Redemption (13 page)

“Of
course I do but I shall leave the talking to you. I don’t think you
should go in here alone. Besides,” she grinned at her niece, “there
are a few things I know about him that will back him into a corner
if he objects to your demands.”

Lizzie’s
ears pricked up and she looked at her aunt with renewed respect and
intrigue. “Oh?”

Patty winked at her. “It was many years ago, but your mother
confided in me about some of his rather dubious exploits as a
youth; things that his father was quite eager to sweep under the
carpet, if you know what I mean. Let me tell you that if they got
out into society, even now, he would have every door within
the
ton
and
beyond slammed very firmly in his face. That is before we even
mention his treatment of you; his own family.”

“I don’t
want to go in,” Lizzie murmured as she watched a jailer walk toward
them through the bars in front of them. The rattle of his keys
sounded somewhat threatening and she looked worriedly at her aunt,
unsure for a moment whether she could actually go through with
it.

“It’s
too late to go back now, Lizzie. You are made of stronger stuff
than that,” Patty assured her. She placed a hand very firmly in the
middle of her niece’s back and propelled her forward when the
jailer opened the gate.

After a
brief moment of hesitation, Lizzie squared her shoulders and
followed Patty into the jail. In an effort to take her mind off
what she was about to do, she focused on Patty’s shoulders and
turned her attention to more mundane matters: like the change in
Patty since they had been in London. She had to wonder at the
difference in her relation since the house in Derbyshire had burned
down. Patty had not only come out of her shell, but the strange and
random acts of confusion she had displayed so eccentrically in
Derbyshire had vanished practically overnight. So suddenly in fact
that if Lizzie hadn’t lived through the worry of the bizarre
behaviour, and seen them unfold with her own eyes, she wouldn’t
have actually believed they had happened.

Unfortunately, the further they walked into the building the
less she was able to close out the stark confines surrounding her,
and her fear grew as they walked deeper and deeper into the jail.
The dark and dingy walls oozed menace and that was before she even
looked at the dirty faces that peered out longingly from behind the
bars.

Eventually, Lizzie sidled cautiously into the small cell at
the far end of the corridor. She stopped beside Patty and frowned
at the guard.

“He will
be here in a minute,” the uniformed man informed her dourly as he
pushed the cell door open and waved for them to enter.

Before
she could reply he left them to creep cautiously into the room. A
solitary candle was lit within but it did little to eradicate the
absorbing gloom. She cursed and jumped nervously when Patty closed
the door behind them, and the metallic sound of the protesting
hinges echoed hollowly around the hushed stone walls.

“Sorry,”
Patty murmured. “I don’t think this place has been maintained in a
long time.”

Lizzie
looked cautiously as she studied the dark walls. “How on earth can
anyone survive in a place like this?”

She
glanced around the small square space. Apart from a rickety table,
bracketed by two mismatched chairs, there was no other item of
furniture. The only light within came from a rather feeble wall
sconce which did little to penetrate the thickest shadows in the
corners of the room. She glanced toward the tiny portal that
revealed only the briefest hint of sky but, given it was raining
outside, little sunlight made its way in.

“It’s
freezing in here,” her aunt muttered. She tugged her shawl around
her shoulders and took a seat beside her with a shiver.

Lizzie
turned to look at her. “I don’t mind if you want to go outside and
warm up.”

“I am
not going anywhere,” Patty assured her. “Not until we have found
out what Julian wants in any case.”

“It’s
like entering the bowels of Hell, isn’t it?”

“It is
the bowels of Hell,” Patty groused. “And we will leave here not a
moment too soon as far as I am concerned.”

Lizzie
nodded. The thought of what she needed to do next left her feeling
a little shaky. She desperately wanted to walk out of the door and
not look back. However, the need to extract something out of the
horrible situation with her step-brother, and ease her own homeless
state at the same time, was too great to ignore.

“I don’t
think I ever really thanked you for taking me in,” Lizzie murmured
fervently knowing she had but desperate to say anything that would
take her mind off where they were. Not for the first time did she
wonder where she would have ended up if it hadn’t been for Patty’s
kindness. It could have been somewhere like this, or worse, the
debtors’ prison.

Patty
looked at her. “I think it was you who saved me,” she murmured
obliquely, and issued Lizzie with a warning look that said they
would discuss it later.

In that
moment they both became aware of the distant sound of approaching
footsteps.

“What do
you think he has done that demands you even visit a place like
this?”

“I don’t
know, Lizzie, but the quicker we get out of here the
better.”

“I
agree,” Lizzie sighed.

It wasn’t that she wanted to see her step-brother in
somewhere like this but, given his rather questionable behaviour,
she wasn’t surprised that he had ended up in such tawdry
circumstance. He had said that he had been arrested for her
suspected murder, but the last time she had checked she was most
definitely alive. There was no reason why anyone should consider
her dead. Had Julian lied in order to persuade her to return to
London? The fact that he
was
actually in jail though warned her that something
was desperately amiss.

The loud
clang of the lock on the door brought out the small hairs on the
back of her neck and she watched in dismay as her heavily manacled
step-brother shuffled awkwardly into the room. As he did so he
glared at her as though his presence there was all her fault before
he turned his baleful gaze on Patty.

“What
are you doing here?” he demanded rudely.

Patty
glared back defiantly. “I am here in support of your step-sister.
Sit down, you buffoon,” she snapped in disgust.

As if to
support her order, the guard shoved Julian roughly into the chair
opposite.

“Stay
there,” he growled and proceeded to alter Julian’s chains around so
he was tied to the table.

Lizzie’s
shoulders immediately straightened and she drew upon all of her
years of being forced to attend staid and pompous social
engagements to mask all trace of emotion from her face, and glare
at Julian just as accusingly as he was staring at Patty.

“I would
say that it is nice to see you again, but that would be a lie,”
Lizzie began, desperate to draw his scorn away from her
aunt.

“Nobody
wants to see Julian, dear,” Patty retorted. “That’s why he is here
and nobody has bothered to get him out.”

Lizzie
watched the guard move to the door. Rather than leave them alone,
he pushed the door closed and stood to one side, effectively
blocking the exit. The stare he levelled on Julian was almost
challenging, and went a heck of a long way toward assuring Lizzie
that she was safe. With Patty beside her, for the first time since
she had left for Derbyshire, Lizzie began to feel confident and
turned her attention to her step-brother with rather more sternness
than she really felt.

“What do
you want, Julian?” she asked, her brows lifted querulously. Before
he could answer, her gaze slid scornfully around the small room.
“You appear to have gotten yourself into trouble again.”

She
watched a muscle tick in his cheek and knew that he wanted to rant
at her. However this time it wasn’t lost on either of them that she
held all the cards. If he wanted her help he had to be civil or she
would leave and that would be that.

“It took
you long enough to get here,” Julian groused, clearly put out at
having been made to wait for her.

“I live
miles away. It took me some time to get here,” she replied,
completely unperturbed.

He
leaned forward. “I wrote to you several weeks ago,” he ground out.
“Where in the hell have you been? Scotland?”

“I have
a life to live.” Once again she glanced around the room. “A much
better life than yours it appears.”

“Shut
up,” he snarled.

“All
right,” Lizzie shrugged. “Let’s go, aunt.” She attempted to stand
up only for Julian to push to his feet.

“Sit
down,” the guard ordered briskly. “You’ll move when the ladies have
gone. Sit back down or I will take you back to your
cell.”

The man
accompanied the threat by quite pointedly placing his hand on the
baton he had strapped to his belt. Julian sighed but dutifully
slumped back into his chair, temporarily bereft of all
bluster.

“I think
you had better sit back down and listen to me, Lizzie, because what
I have to say involves you.”

Lizzie
refused to allow him to see just how unnerved his words made her.
There was something smug and self-satisfied in the way he was
smirking at her. It warned her that what he was about to say wasn’t
good and he almost relished the upset he would cause her. In that
moment she wondered why she had even bothered to travel from
Derbyshire for such a selfish creature and wondered whether she
should just spare herself and leave.

“How can
it involve me?” she asked coldly. “I haven’t seen or heard from you
for an age. Not since you threw me out of the Pendlebury, in
fact.”

“That
was a long time ago,” Julian countered darkly.

“Time that has not been kind to you it appears,” Lizzie
snapped. “Has the money run out now,
dear
step--brother? Is that why you
chose to suddenly remember the step-sister you couldn’t wait to
off-load several weeks ago? You didn’t care where I ended up back
then. Why should I bother about you now?”

“Because
what I have to tell you involves you Elizabeth, so I suggest you
shut up, and listen to what I have to say.” He turned cold eyes on
Patty. “I don’t care who you are, you have no business being here.
Please leave.”

“She
stays,” Lizzie countered placing a comforting hand on Patty’s. When
she looked at her aunt though, there wasn’t any hint of worry or
fear on her face. In fact, Patty’s face was almost malicious as she
glared across the table at Julian.

“Get on with it because
I
don’t have all day,” Patty snapped.

He
leaned back in his seat and studied the table blankly for a moment
as though he had completely forgotten what he had wanted her there
for. As the silence lengthened, Lizzie took a moment to study
him.

Her
childhood had been a happy one, right up until the moment her
mother remarried following her father’s death, and she was forced
to move into a new house to live with a new step-father, and
step-brother Julian. He had always been mean and spiteful, even as
a young boy in the nursery. Life after her move to Pendlebury House
had rapidly gone downhill. Although Lizzie’s relationship with her
step-father had been a good one, the same couldn’t be said about
her association with Julian, and it had blighted her youth. Over
the years, and especially after his father’s death, Julian had
matured into someone who would have been rather handsome; if he had
chosen a different pathway in life. The path he had chosen had
turned him into something mean and selfish, and that showed in his
lined face and heavy jowels.

Looking
at him now, the dark rims beneath his blood shot eyes were a
testament to how harsh life within the prison was and, when
accompanied with the sallow complexion that was testament to the
many hours he had spent drinking and gambling, he looked
considerably older, and far more haggard than his four and thirty
years.

“The
money has all gone,” he announced quietly. He didn’t appear
ashamed, just slightly regretful. The somewhat befuddled expression
on his face hinted that he had no idea where it had gone; it had
just simply run dry for some reason that was beyond his
understanding.

“What
money has gone?” She asked the question but knew that he meant he
had spent everything he had inherited from his father, and hers.
His next words confirmed it.

“The
money from the estate I inherited from father. It has
gone.”

“All of
it?” She shook her head when he nodded slowly. “You were given
thousands, Julian. You were handed thousands of pounds.” Her words
were ground out through teeth that were clenched with raw fury.
“You inherited estates worth thousands of pounds, the house in
Mayfair, and a veritable fortune in the bank. Do you mean to tell
me that you have spent the lot? All of it?” Her voice rose as she
spoke and her outrage grew.

“What I
do with my money is nothing to do with you,” he breathed in a voice
that dripped with cold disdain.