by Aston, Alexa
Dez stood. “We will do more than help Anna,” he promised. “If she is truly alive, we will move heaven and earth to bring her home.”
Chapter Eight
Dez said, “The first thing we need to do is find out where this Gollingham Asylum is.” He looked to Shelton.
The viscount shook his head. “I haven’t a clue, Torrington. The correspondence I received from Dr. Cheshire this morning is the first I had heard of the place. I tore apart my uncle’s study, trying to find any kind of documents related to having Anna committed and found nothing.”
“What of servants?” he asked Jessa. “Surely, one of them would know something.”
She looked at him helplessly. “I don’t know, Dez. It happened so long ago. A parlor maid or footman wouldn’t necessarily know anything. I asked Beauchamp, our butler, about it years ago, when I was eleven or twelve. He was retiring, being pensioned off. Beauchamp warned me sternly never to mention my sister’s name and that she was gone and dead.”
“Do you know where he is, Jessa?”
“In Draymott last I heard. His brother runs the local inn and tavern.”
Finally, a place to start.
“I will go into the village now and see if Beauchamp is still there and learn what he knows.”
“I will go with you,” Shelton said. “After all, Anna is my cousin.”
Jessa huffed. “You aren’t leaving me behind.”
“We shall all go,” proclaimed Lady Shelton, who had remained quiet throughout the discussion. “Two hotheaded men might not learn nearly as much as two ladies who practice politeness.”
Dez had to agree with the viscountess. At this point, he wanted to bash heads and murder someone if Anna had been taken to such a place.
“Very well. We will leave now.”
“Our carriage is already ready,” Shelton said. “We should take it.”
The four quit the drawing room and went to the viscount’s carriage for the short journey into Draymott. They seemed the longest three miles in Dez’s life. He wanted to hope beyond hope that Anna was alive but knew to temper his emotions. Jessa had been very young and might have misconstrued the events she saw. Still, the butler’s warning and the viscount himself announcing Anna’s death—with no grave—gave Dez pause for concern.
They reached the inn and went inside. He skimmed the room. It was early evening and several tables were occupied with people eating or drinking.
“That’s him. Beauchamp. In the corner.”
He looked to where Jessa indicated and saw a man in his early to mid-seventies, his hair white as he hunched over a bowl, shoveling food into his mouth.
She started toward the former butler but he caught her arm.
“We don’t wish to air anything in public. We must speak to him in private.”
“There is a room in the back,” she told him. “A private one for traveling parties coming through. We could use that.”
Dez looked to the viscount. “Talk to the innkeeper and see if we can use it. Grease his palm if necessary. And bring back a tankard of ale.”
Shelton nodded and moved to where the innkeeper stood behind the bar. He wiped his hands on a towel and, after a moment, nodded. Shelton handed over some coin and the owner poured a tankard and handed it to the nobleman.
Returning to them, he asked, “What is the tankard for?”
Dez took it. “Go to the back room. Beauchamp and I will join you shortly.”
The trio crossed the taproom without questioning him. He watched Beauchamp and saw the man look up—and the moment he recognized Jessa. He ducked his head and grew still, trying not to draw attention to himself as they passed by.
Once they were out of sight, Dez moved toward his quarry, who now visibly relaxed.
“Good evening, Beauchamp.” He placed the tankard on the table. “I have brought you some ale.”
Wariness sprang into the old man’s eyes. “Who are you?” he asked, his tone belligerent.
“Desmond Bretton. The Earl of Torrington.”
Beauchamp’s eyes widened. Whether in recognition of Dez himself or the title, he couldn’t say.
“I would like to speak with you privately. Stand. Pick up your drink. Accompany me.”
“Why should I?” the man asked defensively.
“Because if you don’t, I will break your jaw—and force you to speak to me anyway.”
Acceptance caused the former butler’s shoulders to sag. He stood and gripped the tankard, walking slowly to the back room. Dez followed, closing the door behind them once they arrived. He saw a large table with ten seats around it. Lord and Lady Shelton and Jessa were already seated. Beauchamp went and stood at the head of the table, where he tipped the tankard and downed its entire contents before setting it down and taking a seat.
Dez sat on the man’s right, across from the other three. Beauchamp’s gaze rested on the table.
“Tell us everything you know about Anna Browning,” he said, his tone brokering no nonsense. “What happened the day she was taken from Shelton Park. Where she is now.”
Beauchamp sighed. “I knew it would somehow come to this.” His eyes remained downcast as he continued. “His lordship returned with his daughter after she tried to elope. With you. She was locked in her room and Lord Shelton left for a day. When he returned, he had me summon two of our largest footmen to take Miss Browning to the carriage. I did as asked.”
“Did you know where she was being taken?”
The old man cleared his voice. “I had an idea, my lord. It was confirmed after the carriage left. Lord Shelton told me that disobedient, rebellious daughters needed to learn their place and that his daughter would learn her lesson at Gollingham.”
Dez gripped the table in order to keep from striking the man. “You knew she wasn’t mad. And yet you did nothing to stop things?”
Beauchamp met his gaze and defiantly asked, “What was I to do, my lord? I was a mere servant and Lord Shelton a powerful viscount. He exercised the rights he held over his own child. If I would have protested, I would have been tossed from the house without a reference. As it was, both footmen and the coachman who accompanied Miss Browning that day were let go within a month. I knew which side my bread was buttered on.” He shrugged. “Besides, she must have been mad to cross her father the way she did. Everyone knew what he was like. No one dared test Lord Shelton. If they did, they would suffer the consequences.”
Frustration filled him, knowing the man spoke the truth. No servant would ever stand up to his master, especially one as vindictive as the dead Shelton.
“Do you know where Gollingham is located?” he asked, his jaw tightening.
“Somewhere in Hampshire. Near Alton.” Beauchamp shook his head. “You know everything I do.”
Dez rose. His companions followed suit. They left the inn and waited to speak after the carriage started up.
“We must go now,” he declared. “I cannot let her stay another night in such a place.”
“No,” the viscount said. “We only have a vague idea at this point. It will be dark soon. Even if by some miracle we could find our way there, Torrington, they wouldn’t receive us in the middle of the night. It would be better to wait until daylight and leave. We will ask to speak to the physician in charge of the facility. As head of the Browning family, I am legally responsible for Cousin Anna. I am the one who can free her. If she is there.”
“She is,” insisted Jessa. “I feel it in my bones.”
“Very well,” Dez agreed. “We leave at first light. I will ride to Shelton Park and we can take your carriage.”
“I am going with you,” Jessa said stubbornly.
“No. You aren’t,” Lady Shelton said. She took Jessa’s hand. “It will be difficult enough for the two men to see Anna in these circumstances. You will wait with me. We will be strong for Anna once she returns.”
Tears welled in Jessa’s eyes. “I want to go—but I know you are right.”
“I am,” the viscoun
tess assured. She looked to her husband. “Even if they claim Anna is not there, you must find her. Tear down the place if necessary, Tom.”
“They won’t want her once they learn I am no longer willing to pay for her to be there,” her husband said. “I will take Cheshire’s letter and invoice. That is proof enough she is there.”
“Is it?” Dez asked, despair filling him. “Anna could be dead and this doctor might have continued sending his bills. I doubt Shelton went even once to visit his daughter.”
“We won’t know until we arrive,” the viscount said. “If she is there, we will bring her home.”
“Agreed,” he said, a silent prayer echoing in his mind that they would find Anna alive.
*
Dez sat across from Shelton, both their expressions grim. They had left Shelton Park as the sun broke the horizon, traveling west to Hampshire. In Alton, they stopped and discovered that Gollingham Asylum was a few miles southwest of their current location, just outside a small town called Grantham.
The carriage now slowed and he glanced out the window. They had reached Grantham. The driver knew to stop in the village so they could ascertain the asylum’s exact location and brought the carriage to the door of the local tavern. Dez sprang from the vehicle, Lord Shelton right behind him.
“We are close,” the viscount said. “We will find it. I am certain.”
They entered the tavern. It was deserted at this hour of the morning. A large man with a bald pate and dark eyes greeted them.
“My lords, what can I do for you? Have you worked up a bit of thirst on the road this morning? Perhaps I can bring you some ale and a bite to eat. Perhaps some bread and cheese?”
“No,” Dez said succinctly. “We seek information.”
He removed a guinea from his pocket and tossed it to the man, who caught it and stared at it in surprise.
“Yes, my lord?” he asked anxiously.
“We are looking for Gollingham Asylum and know it lies nearby.”
The man nodded sagely. “Have a lady need putting away, I assume.”
“Why would you say that?” he demanded.
The man shrugged. “That’s them who goes there. Ever since the Madhouses Act.”
“The what?”
“Parliament passed it. Must be a good thirty years or so now. They began regulating madhouses in London. It kept new ones from being established. That’s why the trade in lunacy sprang up. Private madhouses dot all of England now, my lord. Gollingham Asylum is but one of those which came into existence. Being outside of London, it can get around the law—if you know what I mean.”
Dez was afraid he did know. How that might affect Anna.
“Can you give us directions to it?”
“Of course.” The man grinned. “Anything for a guinea.”
The innkeeper told them and they had him repeat it once to make sure they wouldn’t get lost. Shelton passed along the instructions to his driver and they started up again. Nervous energy rippled through Dez.
He worried what they would find when they arrived at the asylum. That Anna had been there and was gone. Or worse—dead. If she were truly alive, he had to prepare himself. She would not be the Anna he knew. The girl he had known and loved years ago would have changed after being locked away from the world for a good dozen years. She would be angry at having been abandoned. Most likely hurt and withdrawn. He would need to go slowly.
Because if he did find her, he planned never to leave her again. She would become his countess. They would have the marriage they had sought so many years ago. They would raise the family they had talked about.
And they would find her father’s grave and spit on it.
“I think we’re close. Look.” Shelton pointed out the window.
Dez saw a large house. He swallowed, his mouth dry as if it had been stuffed with cotton. His heart began pounding. He urged himself to remain calm. Not to knock out the teeth of this Dr. Cheshire who had written, asking for his yearly sum to keep treating Anna.
His gaze met Shelton’s and both men nodded at one another, an unspoken agreement between them to save the woman they hoped would be found inside.
The carriage slowed and then stopped. He threw open the door and hurried toward the house, Shelton on his heels. Knocking on the door, Dez took a calming breath.
He was about to knock again when the door swung open. A servant wearing a surly expression glanced at them.
“No one’s expected.”
“We are here to see Dr. Cheshire,” Shelton said.
The man screwed up his face. “He might be in. I’ll see.”
Before he could close the door, Dez placed his foot over the threshold and said, “We will wait inside.”
The servant shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
He turned and walked away. Dez and Shelton stepped into a small foyer. The man disappeared and they stood there, an eerie silence blanketing them. His gut told him there was something very wrong with this place.
Then from a distance, a piercing scream erupted, sounding like a wounded animal whose leg had been caught within a trap in the forest. It chilled Dez to his soul. Abruptly, it ended and the silence grew.
Finally, the servant reappeared. “The doctor can see you now before he goes on his rounds. You got somebody you need put away?” he asked, sounding cheery.
“No,” Dez said flatly, tamping down his anger.
The servant walked away again and they followed him. He indicated a door and they entered without knocking.
The man he assumed to be Dr. Cheshire sat behind the desk. He was thin. Brown hair and brown eyes. Nondescript in every way. His lips twitched as they came to stand before him.
“Their names?” he asked in a tired tone, glancing at the servant.
“Uh, I forgot that part, Doctor.”
“Very well. You are dismissed. Go see if you can help upstairs.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
Dez waited for the servant to leave and then said, “I am the Earl of Torrington. My companion is the Viscount of Shelton.”
That got the little man’s attention. He sprang to his feet. “Shelton. I see. I suppose the viscount recently passed?”
“In February,” the new viscount said. “I received your statement regarding payment for my cousin. We are here to collect her.”
The physician began shaking his head furiously. “No, no, no, that wouldn’t be a good idea at all, my lord. Not at all.”
“Why not?” Dez challenged.
Cheshire glanced from him and back to Shelton. “The patient is very ill. You would not be able to control her in a home environment.”
“Control her?” he spat out, drawing the doctor’s attention again.
“Yes, my lord. Control in a precise word. The patient—”
“She has a name,” he said. “Miss Browning. Use it. I insist.”
“Oh, dear,” the doctor said and sighed. “This is very unorthodox. Patients just don’t . . . leave Gollingham. They are mad, you see. They may seem to have moments of lucidity but they are quite insane. Their behavior can deceive you. One minute they are completely mild-mannered. The next they are wild. You cannot let them fool you.”
“We aren’t talking about all of your patients. Just Miss Browning,” he emphasized. “I know for a fact she is not mad and has never been. Her father placed her here because she defied him.”
“Yes, yes, yes. I understand. Defiance is definitely a part of madness, especially in women. We see it frequently here.”
“I don’t care what you think you see. We are here to claim Miss Browning and take her to her home.”
The doctor crossed his arms. “I am afraid that is impossible. She is feral. Savage in her behavior. She goes for long spells where she is docile and then she erupts in violence. She cannot be controlled, certainly not by those who are not professionals.”
“You are telling me that man who just left us is a professional?” Shelton asked. “He looks after patients?”
“Enough talk,” Dez said. “Whether your agree or not—whether your professional opinion sways you one way or another—we are here for Miss Browning and won’t leave without her. I demand you take us to her now.”
“Very well. But I highly recommend that you hire professional help to watch over her. Frankly, I don’t know if you will make it half a league before she jumps from the carriage and dashes into the nearby forest. She is highly volatile. Full of rage.”
“There are two of us,” Shelton said. “And we both care for Miss Browning a great deal. We will be able to handle things.”
A knowing look came into the physician’s eyes as he looked upon Dez. “Ah. You are the man she tried to elope with.”
“You know of that?”
“Of course,” the doctor said. “It was the chief reason she was brought here. Defiance and rebelliousness are the main signs of insanity in females. A sane woman knows her place—and knows the men in her life know what is best for her. The very act of elopement goes against the obedience owed by a daughter to her father. Lord Shelton had every right to place his daughter under my care.”
“For over a decade?” he asked, his tone anguished. “What have you done in all of the years to cure her madness, Doctor? Her supposed madness. What?”
“We have our methods,” the man said. “The public wouldn’t begin to understand them.”
“Anna was a sweet, loving young woman. You tell me she is now violent and abusive. What have you done to her to turn her into someone such as that?”
“It was in her nature all along, Lord Torrington,” Cheshire insisted. “She is only showing her true nature.”
“I want her released. Now!”
“I second that,” the viscount said. “As the head of my family, Anna is my responsibility. I will not put another farthing in your pockets, Doctor. Take us to my cousin.”
