown. “If you would like to sit and wait a fortnight for his return, you may.”
The man let out a hearty laugh. “I apologize, miss. My name is Andrew and we are in need of a doctor. We have a man who is injured and is struggling to breathe. He’s been beaten pretty badly.”
Caroline reached for the black bag Doctor Brown always took with him on his runs. “Where is this? Do you own the Blind Beggar Pub?” All too often, the doctor had been called to that particular establishment after sever
al of the patrons took out their aggressions on one another. It was known for its fights, for most of the men who drank there were of the lowest caliber. Yet, Doctor Brown never turned anyone away, not even men such as frequented the Blind Beggar.
“No. I’m a guard at Walnut Lane Prison. Do you know where it is?”
Caroline nodded, but fear raced through her. The prison was notorious for its housing of some of the worst criminals—those who were not hanged for their crimes, that is. She had never been there herself, but Doctor Brown had told her tales that made her skin go cold.
“So, will you help? If this man dies, I’ll get blamed. It happened on my watch.”
Of course, the man would care more for his position at the prison than the well-being of the prisoner, for they were seen as the worst of society, even more so than spinsters.
“I will help,” Caroline replied as she adjusted her spectacles. “I care not what this man has done. I have sworn an oath to help all who need help.” The fact that her oath was given to Doctor Brown made little difference to her.
The man opened the door, and with her medical bag in hand, she walked through, not missing the look of relief the man wore.
“Good,” he replied, “for he’s a murderer. This won’t be the first time someone has seen him covered in blood. It’s just that this time it’s his own.”
Chapter Four
Cold. Damp. Dreary. Those were just a few of the words that entered Caroline’s mind as she walked through the prison with Andrew. Few windows allowed small amounts of light to enter the otherwise dark place. Nothing but harsh iron sconces adorned the stone walls, unless one would consider the bits of condensation as a form of décor. And the smell! She had never smelled anything so foul in her life. Much like some of the alleyways in which she had lived for the time she was on the streets, a stench of urine and unwashed bodies permeated the air. Only here it was a hundred times worse. At least on the street there was open air to help keep the odors to a comparable minimum.
Redeeming The Rake (Delicate Hearts Book 3) Page 2