The Gray Chamber

by Grace Hitchcock

  Overwhelmed with relief that Roger was still in charge of Edyth, Bane fought to keep his guise intact. Edyth’s body sagged, and he pulled her up against him as the men approached, aching to save her at once and not wait on Roger. “I will speak with the matron about this.”

  “And she will side with my uncle.” She clutched his sleeve, the desperation in her eyes alarming him. Doesn’t she realize the treatment is a ruse? “You can’t let them take me, Bane. They will erase my mind, and I’ll never remember—”

  He stepped in front of her again and whipped the mop handle in an offensive maneuver. “Keep back!”

  The attendants dove for him as Bane swooped the handle around, knocking both men to the ground before he whirled around to face her uncle and found him gripping her by the nape of her neck, bending her over the stair rail. He had been so focused on the orderlies, he had forgotten Edyth’s weakened state. One shove, and Edyth would fall to her death.

  “Drop it, or she dies. No one here will breathe a word against mine stating that she tripped in her hysteria.”

  “And I will confirm the tale,” came the raspy voice from a tall, thin woman who appeared as an apparition from the shadows.

  “Thank you, Matron.” Mr. Foster gave him a grin, a light glinting in his eyes. He jerked Edyth back by her hair. “I can end this all now if you do not comply.”

  Edyth’s arms hung limply, even as her body inclined toward him.

  What good was it being a fencing master if he could not even protect the woman he loved? Bane relaxed his stance, stepped back, and threw down his weapon.

  “Good,” Boris replied, still holding Edyth in place.

  “Release her, and we will let our lawyers settle this.”

  Boris gave a short laugh. “You are trespassing and will be dealt with accordingly. A burglar should not expect special treatment.”

  “Whatever happens, Bane, I want you to know that I have always loved you.” Edyth reached out to him with such tenderness that he felt his heart tear in two at the thought of losing her forever.

  “This is not the end, Edyth. I will get you out of here.” Several pairs of strong arms wrenched him back as two nurses mounted the top stair and grasped Edyth by both arms. When she was safely away from her uncle, she released a strangled cry and fought against them as she was pulled toward the hallway doors. “Bane! Bane, don’t let them take me!”

  “Edyth!” Bane tugged against the hold of the men and managed to slip one arm away, but one of the men tripped him, grabbing his leg. He kicked free, rammed his elbow into the nearest man’s gut, and sprinted for her, but the door slammed in his face. He heard the shot of the bolt and watched helplessly through the barred glass as they dragged her down the hall, her eyes never leaving his until the men seized his arms again and jerked him back.

  “Send for the police!” Mr. Foster shouted behind him.

  “It could take awhile, sir,” the matron replied, her hands clasped in front of her black gown. “We will need to send a telegram, but the police will most likely wait for the next ferry instead of renting a vessel. It could take a couple of hours for the law to appear.”

  “Then I suggest you use one of your many rooms here and lock him away until they arrive to cart him off to jail,” Mr. Foster growled.

  “As you know, we are well beyond capacity here, but we do have a rather large vegetable cellar in the kitchen building available.” She waved to the orderlies to pull him along.

  Bane allowed them to take him without a fight to the kitchen building, feeling if he didn’t struggle he would have a better chance at not being tied up. The men escorted him out the main building and into a kitchen that had seen far better days where a large chef and a few apathetic workers chopped rotting vegetables while several inmates in ragged gray gowns stood washing an endless pile of filthy dishes.

  The matron unlocked and swung open a small door with an arched top and the men threw Bane inside, the stone steps biting his knees before he tucked his body and rolled into a mound of potato-filled burlap sacks. The attendants took two small lengths of rope from two sacks and wrapped one around Bane’s hands and one around his feet before nodding with satisfaction and leaving him to his own devices.

  The grinding lock echoed against the stone walls. Bane twisted to find the source of light and spied a small window at ground level. He didn’t find anything of use to saw through his bonds, so he bent over backward and managed to stuff his hand into his pocket and fish out Edyth’s pin. He ran his finger over the dull blade and began to saw back and forth across the rope, formulating a new plan to rescue Edyth. Dear Lord, keep her safe until Roger can save her.

  Chapter Twenty

  It is far better to draw what one now only sees in one’s memory. That is a transformation in which imagination collaborates with memory.

  ~ Edgar Degas

  Edyth gripped the small Bible to her chest and rocked back and forth on her wretched cot, whispering the name of Jesus to comfort herself. Despite the hope of escape, it frightened her to no end to think that she might forget His name once the madness of her mother descended upon her. “Jesus, save me. Don’t let this be my story. Show me what to do.”

  She laid the Bible in her lap and slowly turned the pages to where Poppy’s tattered ribbon marked her last reading. Edyth’s gaze rested on the second book of Chronicles. “‘Ye shall not need to fight in this battle: set yourselves, stand ye still, and see the salvation of the Lord with you … fear not, nor be dismayed; to morrow go out against them: for the Lord will be with you.’” She bowed her head, almost meeting her knees. “Lord, I will try my best not to be afraid, but I have never felt or have been so powerless. I know You will be with me today as I enter the Gray Chamber. Please let Roger’s plan work. Whatever happens, I know You will fight this battle and every one after for me.”

  The door creaked, sending her scurrying backward and tripping over her back hem.

  “It’s me.” Nellie reached out and grabbed Edyth into a fierce hug, waking her from her panic. “The nurses were distracted with your uncle, so I told a male attendant that it was my time of month, and I needed to return to my cot. He grew uncomfortable and sent me here straightaway. How are you?”

  Edyth stepped back to see her friend’s expression. “I’m frightened. Did you come to tell me news of your contact? Did you speak with him?”

  Nellie shook her head, misery etched into her face. “I don’t know where he is. He was supposed to be here this morning at the latest.” She raked her hands through her wild hair. “How could he do this? I’ll have his hide.”

  Edyth tried to smile. “His hide won’t do me much good now, will it? But there is hope yet.”

  Nellie seized Edyth’s hands. “That’s why I’m here. I saw what happened.”

  “Then you know the specialist is Bane? I should have told you sooner, so you wouldn’t be so afraid for me, but—”

  “That doesn’t matter now. What matters is that Bane knows you are here,” Nellie interrupted. “And even if I cannot help you, he will not allow this to happen to you. From what you tell me of him, he will return, charging in here, armed to the hilt. When a man loves a woman, and she is in danger, he will move heaven and earth to see her safe and in his arms.”

  “Bane is relentless when he sets his mind to something.”

  “I know it.” Nellie gave her a small smile. “I read it in every glance, in every touch. The man adores you. You will not perish in this place, Edyth Foster.”

  Keys jingled at the door once more, and a giant orderly burst into the room, startling her into dropping her Bible. He grabbed Edyth up by her arms so roughly she screamed.

  Nellie darted to her side and slapped the man as he pulled Edyth toward the hall. “Release her at once. Or so help me—”

  The attendant slammed the door in Nellie’s face and dragged Edyth behind him by her hair as Nellie’s cries followed them.

  Her blood pounded in her ears as the man jerked her down the hall.
Don’t be afraid. Roger is here. He will get you out. Remember what Bane said. Act. She clawed at his hands, attempting to break his hold. “Let me go! You don’t know who I am! I can pay you a fortune if you only let me out of here.”

  He grunted and tightened his hold on her, ignoring her rant as she kicked and clawed at him. He easily hauled her toward the Gray Chamber, the dim lanterns lighting the way as the island grew dark with a brewing storm, thunder echoing in the hall.

  The attendant threw open the door of the chamber, and Edyth dug her heels into the floor and pressed her palms up against the threshold, bracing herself. Using the side of his hand as an ax, the man smacked downward on her elbow, breaking her stance, and heaved her into a room that held two cots with restraints on them, a chair with straps, a board with straps … Everywhere she looked, there were restraints. Lightning lit the room, further revealing a crude wooden table that boasted straps to secure the head, arms, hands, legs, and feet. Spread atop was an array of filled needles and metal devices. She shivered at the thought of what they could be used for in the name of treatment. She felt like she was looking at a medieval torture chamber, for there was truly no other word for what this chamber promised for any patients within its belly.

  Her gaze rested on a gray metal trough in the middle of the room that was filled to the brim with water, chunks of ice floating on top. Her breaths came in hitches at what stood beside it, a wooden cage the size of a coffin. She whipped her head to the side and bit the man holding her. He cried out and loosened his grip for a second, which was all she needed to bolt for the door and throw it open to find Roger with a short attendant beside him.

  Edyth fairly wept with relief as she ceased her flight, the attendants seizing her at once. She was saved. “Roger, thank God. You are going to have them stop this charade of undergoing treatment now, aren’t you?”

  He kept his lips pursed and stepped into the room, one hand stroking his short red beard as his gaze swept over her. He snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor in front of the trough, the thugs setting her in the spot at once, her back to the door.

  “It is time for you to act on your promise of protection.” Her gaze fastened on the gray trough awaiting some poor soul. Tearing her attention back to Roger, she forced herself to release a short laugh. “All right, Roger, you’ve had your cruel amusement at my expense. Now release me so we can all go home.”

  She had seen the shivering of the disoriented bodies brought out of this room, and she did not wish to find out what it was like firsthand, but instead of answering her, Roger removed a white jacket from a line of white jackets hanging on pegs and tossed it to one of the men, who held it open. Before she realized what they were about, Roger gripped her arms and forced her into the jacket with a series of attached hooks and ties, securing her arms at her sides. The more she twisted, the tighter it became. “Enough of this! Release me, Roger!”

  Roger motioned for the men to exit the room, and when the door closed, she exhaled with a shaky laugh.

  “You nearly had me fooled, so I’m certain you fooled them too.”

  He rested a hand on her shoulder, sorrow etching his features. “I am truly sorry, Edyth. When I followed you to report your behavior to your uncle, I thought that, while you were eccentric, you were not out of your mind, and I decided to woo you to secure your fortune, but that all changed when I met Lavinia. She is a beauty. But when Boris realized he had something he could hold over my head, he used it. Your fate now controls mine.”

  Is he betraying me? She stared unblinking at him, but nothing registered over the roar in her ears.

  “Boris told me that I either commit you for a handsome annual stipend and his approval to marry his stepdaughter, or lose Lavinia forever.”

  Fury flooded her, and she jerked away from his hold, bent her head down, and rammed him in the stomach. Roger fell to the floor, and she aimed her foot for his throat, but he rolled up and lunged for her. She ducked and whirled simultaneously, lifting her heel and butting him in the jaw, sending him sprawling back. She leapt atop the table, intending to dive through the glass of the window that, shockingly, did not have bars.

  Roger swung his arm and knocked her legs out from under her, slamming her to the table and taking the wind from her lungs. She pressed her shoulder onto the table, struggling to rise without the use of her hands, but he easily pulled her to the floor.

  “I trusted you. We trusted you.” Her voice cracked.

  Roger wrapped his arms around her from behind, his hot breath in her ear. “Hush now. It will be quick, painless.”

  “If Lavinia finds out that you personally administered this treatment, she will never forgive you. You still have a choice. If you tell her of Uncle’s threat, Lavinia will not honor her stepfather. Help me escape, and all will be forgiven.”

  He shook his head. “If I do not go through with wiping your memories, I risk losing Lavinia if she ever discovers your location and hears the story from your lips.” He tapped the cage and squatted. “So, to ensure that never happens, once I’m done with silencing you, I believe there is a specialist who will be having an accident inside the Gray Chamber.”

  She screamed, slamming her head back into his nose, feeling the crunch against her scalp. “Don’t you dare touch Bane!”

  Releasing her to cradle his nose, Roger yelled, “Orderlies!”

  The men burst through the door and gripped her. Panic seized her as they pulled her forward and proceeded to stuff her inside the wooden cage and shut the top. She pressed her face between the bars, her breath coming in gasps. “Lord!” she cried out. Protect my memories. Do not let them steal anything else from me. “Save me, Jesus!”

  “Be still. Stop fighting,” came the nearly audible command, stilling her at once. “Ye shall not need to fight in this battle: set yourself, stand ye still, and see the salvation of the Lord with you. Fear not, for the Lord will be with you.” Tears spilled onto her cheeks, and she gave her trust over to God once more.

  She drew a final breath, and they dropped her into the icy waters, stunning her body, but she let herself relax, thinking if she fought she might lose whatever air she had managed to keep. She was a good swimmer. She could hold her breath and fool them into thinking she had passed out. I will not be afraid. I will not fear.

  The stiffness seeped through her being and, as her breath began to leave her, brought forth a cold from the recesses of her mind, and a memory flickered into life. She was a child again. Happy. She was skating. One, two, three strides and she stopped, her parents calling to her. Her heart stuttered at the vivid color in her mother’s cheeks and the concern in her father’s warning to stop. She giggled and kept skating. She heard a crack as the ice broke beneath her, and she sank into the freezing depths. Hands plunged into the water and she reached for them, three hands not touching. Then the jagged rim of ice overhead collapsed further, and her parents toppled into the gray water surrounding her.

  She felt the cage being lifted, and then she broke the surface, gasping for air. Edyth felt the cool air flowing into her lungs, but she kept her eyes closed and lolled her head to the side, lest the doctor think she had not almost drowned.

  “She fainted a lot sooner, Doc. Don’t we usually hold ’em under longer?”

  I was there. I was there the day my parents died. Those hands I saw reaching were Mother and Father attempting to save me. If Uncle knew that, what else has he been hiding from me all these years?

  “Good enough for the first time. Her tolerance is most likely lower. Remove her straitjacket and lay her on the cot for an hour. We will do one last ice treatment before the first injection and then put her to bed directly afterward. Add more ice for the next patient. I’ll return momentarily.”

  Edyth heard his heels click on the floor and the clinking of the ice pick, followed by a splash as the men did Roger’s bidding. She dared to open an eye and spied a cane leaning against the one desk in the room, her heart stuttering as she recognized the silver engraved h
andle of the gift she had given not too long ago. Bane’s. One of the orderlies must have pilfered it. Thank You, Lord. The asylum’s greed would be her escape. She gathered her strength and waited for the right moment. Soon the taller attendant left to fetch another patient and the other approached her supposedly unconscious form, reaching for the straps attached to the table. She twisted her body and thrust a powerful kick between the man’s legs, sending him to the ground with a groan as he curled into a ball.

  “Hussy!” he grunted, attempting to rally, now on all fours.

  Evading him, she lurched, her fingers grasping the cane’s silver handle. Snatching it up, she twisted the head and yanked, revealing the deadly steel hidden beneath the surface. She swiveled, lifting her rapier, the tip directed at the attendant’s face. She whipped the rodlike sheath around, wielding it like a second sword. The man laughed and barreled toward her, but with an expert move, she skirted him, striking him on the head with the sheath while using her blade to slice him in just the right muscle, causing his arm to fall limply to his side as he howled in pain.

  Holding the tip of her blade to his cheek, she drew a thin line of blood and commanded, “Your keys.”

  “You will never make it. Your uncle has told a few of us that if you meet with an accident, there will be a bonus for us.” The man sneered as he felt for the keys at his belt using his good hand.

  “I’m dead if I stay, and I’m dead if I’m caught. I’d rather take my chances and live with my memories of being loved.” Before I follow in my grandmother’s footsteps.

  Edyth snatched the keys from his fingertips, knocked him out with the butt of the cane head, and stumbled down the hall toward the rotunda where she knew she would have the best chance of escaping if she could only garner enough strength to fight her way through to the front doors. Blade at the ready, she checked the door to the rotunda and found it, of course, locked. She tucked the sheath under her arm while keeping the blade en garde and fumbled through the keys on the loop. Her fingers trembled as shouts rose behind her. The first key did not work. With an exasperated grunt, she thrust the second into the lock and nearly fainted at the click of the lock and swing of the door. She bolted through, rounded the corner, and smacked into something solid, knocking her to the ground and sending her weapons from her hands and sliding out of reach.