Song Of The Nightingale (DeWinter's Song 1) (12 page)

15

Accompanied by three outriders dressed in rich livery, the crested coach and six easily maneuvered through the narrow, bustling London streets.

When the coach stopped in front of Newgate, the two guards posted there watched with startled interest as a servant lowered the steps and held the door while a man descended. It was obvious from the man’s manner of dress that he was someone of great importance. He looked neither to the left, nor to the right, as he entered the dreary halls of Newgate Prison.

With purposeful steps, Raile walked to the warden’s office, Oliver one step behind.

When they entered the small dingy room, Raile approached the man at the desk. “I will speak to the warden at once,” he said, removing his leather gloves and slapping them impatiently against his thigh.

“Are you expected, sir?” the man asked as he peered over a pile of legal-looking documents.

“Get the warden,” Oliver intervened with a haughty manner. “And be so good as to inform him that the duke of Ravenworth wishes to talk to him in private. Be quick about it. His grace does not like to be kept waiting.”

The little man scrambled to his feet, knocking over his chair in his haste to reach the inner office. “Yes, your grace,” he called over his shoulder. “I’m certain Mr. Clarence will see you at once.”

For two days Kassidy had not roused from her mattress. She could no longer tolerate the putrid gruel. She refused to eat when Elspeth tried to force it between her clenched teeth.

The other inmates had been taken for their daily exercise, but Elspeth had refused to leave Kassidy. Sadly, the Irish girl shook her head, knowing her charge would probably not last through the week.

When she heard a key grate in the lock and looked up to see the warden and two other men enter, Elspeth stared at them in bewilderment. It wasn’t often that the warden himself visited the cells, and she wondered why he was there. As for the other men, one she dismissed as a servant, though a grand one, but the third man made her scramble to her feet. He was handsome and had about him an imperious air. His gaze swept past Elspeth to Kassidy, who was huddled on the mattress. Elspeth watched those dark eyes as they narrowed in anger, and then she saw them soften with pity.

Raile dropped down beside Kassidy, appalled at how thin and haggard she looked. Her blond hair was matted and filthy. He raised her limp hand and found that it was hot to the touch.

“She’s ill,” he said, looking accusingly at the warden. “I’m taking her out of here now.”

“Yes, your grace. I don’t know how this could have happened. I hope you don’t blame me. If the plight had been called to my attention, I assure you- “

Raile silenced the man with a hard glance. “I suggest you make certain such an atrocity does not happen in the future, Mr. Clarence. I am going to arrange for an investigation into certain criminal activities that are being conducted from here. As for Miss Maragon, I would be worried if I were you. If I told you the name of her uncle, you would tremble in fear, because he’s an influential member of Parliament. If he so desires, he can cause you great trouble.”

The warden’s eyes filled with dread. “I want only to cooperate with you, your grace. I’ll help in any way I can to make certain this doesn’t happen again.”

To Kassidy, everything was a blur. When she could focus, she saw the face of the man she hated most in the world.

“No,” she moaned. “Not another nightmare. Don’t touch me. I’m frightened of you. Go away—go away.”

Elspeth tapped the duke on the shoulder. “Be you responsible for this?” She pointed a bony finger at Kassidy. “She’s a good one and deserves better.”

Raile scooped Kassidy up in his arms and peered down at the girl whose eyes bore into him. “She will come to no harm from me.”

“She better not, or I’ll find you when I’m out of here—and I get out soon.”

The warden shoved Elspeth back against the bars.

“Here, now, don’t you be bothering his grace. Get on out with the others and take your exercise.”

Elspeth edged toward the door. “I’ll go, but you best heed my warning. I know who you are, and I’ll hunt you down if you hurt her.” With a last look at Kassidy, she darted through the door and down the corridor.

Kassidy wasn’t certain if she was dreaming. But if she was, she wanted to awaken. Fearfully, she reached out and touched Raile’s face. This was no dream. He was real. What new torture had he in mind for her? she wondered in desperation.

She was too weak to fight him. Let him do what he would with her, she was just too weary to care.

Raile saw the fear in Kassidy’s eyes and wished there was some way he could reassure her that he had come to help her.

“It’s all right,” he said soothingly. “I’m taking you out of here.”

Her eyes blinked. She tried to move out of his arms, but he held her fast. When he enfolded her in his cloak, she wondered if he wanted to smother her.

“No, please don’t hurt me anymore,” she whispered through parched lips. “Just... let me die.”

Raile felt his heart contract. “You are safe now, Miss Maragon. Please put your trust in me.”

Closing her eyes, Kassidy went limp in his arms.

All through the long day Kassidy dwelled in a nightmarish world of pain and torment. She knew she was no longer in Newgate, but where was she? Wherever it was, she was being tortured.

Forceful voices urged her to roll over, and her gown was stripped over her head. Someone was bathing her in cool water, while she shivered with cold. She was then dressed in a fresh gown and forced to use energy she did not possess. She only wanted to be left alone to die.

Once, there was a man hovering over her, spooning foul-tasting liquid into her mouth. She was sure she was being poisoned, or they were drugging her once more.

At times she wished herself back in Newgate where she wouldn’t be poked and prodded and no one would demand she awaken from her dreamworld.

Kassidy would have been much more frightened had she known that she had been brought to the duke of Ravenworth’s town house.

Since Lady Mary was away from London searching for her niece, Raile was trying to get word to her. In the meantime, he had assumed responsibility for Kassidy and installed her in his town house. He sent for Dr. Worthington.

Raile stood outside her bedroom, feeling helpless. In anger, he moved to the stairs, ready to confront Lavinia and Hugh.

He burst into the dining room, his face a mask of fury. “I asked you both here for a reason. Come to my study at once,” he demanded.

Lavinia took a sip from her wineglass and studied his face. “What can be so important that we must interrupt our meal? Has it to do with Doctor Worthington being here?”

Hugh noticed the dangerous glint in Raile’s eyes. “Perhaps we should do as he says, Mother.”

“Unless you want the servants to know about family matters, I suggest you both come with me now,” Raile ground out. Without another word, he spun on his heels and left the room. Lavinia placed her napkin on the table and slid her chair back. There was speculation in her eyes. “Come, Hugh, let us see what’s plaguing Raile tonight.” Her voice was laced with sarcasm. “I’m sure it won’t be a pleasant encounter.”

“Raile,” she announced airily, settling herself in a leather chair in the study, “have you no better manners than to—“

“I have not called you here for a lesson in manners, madame.” His voice was controlled, but his eyes showed his leashed anger.

“Then what do you want?” Hugh asked, picking up an antique snuffbox and examining it lazily.

Raile stood before his brother. “What would you say if I told you I have talked to Jack Beale?”

Hugh shrugged. “Then I would ask you, who the hell is Jack Beale?”

Raile was relieved. He believed his brother. Hugh had never been able to hide his feelings. It was obvious he knew nothing about his mother’s dealings with Jack Beale.

Raile turned his attention to his stepmother, who was tightly gripping the arm of the chair, her face white, her eyes veiled. “And you, Lavinia.” He moved to stand over her. “Would you say the same? Do you know Jack Beale?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Raile. Is there something you are accusing me of?”

“I already know of your guilt, Lavinia. I have proof that you had Miss Maragon abducted and placed in Newgate.”

Lavinia was shocked for a moment, but only because she hadn’t known that the Maragon girl still lived.

She managed to answer Raile in an even voice and state quite honestly: “I know nothing about Miss Maragon being in Newgate.”

“What’s this?” Hugh asked in amazement. “Abigail’s in Newgate?”

Lavinia came to her feet and walked to the desk, where she ran her fingers over the smooth surface. “I did not have anyone taken to Newgate, Raile,” she repeated. “But make no mistake about this, my son will not be tied to that woman.”

“Madame, I have learned about your little scheme to be rid of Miss Maragon.” His words were clipped as if he were barely holding onto his temper. “You could have saved yourself so much trouble. You see, you had the wrong girl.”

She stared at him with her mouth open—shock clearly written on her face. “What are you saying?”

“It’s true, Lavinia.” His eyes hardened like stones. “We all supposed the girl who came to Ravenworth Castle was Abigail Maragon, when in truth, Abigail died in childbirth. The one I met was her sister, Kassidy Maragon.”

Hugh’s face whitened. “Abigail’s dead?”

“Yes, Hugh, she’s dead,” Raile said, feeling revulsion for Hugh and his mother. “You left Abigail Maragon to bear your child alone and she died. I hope you realize that what you did to her was reprehensible.”

Lavinia linked her arm through Hugh’s. “He did nothing, Raile, and I won’t allow you to blame him. It was the girl’s frivolous actions that caused her death.”

Hugh shook his mother’s hand off his arm and walked to the window, where he stood staring out. “She died, and I never knew it. I loved Abigail,” he murmured, knowing he meant it. There was an emptiness in his heart, and he wanted to be alone, to think about the peaceful days he had spent with his wife in the cottage beside the river.

“The time for lamenting has passed, Hugh,” Raile said harshly. “You should have been there while she was alive.”

For the first time in Hugh’s life, he felt ashamed. “I never meant to leave her.”

“As for you, madame,” Raile said, turning back to Lavinia. “You had better pray that Kassidy Maragon doesn’t die as a result of your actions. Make no mistake about it, if she does, I’ll turn you over to the magistrate. And should she survive and wish to see you punished, I’ll see that you are. In such case, the DeWinter name will not save you.”

Lavinia saw the contempt in Raile’s eyes and trembled with fear. He did not make idle threats. If he said he would turn her over to the magistrate, he would. “You can’t prove I did anything wrong,” she said defiantly.

“Oh, but I can, Lavinia. You and I are not the only ones who know about your part in all this.”

“You go too far, Raile,” Hugh exploded. “I know you hate my mother, but to suggest she would harm someone .. .”

Raile sneered. “Ask your mother about the midnight trip to the nursery where your daughter lay, and then tell me she wouldn’t harm a total stranger.”

Hugh looked uncertain. “I don’t believe you,” he said at last, but there was no conviction in his voice.

Raile smiled without humor. “I would believe anything of her, Hugh. You just haven’t stood in her way when she wants something—and I pray you never do.”

Lavinia’s eyes narrowed. “I would fight you and the whole world to save my son, no matter what you say.”

“But who, madame, will save your son from you?”

Lavinia’s eyes blazed her hatred for Raile.

“Enough,” he said, when she would have spoken. “I will hear no more of your lies. You and Hugh will vacate my home no later than tomorrow. I will no longer abide either of you living under my roof.”

“Are you sending us back to the country?” Hugh asked, not wanting to leave London.

“Where you go, Hugh, and what you do, is no longer any concern of mine. But you will not occupy any of my houses.”

Hugh looked confused. “Then where—“

Lavinia held up her hand to silence her son. “Surely you aren’t going to turn us out without any means of support.”

“Not at all. Hugh has his allowance and I have something for you.” Raile moved to his desk, opened a drawer, and counted out several stacks of coins. He held them out to Lavinia, and when she wouldn’t take them, dropped the money into her hand.

“One hundred pounds, madame. The amount you promised to pay Jack Beale.” His eyes bore into her. “I would not try to enlist Mr. Beale’s help again, Lavinia. You see, I bought his loyalty, and he will report only to me.”

Lavinia was bravest when she was cornered. “Surely you don’t expect me to live on this pittance,” she scoffed. She flung the money down, and it scattered across the floor. “I don’t need your charity, Raile.”