Captive Embraces (40 page)

“I know you aren't. That's why I came today. And you're right, I could have decided what to do with Stephan on my own and you need never have known. You taught me too well, Sirena.”

“Get on with it, Caleb. Whatever it is must be important.”

“As I told you, my father came to the ship last night. He told me his business is failing and he is in difficult straits. Most of his capital is tied up and he needs money now or his business will go under.”

“And he managed this all by himself,” Sirena said in amazement. “Are you telling me he has only himself to blame?” She laughed. “What makes you think his business affairs interest me? I couldn't care less.”

“You can't deceive me, Sirena. Right now, you're delighted Regan is going bankrupt. The money he took from you has brought him no luck, and you're glad. Once again, you've proven yourself victorious. Is your victory bitter or sweet?”

Sirena leaned over and looked Caleb square in the eyes. “I did teach you well, little brother. Believe what you will; I love Regan and always will. I'm not a whole woman without him. I've lost him and I've nothing left except bitterness and humiliation. Now, why have you come here to give me this information?”

“So you'll understand why I allowed Father to buy shares in the gambling folly. I dropped off the agreement this morning.” He watched anxiously for some sign of her anger, but instead saw sadness. “I felt I owed you an explanation. I wanted you to hear it from me and not someone else. Least of all, from your ... from Stephan.”

“I think it's time you left, Caleb,” Sirena said, standing and moving to the door.

“Tell me you understand, Sirena,” Caleb pleaded, his face young and boyish in his apprehension.

“I understand, Caleb. I understand you are doing what you swore you would not do. Take sides. I don't think I can forgive you. You've compromised yourself, and I think I know why. It's because of Camilla.” Caleb was about to deny her accusation, but she raised her hand to silence him. “Yes, I saw the two of you together the night of your grand opening. You've been sleeping with her, haven't you?” she questioned rhetorically.

Caleb was stunned and his lean jaw trembled slightly. He became a boy again in her presence. He tried to defend his actions, but Sirena held up her hand again.

“Somehow, Caleb, I thought there was one small portion of you that belonged to me. In many ways I felt we were bound to each other by an invisible cord from those days long ago when we risked life and limb to right a wrong. I've misjudged both you and Regan, and for that I'm sorry. I don't know who has hurt me more. I've had all I can take from the van der Rhys men. Good-bye, Caleb, and good fortune.” She turned on her heel and stalked from the room. Moments later, she was running, tears streaming down her cheeks. She felt as though a part of her heart had been cut away.

 

An hour before Stephan was due home, Sirena sought out Frau Holtz in the kitchens. She drew her aside and whispered to her. “In a fortnight, Frau Holtz, I want to leave this house. I want you to seek Jacobus out and get word to the men. Little by little, so no one will notice, I want our things taken to the ship—in the dead of night if necessary. There must be no mistakes to make Stephan suspicious. We're going back to Batavia. Tomorrow, I will pen off a note to Tyler and Wren is to deliver it after Stephan leaves for the academy. Do you think you can handle this in secrecy, Frau Holtz?”

The old eyes lit up happily.
“Ja,
Mevrouw. I can take care of it. What about the child, is she to come with us?” she asked anxiously.

“But of course, there is no one else to look after her. I plan to take you all to Batavia and make certain that you are settled there.”

The Frau grew agitated. “And you, Mevrouw, where are you going?”

“I have a yen to see America. Perhaps I'll go there, or perhaps I'll just sail the ship till I see someplace that takes my fancy. I don't belong anywhere anymore, Frau Holtz.”

“The Mynheer, what of the Mynheer?”

“What about him?” Sirena snapped. “That part of my life is over. It was over back in Batavia. I acted the fool. When something is over, it's over. I should have realized this before. Regan doesn't belong to me; Caleb doesn't belong to me. I'm alone. Father and son have struck up an alliance and that is as it should be. There is no room in either of their lives for me. It would appear that you and the crew, as well as Wren, are saddled with me.”

Stephan, in a lighthearted mood, talked endlessly through lunch. Sirena couldn't have cared less. She allowed him to drone on and on, listening with half an ear. She tried to be amicable to Stephan since he currently left her totally to herself.

“And what have you planned for the next few days, Sirena?” he asked, nibbling on his lamb chop.

“Whatever could I have planned, Stephan? I haven't left the house in weeks.” Although she tried to keep her voice level, even she heard the note of contempt which crept into it.

“Ah, then you have none. Good. I've organized a little outing for us. I'll expect you to be ready in approximately half an hour.”

“Where are we going? I must know so I can wear something suitable.”

“What you have on will be fine, darling,” he said in his most unctuous voice. “It is only a short carriage ride, nothing more.”

“I don't think so today, darling,” she imitated his tone. “I have a violent headache coming on—”

Stephan threw his flatware against a china plate, creating a loud clattering sound. “I said I would expect you in half an hour. You have no choice, Sirena. Go prepare yourself!”

Sirena watched the muscles work in his jaw and his lips compress. God, how she hated him. “And I told you, I don't care to go.” Her voice was level and strong, meeting his in challenge.

Stephan took his attention away from her and continued eating his lunch. She knew he wasn't finished with her and she waited for his next move. “Sirena, darling, have you noticed any of your jewelry missing? I was looking for my gold timepiece this morning and it was nowhere to be found. I wondered if you, too, were missing any valuables. How long did you say your stoic Frau Holtz worked for you?”

Sirena gasped. He wouldn't! In her heart she knew he could and would. It wouldn't be the first time an employer had accused a servant of thievery and had the poor unfortunate sent to prison. “It won't work, Stephan. I would swear to Frau Holtz's innocence. Your accusation won't hold water.”

“Ah, darling, you women are so loyal, so sentimental. The courts would see at first glance that you would forgive your servant of so many years almost anything. Especially when you protested the poor woman was getting on in her years. But I'm afraid, darling, the judicial system is not based on sentimentality and, as master of this house, it is my word that would stand.”

Sirena sprang up from her place at the table. Thank heaven she would only have to endure another two weeks of this insanity. By then, the
Sea Spirit
would be ready to sail them back to Batavia.

“Where are you going, darling? You haven't finished your lunch?”

“I'm going to prepare myself, as you requested, Stephan!” she retorted hotly, feeling his cold glare as she turned from the room.

In the coach, Sirena stared silently out the window. Jacobus had not been in sight when the carriage had been brought around to the front drive. At the reins was Stephan's own driver. Rathbone acted as footman. The day was bright. Early summer had warmed the air and the people of London were taking advantage of the fine weather. The busy streets were more crowded than usual, and from several pubs the sounds of minstrels' music wafted out into the open.

The coach was following a direct route to the outskirts of the city, and Sirena wondered where Stephan was taking her. He had given his instructions to the driver after she had climbed into the coach, so their destination was still a mystery. Out, past Charing Cross, along the Pall Mall to Whetstone Park on the High Holborn. The driver took a sharp left onto Gray's Inn Lane and Sirena looked at Stephan with puzzlement. They were nearly out of the city.

“If you're wondering, darling, we're nearly at Codpiece Row at Clerkenwell Green.” He watched her face carefully to see if his words held any meaning for her. She turned him a blank look and Stephan smiled.

The carriage pulled up outside the gates of a dark gray, stone building and, in the ironwork over the gate was the sign,
Bethlehem Royal Hospital.
As the coach drove under the high arch, Sirena craned her neck to read the plaque. When she looked back at Stephan, she saw his amused grin. She was horrified, terrified. Bedlam!

She sprang to her feet, knocking her head on the cab's roof, striking with her hands, seeking to gouge out his eyes.

Stephan defended himself by grabbing Sirena roughly and slamming her against the seat, pinning her arms to her sides.

“Control yourself, darling, else they will think you mad and take you from me to pen you in a cage.” His breath was hot against her cheek.

“Let go of me! You're the madman! There's not a soul in all Bedlam more crazed than you!”

“Control yourself!” he ordered. “We only came for a visit. That is all, I promise you. I often come here of an afternoon to take in the sights. It's an inexpensive form of amusement. Many do it. Only a ha'penny and you're admitted into another world.” He laughed, the sound cruel and maniacal in the confines of the coach.

Presently, the vehicle pulled up at the heavy, ironbound doors, and when they entered, Sirena noticed the only latch was on the outside. A guard admitted them and smiled at Stephan with recognition. So, it was true, the bastard did come here to entertain himself by watching the pathetic, soul-less creatures.

Stephan tugged a linen square from his vest pocket and held it to his nose. She saw him hand several coins over to the guard, and she thought she saw the glint of a gold guinea.

The odor was putrid. Sirena was assaulted by the stench of rotting fruit and human waste. Down the dark passage Stephan led her, the smell becoming more fetid with each step. The guard stopped to lift his neck cloth over his mouth and nostrils. When he saw the expression on Sirena's face, he laughed coarsely. “You'll soon get used to it.”

As they descended into the bowels of Bedlam, the stories she had heard about the place accosted her mind. She heard that if the lunatics became too quiet, retreating into a world of their own, the guards would tease, starve, prod and abuse them until they were unmanageable. Only in a wild, tormented state would they draw a paying audience of peasants and gentlefolk who came to sightsee.

As Stephan held her tightly by the arm, Sirena came to believe every rumor she had ever heard about the infamous Bedlam. She heard the shrieks and moans of the patients. The gruntings, growlings, ravings, rantings were awful, but worst of all was the deadly silence of some of the cells they passed. In these cells the poor creatures sat, contaminated by their own filth; vacant-eyed hollow shells of people who used to live within healthy bodies.

As she was led past a tiny, thin window cut into the stone wall, Sirena realized they were going even further below ground. The smells were even more acrid and horrible, if that was possible. The stench made the air rank, pinching her nostrils and causing her to choke for breath.

“How do you like it here, darling?” When Stephan received no answer, he continued. “No one likes it at first, but some learn to live very well here. Provided, of course, they have someone on the outside to insure they are cared for by supplementing the guards' income.”

Sirena was silent, closing her eyes against the cubicles on either side of her, keeping her gaze straight ahead, dreading each step she took.

Stephan veered off to the right, dragging her with him. “This way, Sirena. There's something I want you to see.” Down the corridor and through double bolted doors, which the guard opened, Sirena stood in the entrance to a high-ceilinged room furnished with peculiar-looking items. At first her befuddled mind couldn't conceive any use for them, but then as Stephan pointed out several fine points—leather straps, canvas jackets, muffs and handcuffs, chains and dousing buckets—she felt herself retch.

A chair, solid and built low to the floor, was equipped with manacles and straps to tie the victim firmly. Thankfully, none of these torture devices was in use, but as Stephan described them, Sirena realized he had come to see their effect on some human wretch.

Unable to stand it another moment, Sirena pleaded, “Please, can we go now?”

“Go?” Stephan asked, taking his pocket watch from his waistcoat. “Yes, it is time to go. Guard!”

Gratefully, Sirena stayed close to Stephan, trying to hurry his steps.

“There is something else I thought would interest you. It is over here,” he said, pulling her arm. “Come.”

Unwillingly, Sirena followed, hoping that if she gave him no resistance he would take her out of here. They stopped before a dank cell. “This is where the first Lady Langdon spent her last days.” His eyes pierced hers for a reaction.

Suddenly, his hands were clasped around her wrists, holding her firmly. Before she realized what was happening, the guard's key was clanging against the iron bars. “Stephan! No! Stephan, you can't! Stephan, please!” she shrieked.

Her cries resounded throughout the cell block, stirring the inmates and causing them to echo her screams. “This is madness! Stephan!”

Rough hands threw her into the blackness at the rear of the cell. Before she could recover her footing, the door shut with a clank of finality, and the last thing she saw was Stephan's face before he sauntered away.

In one section of the cell straw matting rustled, and when Sirena's eyes became accustomed to the dark she realized she had been placed with three other prisoners. There was no telling how long these women had been confined, but from the looks of them she ventured to guess it had been quite some time since they had seen the light of day or had a breath of fresh air.

They were emaciated creatures, bathed in their own filth, ragged and pest-ridden. Her flesh crawled and she prayed that she would be removed immediately or else lose her mind in short order. They watched her shrewdly, and one of them began to laugh shrilly, cowering in the corner like a primitive animal as she scrutinized Sirena with hate-filled eyes.

Sirena backed away, taking up a position in the single unoccupied corner. The dim light cast by the torch in the corridor allowed her to survey the surroundings; stone walls sweating with the damp, dirt floor strewn with filth and excreta, and a moldy hay heap, soaked with urine that served as a bed. Pitifully, she wondered how long it would be before she, too, succumbed to these conditions. Every nerve in her body was taut.

Without warning, she was jumped upon and had her thin capelet seized. Another inmate, apparently the oldest, knocked the wind from Sirena in addition to stripping the slippers from her feet.

The third followed her cellmates' example and tore at Sirena's gown, ripping it from her shoulders, while emitting half-human sounds.

Sirena tensed and stood her ground and, as if by some unspoken command or understanding, they all came at her together. She found herself fighting for her life.

They scratched and beat her, and pulled her hair. She swung, cracking one of them hard on the head. The inmate whimpered like a whipped dog and skulked away. But, the other two persisted. Sirena swung out again, knocking another of them backward, hearing the breath escape in a loud whoosh. The last, being denied the protection of her cellmates, merely retreated. Sirena stood in the center of the cell, glaring at them, ready to defend herself further if need be.

Silently, she advanced on each in turn, taking back the garments they had ripped from her. They made no protest, seeming to respect her strength. Sirena supposed they had not expected to find that she was stronger than they. She only hoped they wouldn't try to overpower her again.

It was many hours later when the wardens brought slops and water. Sirena could hear the banging of the small grids through which stale bread, soaked in an unidentifiable gravy, and wooden mugs of water were passed. Sirena's companions had also heard the commotion the meal hour had created and, even as she watched them, they slavered in expectation of their ration.

Hour after hour Sirena huddled against a wall, not daring to sleep or move lest she incite another assault. A sole desire burned through Sirena's being—to get out of this lunatic asylum and run as far away as possible.

Again the guards delivered rations. Again, came howls and shrieks, and the awful sound of iron scraping against iron. When she saw the bowls of thin gruel passed to her cellmates, she realized it must be morning. She had spent the entire day and night staring into the dark, her eyes constantly returning to the dim flare of the torch in the corridor. Her body ached; chills racked her spine and still she sat, quietly, silently, praying for a divine miracle to release her from this place.

Wondering how Stephan explained her absence to Frau Holtz, Sirena realized with a feeble ray of hope that Stephan could not leave her here. He could not! The sightseers! Instantly, she calculated on her fingers. Tomorrow was Saturday! Curiosity-seekers would be coming to pay their ha'penny. Surely, someone would recognize her. Surely, she could promise to pay someone to bring a message to Frau Holtz. Jan and Willem! They would get her out! Somehow they must!

Then a fatal tremor of fear shook her. Why should anyone believe her when she told them who she was? They would see she was locked in an asylum for the insane! It was hopeless!

Sirena shut her eyes, sensing the three madwomen were watching her, waiting for their chance to attack again and steal her clothing—strip her naked if possible. She did not care. Nothing mattered. Let them kill her. Death would be a welcome visitor compared to living out the rest of her days in Bedlam.

When the key sounded in the lock, she did not even hear it. Suddenly, a bright light blinded her, and strong hands gripped her arms, pulling her to her feet. A voice she recognized and would hate for the rest of her life spoke. “Have you had enough, Sirena, darling? Will you come home and be a good, obedient, little wife or shall I leave you here for another day or so?”