When Jason looked up at her aunt’s front door, Charlotte hesitated only a moment, before hurrying to the door. It was just possible, despite Reed’s doubts about Jason, that he had, indeed, learned something concerning Teddy.
Gerald was nowhere about, as she opened the front door and hurried down the front steps.
“Jason, thank goodness. Did you find out anything?”
To her relief, he nodded. “I did, but it’s . . . confidential.” He glanced around, then over Charlotte’s head. “I think you’d better step into my carriage so we can discuss this in private.”
She looked at the house, Reed’s warning echoing in her ears. She thought she saw Alicia at the upstairs window, but couldn’t be sure that it hadn’t been the play of the setting sunlight on the panes.
“Jason, come in and you can tell me over tea.”
“There is no time for that. Your brother is not at the Lunatic Hospital any longer,” he said, darting his glance to the great windows at the front of her aunt’s house, “but we must move quickly.”
“Where is he?” she began.
“Please, Charlotte, just step into my carriage, and I will explain everything. It’ll only take a moment.”
Again, she felt unease, but she shook her head. Her nerves were on edge, but this was Jason, after all. “Alright, but I must warn you that I am not in the best frame of mind at the moment. And I don’t appreciate the additional suspense.”
“Oh, dear,” his face fell with concern, but he took her hand and helped her to step up into the carriage.
As Charlotte sat down, it occurred to her that, even though this was Jason Farnsworth, III, from an upstanding family, as her aunt kept reminding her, that she would much prefer be in her Alicia’s parlor while she heard whatever he was about to tell her.
Before she could suggest this once again, he seated himself opposite her and rapped on the roof with his cane. With a sudden lurch, the vehicle started to move.
“What on earth are you doing, Jason? I am not in the mood for games.”
“No games, Charlotte,” he assured her before his face lost its veneer of gentlemanly good humor as quickly as one closed a shutter. “I’m taking you to your brother.”
“My brother!” she exclaimed. “Jason, I don’t understand.”
He shook his head, his eyes bright, as he gazed at her, almost with mirth. His continued silence alarmed her.
“Jason, please. What’s this all about? I demand you tell me now.” The prickling at the nape of her neck was a warning coming too late.
“You demand?” He laughed, but his amusement didn’t resemble Reed’s warm laughter; the sounded more like the harsh brakes of a railway car. “In case you haven’t noticed, you are in no position to demand anything. But out of the kindness of my heart, I am taking you to him, then the two of you can perish together. It’s the least I can do.”
She wasn’t sure if she’d heard him right. A moment later, as he fixed on her a stare that turned her blood to ice, she was sure. He was behind this whole mess and, like an idiot, she had simply walked out of her aunt’s house and stepped into his carriage, despite Reed’s warnings. Without even a struggle.
It occurred to her then that the carriage had not been his usual gaily colored one, emblazoned with the family monogram. Of course, he would not use his own vehicle for whatever dastardly plan he had.
“Oh, I can see your thoughts tumbling as keenly as Swiss clockwork in your head,” he said with a thin smile. “Fortunately for me, you didn’t do a little more thinking first. I am glad the shay incident didn’t work. I regretted it almost as soon as I’d arranged it.”
She realized with dawning horror that Jason had tried to kill her with the runaway carriage even before she’d made her discovery at the asylum—the very thing he had hoped to avoid by murdering her. And she had foolishly suspected Helen.
He grinned and nodded at her stunned expression. “Oh, but what a stroke of luck that your Mr. Malloy was there to catch you. Still, I cherished how you turned to me in your time of trouble, not knowing that, all the while, I could snuff you out at my will.” There was little emotion in his words except the overtones of gloating.
“Your brother indicated that you were somewhat reserved, not to mention intellectually forward, but I think you’re a lively creature. In other circumstances,” he leaned forward to caress her cheek and she drew back as far as she could against the seat, “we could have had a wonderful time together, I’m sure.”
Charlotte turned and bit him.
Without hesitation, he slapped her hard across her cheek. She didn’t cry out but sat there stunned. It was the first time violence had been perpetrated against her in her entire life. And it filled her with some fear but mostly anger.
She resolved then that, come what may, she would not let this brutish man destroy her life—just when she had found such happiness with Reed and the children, and even with her Aunt Alicia. This was not the time to die.
“Don’t make things unpleasant, Charlotte.”
“Then don’t touch me again.” Her voice was as icy as his gaze.
He stared hard at her through narrowed eyes, and then nodded. “There’s not much time left anyway. We’re almost there.”
Where was there? she wondered. They had not gone far. She could smell the sea air strongly now, and it occurred to her that the Farnsworths were a merchant family—codfish aristocracy, as Reed had called them, though she knew his contemptuous words had been for Jason, alone, and not his entire family. In any case, they most probably had a warehouse on the docks.
Her mind was whirling now as she thought of the seaman’s dead body on the docks, and of her brother’s innocence. It occurred to her that Jason had sought her out as soon as she’d arrived in Boston, and then she had gladly told him all about the article she was working on, including her intention of going to the Lunatic Hospital. And all the while . . .
“I’m certain your warehouse will be secluded at this time of the evening; just as it was when you murdered Arthur Harvey,” she said, watching his eyes open wide for the briefest instant. It made her feel better to unnerve him with even her small piece of the puzzle. Then he smiled lazily at her.
“I imagine it will be, and perhaps there will be time, after all, to indulge in our baser passions once we get there.” Without warning, he prodded her skirt between her legs with the gold-headed cane he still held.
She shuddered and pushed it away. So much for unnerving him. Next time, she would keep her mouth shut. If there was a next time.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jason’s carriage drove between the open warehouse doors, which then closed quickly behind them. The buildings’ windows had been blocked with boards on the inside, making hanging oil lamps the only source of light.
As Charlotte emerged from the coach, she could see Thaddeus held between two burly men.
“Teddy,” she cried out, running to him, as he struggles to free himself, a reddened bump on his temple evidence that he’d been manhandled.
“Let him go,” she demanded, feeling wild with anger and fear.
At Jason’s nod, the men released his arms, which he wrapped around Charlotte as she held onto him tightly. She could scarcely believe he was real, his heart beating under her cheek.
“Charlie, Charlie,” he murmured into her hair. “I was beginning to think I’d only dreamt I’d seen you.” She had started to think the same thing and was so glad he was there in her arms and not locked in that dismal cell—until she realized he would be safer if he were still at the hospital.
“Put them in the spice store until the ship arrives.”
The men that Jason spoke to were obviously stevedores, with their kerchiefs around their huge necks and muscles bulging under their thin shirts. One man grabbed her brother, already weakened by his head injury and his long incarceration, and hauled Thaddeus’s arms behind him; the other one held Charlotte by her forearm.
They took their captives toward
the rear of the warehouse, threading their way through crates and coiled ropes. The men stopped at the open door of a small room that smelled strongly of all manner of spices.
Charlotte felt a rough hand in the small of her back before she went flying into the windowless room, her hair spilling out of its knot as her hands and knees hit the hard floor. She felt Thaddeus bounce off of her before the door slammed shut. Here, they were left without even a candle.
Holding on tightly to her brother in the darkness, Charlotte wanted to ask him about all that had happened, but the mention of a ship came into the forefront of her thoughts.
“If we don’t get out of here soon, Teddy, we’re going to be sailing away from Boston, never to be seen again.”
“Perhaps that bastard Farnsworth is going to sell us as slaves,” Thaddeus offered, and Charlotte felt him run an unsteady hand through his hair.
She blanched at the thought of ending up in some man’s harem. Then she remembered Jason’s words on the ride over.
“Jason said we would be perishing together. He means to kill us. The ship is a convenient way to get our bodies far out to sea. It wouldn’t do to have your convicted and incarcerated corpse show up in the harbor.”
“This is all my fault, Charlie,” Thaddeus began.
“I truly want to hear all about why I’m going to die, little brother,” Charlotte told him, reaching for his face in the darkness and holding his cheeks in both her hands, “but I’d prefer to hear that when we’re safely out of here. Any suggestions?”
She felt him smile under her fingers, maybe at her, but then he shook his head.
“You saw those two guys. On a good day, I might be able to hold my own against them. Well, maybe one of them . . . for a while,” he said.
Charlotte could see that her brother was, indeed, no longer the slender youth who weighed barely more than she did. He certainly towered over her, and she was sure, when he wasn’t exhausted and half-starved, he could defend himself quite well.
“But this isn’t a good day,” she finished for him. And again, she felt his lopsided grin under her fingertips. They couldn’t die now, she told herself. She had Lily and Thomas to think of; they’d already been orphaned once. He squeezed her in another close hug.
“Charlie, if we get out of this, it will be because we have a cunning plan that has nothing to do with brute force, or . . . because you brought help?” he ended with a question.
She thought of Reed. Even if he had already returned to her aunt’s, how would he know for sure that it had been Jason who had taken her, and how would he ever figure out where she was?
“No, I’m afraid it’s up to us, Teddy, at least for a while, and I think I know where to start.”
“Where?”
“With Jason, himself.”
“That ruthless pig,” Thaddeus spat out. “He’d sell his own mother for a profit. What good would it do to talk to him? Do you think he’s just going to see reason and let us go? He already has a policeman answering to him and there’s no doubt someone at that hellhole I was kept in was on the take.”
Charlotte thought about how George Mason had put her off for a couple days, probably needing to check with Jason as to whether she should be allowed to talk to the doctor or not. And she still wondered if Dr. Pridgen had steered her clear of Thaddeus’s cell on purpose.
“I’m wondering if we can try a little blackmail,” Charlotte said. “If he thinks I’ve got something on him and have already told someone else, he might just hesitate until he checks out my story. I’m not totally alone in this rescue, Teddy. I believe I just need to gain us some time.”
Then she remembered how close help could be. “Not to mention find a telephone!”
She didn’t wait for her brother to offer an alternative plan or to dissuade her from the poor one she already had. She jumped up and banged on the thick wooden door until one of their beefy guards opened it.
“What?” he yelled at her without ceremony and she almost lost her nerve.
“Tell Mr. Farnsworth that I want to speak with him. Tell him I know about Sergeant Sheffield,” she added, taking an educated guess that the policeman who’d failed to check Thaddeus’s identity was corrupt.
He hesitated but then slammed the door. Charlotte listened to his footsteps and then silence. Thaddeus got to his feet and put his arms around her. “I know we’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t, Charlie, but be careful. And I’m not letting you out of my sight, by the way.”
“Don’t worry. If the situation gets out of control, we’ll just retreat. Then we can die together,” she added, with just a touch of mockery. Oddly, she felt brave, especially with Teddy beside her, and with all the upheaval she’d already weathered in a few short months.
The footsteps returned; the door was wrenched open and one of the men grabbed her by her upper arm and dragged her out.
“She’s a lady,” her brother yelled at him, following closely behind, “don’t be so rough.” He was stoutly punched in the stomach by the other man and shoved back into the store room.
Charlotte had time for one backward glance at her brother, doubled up on the floor, before the door swung shut. You’ll pay for that, too, Jason, she vowed silently.
*****
“So, you know about Sheffield,” Jason said, confirming her supposition. “The question is, what else do you know?”
“No,” she said taking the seat that he offered in a small partitioned section of the warehouse that seemed to serve as an office. Jason sat behind a large desk on the corner of which lay a pistol. One of the men remained blocking the door behind her. “The question is, whom have I told?”
He blinked once, twice, then he laughed in short barks. “Between mid-day when I told you to stay put and dinnertime? Since you’ve lived here a relatively short time, Charlotte, and since I’ve monopolized nearly all of that time, I can’t think who would believe your half-cocked story about seeing your brother. Except, perhaps, Alicia Randall, and I do plan to deal with her soon.”
The threat to her aunt sent a bolt of white hot fury through her. The arrogance! That Jason should think himself at liberty to harm people as he saw necessary for his own plans. And then the image of Reed, dangerously powerful and sexy but infinitely gentle, came unbidden to her mind.
It occurred to Charlotte then that Reed had taken her at her word about Thaddeus, never questioning whether she had actually seen him. What an extraordinary man who had come into her life. She would be damned if she’d allow Jason to ruin everything now. Her anger gave her the necessary courage. She countered.
“Yet in my stay here, as you know, I have met people, including the Post’s editor. It doesn’t take long to pick up a telephone,” she added, noticing that there wasn’t one in the warehouse office.
Jason shot her a narrow look.
“Is it Greene, then? What does he know?”
She didn’t want to endanger Mr. Greene by saying anything more. If she didn’t come through it alive, he would be next on the list after Alicia. Jason took her silence as evidence of not cooperating and he gestured almost offhandedly to one of his men.
Large hands grabbed both her arms from behind and held them behind the chair. Jason was quick then, moving toward her while she was still trying to figure out what there was to be afraid of in this new posture. Then she saw the knife he held in his hand.
Charlotte opened her mouth as he reached toward her.
“Scream and I’ll draw blood.”
She stifled her terror as he slit open the top of her gown where it stretched over her breasts. She struggled to free her arms, but it was like pulling against stone. This, she thought, was when she should retreat to the relative safety of the store room, but she hadn’t accomplished anything yet.
“He will come. He was on his way to my aunt’s house. When he learns I have been abducted, he will put it all together and find me.”
Jason, who plainly thought she was still talking about Charles Greene—the s
light, bespectacled editor with an unassuming manner—laughed again. He pulled down her dress on one side and caressed her shoulder. She didn’t flinch but stared him squarely in the eye.
“So this is how Jason Farnsworth has to get a woman,” she sneered, feeling outraged by the liberties he was taking.
He slapped her for that as he had done in the carriage, and her cheek stung with the blow. He was not deterred and cut away the strap of her chemisette. Below that was a corset, but he already had a full view down her décolletage.
“Not the only way, Charlotte, but an undeniably amusing one. And I’m sure you’ll agree that I’m infinitely more appealing than, say, Bertie, here, though that would be interesting entertainment . . . for me, at least.”
The idea of Jason watching and taking pleasure in such an assault revolted her. “You’re vile,” she said, still struggling between the two men.
Jason bent his face very close to hers. “You know, I think I will let him have a turn if there’s time when I’m through.”
Charlotte leaned her head as far away as possible, understanding then that she was not dealing with normal sexual desire. He enjoyed something with pain involved.
“You’ve got a mother, a sister,” she started, while watching him gesture over her head and then feeling Bertie begin to tie her hands. “Would you allow them to be treated this way? I am no different from them,” she added.
Jason seemed to ignore her words. He sent Bertie from the room then heaved her from the chair and bent her backward over the desk.
“There is a difference,” he whispered fiercely into her face, as she struggled and kicked at him to no avail. “You are not my mother or my sister, and you are getting in the way of my business, which is to make money.”
“And how will assaulting me help?” Charlotte asked, trying to twist and turn and impede his progress. How had she ever thought him pleasant? Good Lord, how did such horridness masquerade in everyday society as normalcy?
An Improper Situation (Sanborn-Malloy Historical Romance Series, Book One) Page 30
