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Authors: May McGoldrick

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Ghost of the Thames (9 page)

BOOK: Ghost of the Thames
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When Sophy reached her, she tried to
touch the visitor. As before, her hand passed through, and the cold
that enveloped her fingers was completely at odds with the
apparition’s golden glow.

“You need to come with me.”

“To rescue more women who are like
me?”

“To save those who are in
danger.”

“There are too many of them.” Sophy
planted her feet, refusing to move as the ghost stepped back. She
remembered the numbers that Captain Seymour had quoted of the women
who made their living selling their bodies on the streets of
London. “I could not even provide shelter to the few I was able to
help last time. It is a hopeless cause.”

“Those women you helped would not
agree with you.”

Sophy refused to follow. “No! I am not
coming. What I can do is minute, it’s unimportant. What I can do
will make no difference.”

She gasped as suddenly the
ghost swept toward her. In an instant, the apparition walked
directly
into
Sophy, surrounding her and at the same time filling her.
Sophy felt icy fingers thrust into her limbs, chilling her with a
sense of loss, desperation, grief.

Visions flashed in her mind’s eye.
Women and children dressed in rags, chained together in a belly of
a ship, crying out for help. She was looking down at them through
an open hatch. Their heads had been shaven of every last strand of
hair. Instinctively, Sophy tried to go to them, but a cloak thrown
over her shoulders was too heavy. She tried to take a step forward,
but the weight of the garment was crushing her, body and soul. The
cloak felt like it was a thousand pounds, buckling her legs. She
looked down at the garment. It was made of gold. Pure gold…and
woven from hair. She knew immediately; it was the hair of the
captives chained below.

Sophy looked up in horror. A sea wind
was stinging her face. She could taste the salt on the air. The
ghost was standing in front of her on the deck of the ship. Her
wrists were shackled together, and she held them out in front of
her.

“Will you come with me?”

The woman took a step back and
suddenly they were separate entities, standing in the darkness of
the yard.

Until that moment, Sophy had forgotten
how to breathe. The image of the captive souls burned in her brain.
She could still feel the crushing weight of the cloak. She somehow
had to shed the weight of it.

She had no idea where this would lead.
Leaving right now might mean never being welcomed back to Urania
Cottage. But there was no longer a choice.

She took one step, glanced briefly at
the house, and then followed her guide out of the yard.

The neighborhoods they passed through
were quiet, with few people on the street and only a rare carriage.
An occasional breeze cut through her damp clothes. She had no money
and no idea how far they were to go or what awaited her at their
destination.

Sophy was surprised when the ghost led
her into a neighborhood of large homes, many surrounded by walls
and gardens. The sound of music and laughter soon reached her ears.
They turned a corner, and she was even more surprised to see a wide
street filled with carriages and well-dressed people on foot. They
eventually reached the source of the festivities, a large garden
with a double gate opening onto the street. She peered in. At the
end of a broad cobblestone plaza, steps led up to a circular
platform, lit by torches and strings of colorful, hanging lanterns.
People were waltzing drunkenly to the music of a small orchestra.
Hundreds of partiers crowded the dance floor and area surrounding
it. At least as many waiters circulated with trays of food and
drink. Her guide approached the gate and entered. Sophy
followed.

Just inside, a tall, burly man grabbed
Sophy’s arm, stopping her. “’Ere now. Not so fast, doll. A shilling
to go in.”

She shook off his hand and took a step
back, watching the ghost disappear down one of a dozen shadowy
lanes—laid out like the spokes of a wheel—radiating from the
central dance floor.

“What is this place?” she
asked.


Cremorne Gardens,” the
man muttered, looking at her curiously. “Been playing in the dirt,
doll?”

“And what part of London am I in
now?”

“What are ye trying to pull? Did ye
just drop out of the sky?”

“No. I . . . I’m lost, that’s
all.”

“Ye’re in Chelsea,” he said, grabbing
her arm more roughly this time. “But ye are a pretty thing. Ye
trying to say ye don’t work this place, normal?”

“Work this place?” She couldn’t free
herself.

“Who’s your bully, doll?”

She stared at him. “Bully?”

“Yer fancy man.”

“I have no fancy man.”

“All the girls in the Garden are run
by Jack Slade, and he don’t take kindly to dolly mops horning
in.”

“But I need to get in.”

“Do ye, now? Well, if ye clean yerself
up, and show yerself to Jack, maybe he’ll find a spot for ye.” With
a leer, the brute pulled her close and took hold of both of her
buttocks in one huge hand. “But first, let’s see what ye got. Why,
just maybe I have a spot for—“

Sophy delivered a sharp kick to the
man’s shin, hard enough to allow herself to break free. Staggering
back, she started to turn when another set of hands locked onto her
from behind.

“Well, Trencher, what do we have
here?” The man’s breath reeked of liquor and onion, and his
unshaven face was braced against hers.

Sophy quivered in disgust. She
struggled against him, but couldn’t get loose.

“Watch ’er, Jack. She’s a wild ’un.
Just showed up at the gate, claiming she don't know nothing about
the Gardens. Says she’s got no bully.”

“No bully, you say?” Jack pulled her
tight against his body. “How’s that, love?”

“I say she’s for your taking, Jack,”
Trencher put in.

“Let me go,” Sophy cried out. There
was no sign of her ghost guide. Why had she led Sophy into
this?

Just then, a loud bell rang through
the grounds. A crier was circulating and shouting, “Five minutes to
closing.”

Her attacker’s hands were like steel
bands on her arms, and he continued to hold her as couples and
groups of people began to stream out. Sophy started to cry out to
them, but Jack began to shake her like a rag doll, and the partiers
simply gawked and laughed and pointed at her as they
passed.

He stopped and put his lips close to
her ear. “If you don’t shut your gob, love, I’m going to put you
down on these bricks and step on your pretty face. Am I making
myself clear?”

A group of at least a dozen extremely
intoxicated men and women came staggering toward the exit. The men
appeared to be from various walks of life, but most were
well-dressed. The women were laughing loudly, and their painted
faces and satin dresses revealing their profession.

“Good night to you, Jack Slade,” a
gentleman called out over the noise.

“Will there be fireworks tomorrow
night, Jack?” another asked.

The devil holding her seemed to be in
charge of the festivities, as many partiers addressed him by name
and everyone continued to ignore her evident captivity. When an
older gentleman came over and held out a card to Jack, the pimp let
go of her with one hand and took it. As soon as he did, she tried
to wriggle free. His fingers clamped down harder though, digging
into her flesh.

“Stop,” she cried. “You’re hurting
me!”

The gentleman looked at her in
surprise. “Send someone . . . er, not so spirited, eh, Jack?” he
said, moving off.

Before he got more than a step away
though, a clearly inebriated woman staggered toward them. Careening
off the old gentleman, she drove him directly into Jack before
falling against Sophy.

Sophy struggled to keep her balance
while the woman clung to her for a moment. As Sophy instinctively
grasped the woman’s outstretched arms, she felt the handle of a
small knife pushed into her hand.

“Get ’im for all of us,” the woman
whispered, quickly straightening and staring unsteadily at
Jack.

“Shove off, Ellie, you
slut. Go and
earn
your gin for a change.”

Without another glance at Sophy, the
woman turned and staggered off toward a trio of men who were
enjoying the show from a few paces off. When she reached them, they
welcomed her into their midst with a drunken cheer.

Sophy slid the knife furtively up her
sleeve. She focused more on the faces of the women leaving the
park. Under the painted cheeks and lips, behind the loud coarse
laughter, many of these women, she realized, were very young—some
barely more then children. She also began to notice the sympathetic
glances directed toward her.

Soon, the crowds thinned and the
carriages began to pull away, clearing the street. Sophy’s blood
ran cold as Jack put one arm around her, squeezing her breast as he
pulled her tightly against him.

“Now we have time to do a little
business, eh, love?”

“No!” Sophy pleaded. “Please let me
go.”

She could feel a pronounced bulge
pressing against her bottom. He seemed to become rougher and more
determined as she struggled more. “Keep it on, love. This is
exactly what I needed tonight.”

Trencher appeared and lumbered over to
them. He patted a pocket of his jacket. “Don’t forget, Jack. Ye got
to pay up with Shill tonight.”

Jack looked at the brute with obvious
annoyance. “Shill gets what’s coming to him on time. I’ve got
something I need first.”

Jack began to drag Sophy, struggling
all the time, toward a shadowy, tree-lined lane that led off the
plaza inside the gate.

Trencher was grinning at the sight
with enjoyment. “Ye want me to—?”

”Wait for me,” Jack snapped, yanking
Sophy into the darkness past the first line of trees.

He was much stronger than she was. Her
mind raced, knowing that she would only have one chance to get
free.

A dozen steps more and he slung her
down onto a wet grassy opening, immediately sitting on her and
tugging at the buttons of his pants.

Everything was moving too
quickly.

“Wait,” she said. “You’ve got this all
wrong.”

“You wait, love,” he growled. “And you
just tell me in a minute if I got anything wrong.”

Sophy bucked and turned, managing to
slide the knife out of her sleeve and get a good grip on the
handle.

He grabbed her by the arm and wrenched
her onto her back. Leaning forward, he jammed his forearm up
against her throat, choking her as he yanked at her skirts with the
other hand.

“I enjoy a wild one, now and again,”
he said, his voice raw with anticipation. “I’m going to enjoy this,
I am.”

He forced her knees open and shoved
himself into position between her legs, and she saw a flash of
animal wildness in his face.

Lifting the knife, she jabbed it hard
into his side and felt him stiffen as the blade slid deep between
his ribs.

 

CHAPTER 10

 

 

“One of the servants found her
crouching by the kitchen entrance when he unlocked it, Captain.”
Reeves helped Edward with the shirt and coat his master was yanking
on. “Covered in dirt from head to toe, I must say, and the young
woman refuses to come inside. Something about her stopped our lad
from running her off."

“He would have had his hands full, if
he’d tried,” Edward replied.

“She wouldn’t answer any of Mrs.
Perkins questions, but she’s clearly no guttersnipe, if I may say
so. She simply asked that a message be brought up to you that
‘Sophy is here’ and that she wishes to speak with you. She claims
you know her, sir.”

"How long did you say she's been
waiting?"

“We don't know, Captain. Mrs. Perkins
said the young woman was shivering like a leaf when she went out to
her. Naturally, she took a blanket out to her.”

Edward hurried out of his dressing
room with Reeves on his heels.

“Seeing your reaction, Captain, I am
quite relieved that we didn’t wait to awaken you.”

“Yes. Good decision,
Reeves.”

“Would she be connected in any way
with Miss Amelia’s disappearance, sir?”

“No,” Edward replied curtly, going
down the steps two at a time and moving quickly through to the back
of the house. His long strides left the butler trailing
behind.

The mystery of Sophy’s past and her
lost memory were far too complicated for him to even venture a
guess what brought her to his door during the night. As he entered
the kitchen wing, the clock behind him chimed six. No matter what
happened, he knew that the matron at Urania Cottage would not dare
to put Sophy on the street before first sending him a
message.

The buzzing voices of the servants
gathered in the kitchen went silent when they saw Edward stride in.
Quick curtsies and bows all around, and in an instant the
housekeeper was beside him as he moved to the door.

BOOK: Ghost of the Thames
3.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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