Color of Deception

by Ruth J. Hartman

  Chapter Nineteen

  After Kitty and her sisters returned from the bazaar, she gathered some scraps of ham left over from their supper and went out to feed the stray cats. Lately she’d seen two extra besides the three they normally had, so she made sure to take out more food.

  Glad to sneak out of the house unnoticed for a moment alone, she headed around to the back of the house.

  A rustling from the nearby bushes caught her attention. Those silly cats must have been napping there again. She chuckled. Or perhaps more was going on in there besides napping.

  Tossing the scraps beneath a large pine tree where the cats usually congregated to eat, she then opened her mouth to call out to them. “Here—”

  A hard hand clapped down over her mouth and a vice-like arm snaked around her middle. Help! What was happening? Fear wrapped its cold tentacles around her mind, her heart. What do they want with me? To rape me? Kill me? Kitty fought to struggle free, but whoever held her was too strong. She attempted to kick the person, using her heel, but was pulled too close to bring her leg out far enough.

  “Let’s put her in here,” a man with a low, raspy voice called from a few feet to her left.

  The person behind her gave an odd grunt and lifted her until her feet no longer touched the grass. Where were they taking her? Panic welled in her chest. Who were they? What did they want?

  Twilight had settled around the area, leaving most things shadowed in grey. Kitty was able to shift her focus to the man who had spoken, but the light was fading fast. All she could make out was that he was tall and had on dark clothing.

  She was half-dragged toward Robert’s old shed. Were they going to put her in there? It was rarely used anymore. The lock was probably rusted shut. Would her sisters think to look for her there?

  Two quick raps of something hard — A rock? — struck metal. The shed door opened with a creak. Had they broken the old lock to get inside?

  The closer she got to the shed, the more she fought. Please don’t do this. Don’t make me go in there! What was going to happen to her once she was inside? Did they mean to rape her? Kill her? Her insides froze. It couldn’t be happening. She was only a few hundred yards from the house.

  The smell of dust and disuse assailed her when her abductor pulled her through the narrow doorway.

  Please, no… Whatever they have in mind, don’t let them succeed.

  With a low grunt, the man gave her a shove. Her ankle twisted as she tripped over the wooden handle of some sort of gardening tool.

  Her chest heaved with panic and fear. When she dared a glance up, a large figure stood in the doorway, his shoulders so broad they nearly touched the sides of the frame. Where was the other one? The one who had held her and—

  A shuffle of boots on dirt came from her right. What was he going to do now? She tried to call out, but her voice wouldn’t cooperate. Help! Someone! Why couldn’t she form the words? Her mouth was so dry. She swallowed and tried again.

  Taking a deep breath, ready to shout at the top of her lungs, Kitty opened her mouth wide. Something soft — A piece of cloth? A handkerchief? — was stuffed in between her lips. A piece of rope was tied tightly, keeping the cloth in place. No! Now she wouldn’t even be able to call out. To get help.

  “Tie her up,” said the one from the doorway. He eased the door nearly all the way closed. Only a small shaft of wan light came through the crack.

  The man closest to her wrenched her arms together in front of her and tied a rough piece of rope around her wrists. Her eyes teared as the rope caused her skin to burn.

  “Now her feet.”

  This was her last chance to try to get free. She managed to get on her knees, hoping to climb to her feet and—

  “Oh no ya don’t.”

  She was shoved down again, hard, landing painfully on her left hip. She closed her eyes in frustration as her ankles were tied together.

  What now? Were they going to have their way with her? Ruin her?

  The man in the doorway said, “We’re running out of time. Question her.”

  Question me? About what? And how was she to speak with the blasted cloth in her mouth?

  The wad holding back her voice was taken out. Finally! She opened her mouth to scream, but it died in her throat. A cold, sharp blade of a knife now rested against her neck, just below her chin. They meant to kill her!

  “Go on, ask her.”

  The man holding the knife leaned down very close. His foul breath smelled of liquor, his body of filth. “Where is the money hidden?”

  Money? She frowned. What was he talking about?

  “Answer me.” A sharp spike of pain hit her neck and a trickle of something warm ran down her neck. Was she bleeding? Dear Lord… Help me!

  “Speak up, or I’ll finish the job.”

  She swallowed hard and tried to calm her racing heart. “W-we have no money.”

  “Stop lying. Tell us where it us.”

  “I’m not lying. We’re poor.”

  The man spat into the dirt, small wet flecks bouncing and striking her cheek. Her stomach heaved. I think I’m going to be ill.

  The man grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard, causing her head to crash against the hard floor. “Tell us what we want to know about the money or I’ll—”

  “Kitty? Where are you?”

  Lydia! Kitty gasped, as the cloth was rammed back into her mouth, covered again with the piece of rope.

  She must be looking for me. The sound was faint, so her sister must be around the front of the house.

  “Leave her there. We’ll have to come back in a little while when it’s fully dark, Come on.” Faint light entered the shed as the first man opened the door and crept out.

  Kitty let out a sigh. They were going to leave. Maybe she could—

  A jolt of pain crashed over her face as the second man struck her cheek. Nauseated, Kitty rolled to her side, closed her eyes, and held very still. Ever since she’d been little, lying in that position was the only thing that helped her diminish stomach upset. Clenching her teeth around the foul-tasting cloth, Kitty was only vaguely aware of the second man leaving, closing the door firmly behind him.

  She stayed in that position for a long while. At least it felt that way, although she’d lost all sense of time. But it might only have been a few minutes. Cautiously, hoping the nausea had passed, she turned her head toward the only small window in the far wall of the shed. Total darkness had fallen. Were her sisters worried? Still searching for her?

  When Lydia hadn’t discovered Kitty’s whereabouts, her tenacious sister would have kept searching until she found her. But would she they think to check the shed? Robert was the only one with a key, so the girls never went in there.

  As usual, Lydia would assume that Kitty was somewhere, flirting with someone.

  For once, that wasn’t the case. I wish it was…

  One of the men had said they’d be back. How much time did she have until—

  Something rustled outside. Was it Lydia?

  “That dark-haired girl and a blonde one are going up and down the street calling out for Kitty.”

  The men were back and standing right outside. Keep calm. She held very still, trying to listen, to see if she could find out what they were up to.

  “Yeah, I saw them too. We’ll have to wait a bit longer before we take this one to the Epsom racecourse, else someone will see us leave with her.”

  The racecourse?

  “Keep your voice down. Want her to hear you?”

  “Don’t worry. I hit her hard, and she passed out. Was laying there like a lump of coal.”

  “Fine, but why should we take her to Epsom?”

  “’Cause my brother works there on the grounds. He told me of a shed way out back where we can stash her and try to get her to talk. We can’t stay here. Someone will find her. And then—”

  “Then we’ll never get our money that Robert promised us.”

  Robert?

  “I swear,
if she don’t tell us where the money is hidden, I’ll kill her.”

  No… My family will never know what became of me. They’ll be heartbroken when they can’t find me. I’ll never have a chance to know Nathaniel better, let him know how I truly feel…

  “What makes you so sure she knows?”

  “’Cause she was the one selling those small paintings. Robert had said to only buy the one that had that triangle drawn on it somewhere. Whatever one had it, that was where we could pick up our share of the money.”

  Kitty blinked. The Tower of London?

  “But by the time I got to her, she didn’t have any more with that symbol.”

  “Maybe she don’t know nothin’.”

  The man gave a low chuckle. “You think them girls are dumb enough to just draw some ridiculous shape into their picture without knowing why?”

  “I don’t know… that Robert is a shrewd one. And women are stupid.”

  “No, she has to know where the money is. Either she tells us, or she’s dead.”

  “Or we could make Robert pay a ransom to get her back.”

  “Sure. That might work.”

  The voices stopped and the thump of footsteps grew fainter as the seconds ticked by.

  Hot tears rolled down Kitty’s cheeks. Why? Why had Robert put her and her sisters in such a terrible position? She knew he was mean, but she had no idea the depths to which her cousin had sunk.

  How long had he been dealing with people like those men? And in possession of money? Anger briefly overcame her fear. To think we scrimped and went without, him telling us how we were going to end up on the streets. That I had to try to get Stratford to marry me… And all the while Robert had money?

  She needed to do something, but what? Calling out to anyone with the cloth in her mouth would be impossible. And she wasn’t going to be able to leave the shed since her ankles were tied. She tried pulling on the rope around her wrists, but it wouldn’t budge. As she turned to her other side, something sharp poked her hip. What was it? A stick lying on the floor?

  Wait.

  She’d stuck an old, worn-down pencil in her pocket early that morning. Sometimes when she was bored waiting for customers at the bazaar, she drew pictures on scrap pieces of foolscap. Could she possibly leave a message with the pencil?

  Slowly, using just the tips of her fingers, she tugged the fabric of her skirt around until she could reach the pocket. The opening still wasn’t close enough. With a sharp tug, she was able to pull it near. A small ripping sound caused her to grimace. She’d torn the edge of the pocket.

  Kitty, what does it matter? Remember where you are.

  She let out a sigh and worked down inside the pocket. The pencil. There it was. Did she also have some foolscap? A slow, tedious search of the inside of the fabric produced nothing more.

  What now? How could she leave a message for her sisters to find her?

  Kitty dropped her head on the floor, suddenly exhausted from angling in all directions to access her pocket. She looked down.

  The wall.

  Could she use the pencil to leave a message there? What could she say?

  Help. I’m being taken against my will to Epsom Racecourse.

  She shook her head, at once sorry, because the movement threatened to bring back her nausea. With a deep, slow breath, she forced herself to relax.

  No, she couldn’t leave such an obvious message. What if her abductors saw it when they came to take her back? It was dark, but what if they chanced bringing a lantern and saw her message on the wall?

  There had to be a way to leave a message for her sisters without using words. Something like the S they put in the panoramas. She could draw a horse, but they wouldn’t know what she meant. Even if they figured it was a racecourse, they’d never been to Epsom and might not assume it was that one.

  Her fingers tingled. She wiggled them, trying to get some feeling back so she could draw something. Whatever she drew would have to be small and simple. That was going to be difficult enough to do it with her wrists tied.

  It had to be an image Lydia and Patience would understand but that the abductors wouldn’t, if they happened to see it. Because if those men figured it out, they’d either change the place where they would take her or—

  Kitty shivered, not wanting to think about the or.

  If only her sisters had been to the Epsom racecourse with her. Then if they saw a picture of a horse, it might make sense that’s where she’d be. Kitty sighed. It wasn’t going to work. Too many ifs.

  Nathaniel had been there with her. If Kitty drew a horse, would he understand the clue? But the racecourse grounds were spread out. He’d not know to check in the shed the men had mentioned unless she somehow made it clear. He was to come collect her tomorrow morning for another assignment. Would he still come in light of what he’d witnessed of her and Stratford by the stream?

  Please, Nathaniel, come. Just this one last time…

  If he did, would her sisters ask for his help in trying to find her? The clue needed to be something Nathaniel would understand that would point him in the direction of the grassy expanse behind the course where she’d seen the shed the day they’d been there, but not obvious to those other men.

  Very well.

  Time was of the essence, because she didn’t know how soon the men would come back. Grasping the pencil tightly, Kitty edged as close to the wall as she could and began to draw.