by Aston, Alexa
So, it was Billy who had revealed where he and Anna headed.
“Murtie told us everything.” Ham smiled triumphantly.
Murtie?
Vaguely, he remembered a parlor maid that might go by that name.
Ham continued, “She was sweet on that stupid footman. Told him he better tell Father what he knew else he’d lose his job.” His brother chortled. “They both did.”
“Enough, Hamilton,” their father commanded and Ham fell silent.
The trio rode that way all the way into London. The carriage stopped in front of the mews and they got out. The earl ordered Ham to give them privacy. Dez followed his father into the house, where Torrington ventured to his study. He ushered his younger son inside and closed the door before addressing him.
“This is a debacle,” the earl declared. “You have ruined our family’s reputation.”
“How?” Dez pressed, knowing at this point that he had nothing to lose. “The mail coach continued on the Great North Road, its passengers none the wiser since we never used our names. It is not as if anyone from Polite Society was on it.”
Torrington slapped him. It took everything Dez had not to return the slap. He stood stoically, his face stinging.
“Shelton is furious,” his father continued. “He claims you are the instigator of this fiasco, along with your sister, whom he called wild.”
“Dalinda had no part in this,” he protested.
The earl’s withering glance silenced Dez. “You would not have gone to such lengths without telling her what you planned. Don’t worry. She, too, will pay for her role in this debacle.”
Dez winced, sorry he had dragged Dalinda into the scheme. He should have known better. Known that Torrington would find out. That he would pursue him and Anna. Force them to return to London.
The earl glowered at Dez. “As for you, there will be no university. You will go straightaway into the army. I will have the commission purchased by tomorrow morning.”
“Go ahead,” he challenged. “Do it. I swear I will wed Anna when we are of legal age. She won’t care that I am a soldier.”
The earl harrumphed. “Shelton will marry off his chit by the end of the week to some doddering old fool that thinks he can get a child off her when he probably can’t even find his cock.” He paused. “You have shamed this family enough. Accept your fate.”
“This family?” he shouted. “We are not—nor have we ever been—family. You and Ham ignore Dalinda and me. There is no lost love on our part for the pair of you. Dalinda is my only family.”
The earl glowered. “I have already stated that I will handle your sister. As for you, the army will make you grow up. It will make a man of you. Break you down and build you back up. You are too much of a dreamer, Desmond, and always have been—else you never would have thought this foolish scheme to elope to Gretna Green would have worked.”
“I may be a fool for love but at least I know what it is,” he challenged. “I found Mama’s diary, you know. Three years ago. I read every last entry. She loathed you. She was probably glad she died in childbirth just to escape you.”
Torrington slapped him again and then called out. Two burly men rushed in and bound and gagged Dez before he even had a chance to fight back.
“Take him to his bedchamber,” the earl ordered and the pair dragged him from the room and up the stairs.
After flinging him on the floor, they left, heartily laughing. Dez couldn’t move. His hands were restrained behind his back, the circulation already cut off. His ankles were also tied together.
As the day passed and darkness came, he worried about Anna and what was happening to her. He prayed she would think of a way out of wedding Viscount Needham. Next to Dalinda, Dez knew Anna was the strongest, most resilient woman he knew. She would find a way, he told himself. She would wait for him. They would be together someday.
He had to believe that—or go mad.
Chapter Three
Anna stared morosely out the window, her stomach grumbling noisily. She had been locked in her room for two days now, given neither food nor water, and feared her father thought to starve her into submission.
The carriage ride back to Shelton Park had seemed an eternity as her mind whirled, wondering what would become of Dez. She had silently watched the English countryside as the miles passed as she felt her father’s intense stare upon her. She refused to acknowledge it or his presence. Finally, as they drove up the lane to Shelton Park, he had asked, “Will you wed Needham?”
“I would rather load my pockets down with stones and walk into the lake,” she’d snapped.
He had made no other comments and the carriage had pulled up in front of the house. Their butler, along with two footmen, met them. Usually, Jessa would have been present but Anna supposed her little sister had been forbidden to come and greet the wayward daughter.
“Take her to her rooms and lock her in,” the viscount commanded.
Anna had gone of her own free will and stepped inside the room she had thought never to enter again. The sound of the lock turning chilled her soul.
Nothing had happened since then. She had seen no one, not even the gardeners from her window. Heard no footsteps in front of her door. Hunger gnawed at her belly. She’d had no access to water to drink or wash. The chamber pot was almost full, the smell growing stronger by the hour. She had covered it with an old shawl and pushed it under her bed.
For the thousandth time, she wondered what had happened to Dez. How he was being punished. She knew a marriage between them would be impossible now. She also vowed never to wed the elderly Lord Needham. She would rather become a spinster than wife to that dried up, shriveled man.
The sound of the lock being turned drew her attention from the window and she held her breath, waiting to see who might appear at the door. Hope filled her heart as her mother entered, leaning heavily on her cane. Mama rarely left her rooms. She had suffered numerous miscarriages and two stillbirths between Anna and Jessa’s births.
“Mama!” she cried and ran toward her, throwing her arms about her.
The door closed and she heard the lock turn again. “Are you supposed to be here?”
Mama smoothed Anna’s hair. “Yes, dear. For only a few minutes, though. How are you?”
Through watery eyes, she replied. “Hungry.”
“I know. I am so sorry. Your father . . .” Her voice trailed off as she shook her head.
“Do you know anything about Dez?” she asked.
“No. Why would I?”
“I just thought you might have heard something. From the servants. They always seem to know everything.”
“No. You must forget about Desmond Bretton,” Mama cautioned.
“I know we can never marry,” she said glumly. “But I love him.”
Mama touched her cheek. “I know, dear girl. I had such high hopes of you marrying a nice young gentlemen.” Her mouth trembled. “Not like me.”
“Oh, Mama,” Anna said, embracing her mother again. “Were you forced to wed Papa?”
“Yes.” She shrugged. “It is the way of females, I suppose. We rarely are in control of our destinies.” Then her eyes welled with tears. “You will be going away, Anna.”
“Where? To wed Lord Needham.”
A knock sounded at the door. “It’s time, my lady.”
“Just two more minutes,” Mama shouted harshly.
The lock turned and the door swung open. Their butler appeared in the doorway, two large footmen behind. “No, my lady. Now.”
Anna looked to her mother, who said, “Go along with them, Anna.”
“Let me get my reticule,” she said weakly. “And if I’m to go to Lord Needham, I should at least change my gown.”
“That won’t be necessary, Anna,” her mother reassured her. “Just go along. Everything will be fine.”
But Anna saw the haunted look in her mother’s eyes. “You’re lying,” she accused. “No. I am not going anywhere until I know—”<
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“Bring her,” a voice ordered and she saw her father standing in the doorway.
Suddenly, Jessa dashed past him and ran to Anna, throwing her arms about her sister. “Don’t go, Anna,” she pleaded.
She absorbed Jessa’s warmth, drawing a small bit of comfort from it. Then she looked at the murderous look in her father’s eyes and pulled Jessa away.
Kneeling, she clasped her sister’s shoulders. “It’s all right, Jessa. Don’t worry.”
Then Anna rose and walked from the room. The two footmen latched on to her elbows and began dragging her quickly down the hallway. Suddenly, fear seized her, not knowing where she was being taken, and she began struggling. She fought and kicked the entire way down the stairs and across the corridor, where their stern housekeeper looked at her with pity before hurrying away.
The butler opened the door and she saw the carriage waiting. Anna broke free, dragging her nails against the face of one of the footmen. Blood sprouted on his cheek.
“Bind her,” her father said.
A cord appeared and one of the footmen wrapped it tightly about her wrists. She began screaming and saw her father nod. Quickly, a gag was placed over her mouth, silencing her shouts. Her fear now turned to panic as she was taken to the carriage.
Her father said, “This is what happens to disobedient daughters.” With that, he turned his back on her and entered the house again.
The footmen forced her into the carriage and slammed the door. The vehicle immediately began moving. She struggled, pulling on her wrists, which only made the cord tighten. Tears streamed down her face.
Where was she being taken?
The carriage rolled on for what she thought must be several hours until it began slowing. Anna’s heart beat wildly in her chest as it came to a halt. The door opened and she was removed from the vehicle.
“Had a bit o’ trouble with her?” a man asked, cackling.
“Some,” one of her father’s servants admitted.
“Wouldn’t be the first,” the man said, looking her up and down, making her flesh crawl. “Hand her over.”
She was shoved and then caught by the stranger, who latched on to her elbow and marched her inside a house. It had a small foyer and worn carpet. No paintings adorned the walls.
She tried to speak but the gag only made grunts come out. The man laughed again as he led her up the stairs. He sobered as they began walking down a long corridor. Anna heard screams in the distance and shivered.
Pausing before a door, he said, “Behave yourself with Matron,” and then pushed open the door.
A woman dressed in gray looked up from the desk where she worked. She had iron gray hair and a dull complexion. She could have been anywhere from forty to sixty.
“This the new one?” she asked.
“Yes, Matron.”
Anna could tell this man was afraid of the woman before her.
“Get the dress off her. Be quick about it but careful,” the woman warned. “You know I like to sell them.”
She was appalled that a stranger—and a man—would see her without her gown and she began struggling, trying to protest behind the gag.
The woman stepped to her and slapped Anna hard. Stars appeared in her vision. She had never been struck before and was dumbfounded by the pain.
“You’re not to speak. Is that understood?”
Anna blinked back tears and nodded.
“Good. You’re learning.”
The man pulled out a knife and cut the cord restraining her wrists. Immediately, the blood rushed through her, bringing pain. She bit back her gasp, afraid of being struck again, her hands and arms in agony as if hundreds of pins jabbed them.
Without speaking, she stood there as the man stripped her gown from her, handing it over to the woman called Matron. She folded it neatly.
Then he continued removing each of her undergarments. Anna stood there, her face burning in shame as he gave each one to the woman. He removed her shoes and stockings and she now stood bare, trying to cover her private parts as best she could, humiliation seeping through her.
“Leave,” Matron commanded.
The man scurried from the room and Matron removed Anna’s gag. Her raw mouth hurt from being stretched for so many hours. She tried to lick her lips and had no moisture to do so. Tears streamed down her face.
“You learn quickly,” Matron said, approval in her voice. “Most of the rebellious ones don’t.”
She longed to ask what that meant but held her tongue.
“Do you know where you are?”
Anna shook her head.
“Gollingham Asylum. A madhouse for the insane.”
Her jaw fell.
“Careful,” Matron warned.
She closed her mouth.
“You did something,” the older woman said. “Something that angered a man. Your father. Your husband. Your brother. Whoever was in charge of you. The madhouse used to be for those who were mad. Things changed,” Matron said, matter-of-factly. “When a man thinks his female is no longer controllable, that’s when we get them.”
Fear spread through Anna and she began trembling. Matron went and picked up a gray bundle.
“Put this on.”
Quickly, she unfolded the drab fabric and slipped it over her head. It was shapeless, short-sleeved, and hung to just below her knees. At least she didn’t feel quite so vulnerable now with something covering her.
“Do you have any questions?”
Afraid to speak, she shook her head vigorously.
“You may ask.”
“How long will I stay here?” she managed to get out.
Matron shrugged. “As long as you stay. Some women are retrieved after a few years.”
“Years?” she squeaked.
Matron’s gaze pierced Anna. “And some never leave.”
Panic filled her. Something told her she would never find her way from this place. She turned in circles, wide-eyed, not knowing where to run. She rushed to the door and flung it open. The man who had escorted her inside waited. She slammed the door on him and spun around.
“Do as you’re told when you’re told,” Matron advised. “It makes it go easier.”
“What am I to do?” she cried.
“Whatever I say,” An evil smile spread across the woman’s face. “Sit here.” Matron pointed to a chair.
Anna made herself walk toward it and lowered herself into it. Her thoughts swirled, making no sense. She knew she had to escape. The how and when would take time but she knew she would never survive in such a place.
Matron warned, “Don’t move,” and left the room.
It must be a test. She didn’t know if there was a way she could be watched, so Anna at perfectly still.
And waited.
The minutes passed. Then what must have been an hour. Then two. Finally, the door opened and Matron appeared with a slender man wearing fastidious clothes. Matron’s eyebrows raised slightly, seeing Anna in the same position, and she nodded in approval.
The man came forward. “Good afternoon, Miss Browning. I am Dr. Cheshire.”
Her eyes cut to Matron, who nodded permission to speak.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Cheshire. I must say I am not certain why I am here.”
He frowned deeply. “You are here because of your odd behavior, Miss Browning. Your father stated you have been erratic. Unpredictable. Volatile at times. You are here so we can help manage your mercurial moods and inconsistent behavior.”
“I have been none of those things,” she said. “May I speak candidly, Doctor?”
He nodded.
“My father wished me to wed a man more than four times my age. I was opposed to the idea. Bringing me here is his way of punishing me.”
“What of running away?” Cheshire challenged.
Anna took a deep breath. “I was leaving with my fiancé to be married. The man I wished to marry. One I grew up with and have known—and loved—for many years.”
The physi
cian shook his head and turned to Matron. “She is delusional, just as Lord Shelton said.” He glanced back at Anna. “There was no fiancé. No other man you loved. And as for your claim that your father was marrying you off to someone? Ridiculous.”
She shot to her feet. “No. I am telling you the truth, Dr. Cheshire. I don’t know what Father told you, but it was all lies.”
He looked back at his companion. She shrugged.
“Please,” Anna begged. “I do not belong here.”
Cheshire shook his head. “I am afraid, Miss Browning, you are exactly the person who should be contained in an asylum.”
“All because I disagreed with my father? Because I didn’t want to be chained to a man I didn’t know and could never love?”
“See? Even now, your voice rises with hysteria. You are quivering. Your body knows you are lying and is trying to tell you so.”
“I never lie!” she shouted. “Never. But my father does all the time.”
The doctor turned and opened the door. The man from before entered, accompanied by another one.
“You know what to do,” Cheshire said. “Matron.”
He hurried from the room as the two men started toward her.
“Don’t touch me!” Anna cried. “Don’t. I’ll scream.”
They both looked at one another and then burst out in laughter. Before she could try to move, they took hold of her, forcing her into the chair.
Matron approached, scissors in hand.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Cutting your hair. We don’t have time to care for it.” She snickered. “It will soon be covered in lice.”
As the men held her in place, Matron unpinned Anna’s hair. “How very pretty,” she remarked. “This will go for a good price, being such a unique color.”
She cringed as she heard the scissors and felt the pull against her scalp. In but a few minutes, Matron held long shanks of strawberry blond hair, placing them on a table. Mortification filled Anna, seeing the loss of her hair.
“Take her to the baths,” Matron commanded.
The men dragged her from the chair and across the room, down a dark hallway and into a cold room. They tied her to a chair, her wrists to the arms of it and her ankles to the chair’s legs. What followed was a nightmare as they doused her with dozens of buckets of freezing water. Her teeth chattered noisily as gooseflesh covered her body. At one point, she thought she might even drown.
