Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
By the time the cart stopped, Eliza’s body ached and her throat was raw from the gag. It felt like she’d been in there for hours, and in truth, she had no idea how long it was.
Someone threw back the cover, and hands closed around her waist to haul her out.
Even the weak light made her eyes water as they set her on her feet, and her knees threatened to buckle, but she locked them.
Her hands were then untied, and Eliza nearly wept with relief as the ache in her shoulders eased.
Show no weakness, Eliza.
The foul-tasting rag was pulled from her mouth. She sucked in a great, shuddering breath of cold air. It burned her raw throat but felt good all the same after breathing around the gag for so long.
“Move,” a voice growled.
Fingers clamped around her upper arm and jerked her forward. Eliza stumbled, then found her footing and forced her spine straight.
It wasn’t fully dark yet, and Eliza guessed it was late afternoon, though she really had no idea after that suffocating journey.
Eliza saw open pasture, a rutted drive, and a line of wind-bent trees in the distance. No house, no sign of a village. Just the squat, dark bulk of a barn ahead of them.
“Where are you taking me?” Her voice came out hoarse.
“Shut up and don’t ask questions,” the man at her side snapped.
His grip tightened when she tried to twist free, and she looked up into the face of the man who had killed her father. A face she’d never forget.
The other man walked behind them, his boots crunching on the ground.
“Why am I here?” she demanded as they drew closer to the barn.
“I’ll stuff that gag back in your bleeding mouth if you don’t shut it,” the man snarled in her ear.
Eliza bit back any reply. Not because she feared him, but because she needed to think. To see. To remember every detail of this place if she was to get out of it.
They veered around the side of the barn to a smaller door. The man shouldered it open, and Eliza was dragged inside.
It was larger than it appeared from the outside, its roof a lattice of dark beams overhead with a hayloft running along one side. Stalls lined both sides of the aisle, a few horses watching them over stable doors.
Her captor’s fingers dug harder into her arm. “In there.”
Eliza saw another door, this one smaller, and to her eyes, sturdier. It had a lock hanging from a latch outside.
Her heart thudded hard inside her chest.
The man behind them stepped forward and unlocked it. The door swung inward. The scent of something sickly sweet hit her. Laudanum. She knew the smell, as it had been given to her when she’d burned her hand.
She was shoved into the room, and got her first look at what lay before her.
Two large beds, a bath, and other necessities you’d see in a bedroom. Bright-colored dresses hung over a railing. A small, high window, too small for anyone but a child to squeeze through, let in a smear of weak light.
But it wasn’t the contents of the room that held her gaze. It was the occupants.
Four girls. Two on each bed. Three lay as though sleeping. Please, dear Lord, let them be sleeping.
The fourth sat upright with her back braced against the wall. Her hands were folded in her lap, and she was staring at nothing. A long red braid hung over one shoulder.
Eliza knew who had hair that color, which was why she believed she knew exactly who this girl was. Her breath left her in a small, strangled sound. She took a step forward, hardly aware that she was moving.
Fenella.
The girl’s head turned slightly. Her gaze drifted toward Eliza, slid away, then came back with effort.
Eliza’s knees almost gave way. Mungo and his brother had searched London for this girl, and here she was.
Beside her on the bed was another girl, lying motionless in slumber. Could this be Polly Watts?
“What’s wrong with them?” Eliza demanded, turning to glare at the men.
“No questions,” the older man said.
“What have you done to them?”
“None of your business. You’ll have your answers soon enough. I suggest you just enjoy your new accommodation with your new friends.”
“You’ve drugged them, haven’t you?” she snapped. “Bastards,” she hissed.
“You cause trouble, and it’ll go worse for you. Plenty more out there we can bring in,” the younger man said.
“Where? Why am I here?”
“You’ll find out soon enough, Eliza Downing. We’ll be back with something to make you feel better.” He smirked before leaving with the other one.
The door slammed, and the padlock rattled home with a final, hopeless clank. Silence descended as the sound of their footsteps died away.
Eliza stood very still, her heart pounding so hard, she could hear it.
The air in the little room was warmer than the barn, and the scent of laudanum made her want to gag.
Memories of the vivid dreams and hallucinations she’d had through the worst of the pain from her burns filled her head.
She’d vowed never to take it again after the pain had eased.
Slowly, she turned back to the girls.
Fenella watched her with a dazed expression, as if each blink cost her effort. Eliza saw Polly’s fingers twitch where they lay curled in the blanket. The other two, she didn’t know.
“All right,” Eliza said softly, forcing her voice to steady. “All right. You’re safe for now. I’m here.”
Only Fenella heard her, but she did not react.
Safety was a lie, but she needed the thought to cling to. If she let the reality of their situation take hold, she would sink to her knees and weep.
Moving closer to Fenella, she climbed onto the mattress between her and the girl still sleeping.
“You are Fenella Fraser, aren’t you?”
She frowned faintly, as if the question itself pained her. “I am,” she whispered.
“I need you to get off the bed with me now, Fenella. Let me help you.” She managed to drag the girl off and stand her upright. “Let’s walk to the water now.”
“Tired,” Fenella whispered.
Had they kept her here, drugged, since her disappearance? The thought pushed rage through the fear inside her. That was weeks ago.
“I know but if we are to escape, we must rid you of some of your lethargy.”
“No escape,” Fenella slurred.
“Yes, there is,” Eliza said, determined they would do just that. She didn’t know how, but they had to try. “Do you know where you are, Fenella?”
“A barn.”
She talked to her, asking questions that the girl could not yet answer. Eliza saw a jug of water and reached for it. She sniffed it and found it contained milk. Hoping it wasn’t sour, she filled a mug.
“You must drink this now, Fenella.”
The girl obediently took it. She then drank all of it at Eliza’s insistence. She picked up a chunk of stale bread next and forced Fenella to eat that. Lastly, she left her leaning against the table and hurried to the ewer of water. After rinsing out a cloth, she brought it back.
“I’m going to wash your face with this cold cloth now, Fenella.”
“Is it dirty?”
The Scottish burr reminded Eliza of her uncle. Mungo. No, she wouldn’t think about that infuriating man now because the thought of not seeing him again made her feel as if she’d taken a punch to her stomach.
Focus, Eliza.
“Yes.”
She ran the cold cloth over her cheeks and down her neck. Eliza then led the girl to the water and plunged her hands into it.
“Why are you doing this? Who are you?”
Her voice sounded stronger now, more alert.
“My name is Eliza, Fenella, and you must listen to me carefully now. I work with your uncle Mungo at Crabbett Close. Your father came there looking for you.”
“Father.” She pressed a hand to her mouth.
“Yes, and they will find us soon, so we need to help the other girls wake up and be alert. Can you help me do that? I want us to escape on our own if we can. But if not, they will come for us.”
“You work with Uncle Mungo?”
“I do, and he and your father are coming to get you.”
Eliza saw the first spark of hope in the blue eyes then.
“I love Uncle Mungo.”
“He’s grumpy and rude but loyal,” Eliza conceded. He was also very possibly the first man she’d ever had true feelings for, and she wasn’t quite sure why.
Mungo and the Nightingale family would likely know by now that Eliza had not returned to Crabbett Close, but what she didn’t know was if they would search for her. She wasn’t important to them like Fenella was.
Suddenly all the insecurities returned. The feeling of being alone, with no one to care. No, they cared—she had to believe that. They were different from her uncle and the others who had drifted in and out of her life. Mungo cared.
“Can you drink another cup of milk, Fenella?”
“I can.” She sounded determined now.
While she did, Eliza went to study the door. It was sturdy and locked. She ran her fingertips along the join between it and the frame, feeling for any give. There was none.
“We need to get out before they come back with the cups, Eliza.”
Eliza turned sharply. “What cups, Fenella?”
“Little ones. The liquid in them is brown and bitter. It makes us sleep. I don’t want to drink any more now that my head feels clearer. I want to go home now, Eliza.”
“I know you do, but you need to eat more and drink, then start walking around the room, Fenella. It helps, trust me.”
Looking at the other three girls, she didn’t think there was enough time to get them moving before the men came back. If she could at least get Fenella stronger, she’d have help to escape.
She needed a weapon. Even a small one. While Fenella ate and walked, Eliza ran her hands along the walls until she felt a jagged splinter of wood on the end of a loose board. She worked it free. It wasn’t huge, but big enough to cause pain. She tucked it into the pocket of her coat.
The simple act steadied her. She was not entirely helpless now.
“Eliza?”
She turned to see the girl approaching. She looked steadier, but there was still a dazed look in her eyes.
“Yes?”
“Polly and I went for a walk on our last day in London. I was picking flowers when I heard her scream. I ran, reaching her as they were pulling her into a cart. I tried to stop them, but they pulled me in too.”
“It will be all right, Fenella, I promise.”
The girl threw herself at Eliza, and she hugged her close, needing the contact then as much as Fenella did.
“We’re going to get out,” Eliza promised, releasing her. “All of us. I swear it.”
“How?”
Eliza opened her mouth, but before she could speak, she heard the sound of footsteps approaching.
“Get onto the bed and pretend you’re sleeping. Don’t open your eyes or speak. Breathe deeply. Hurry,” Eliza whispered.
The padlock rattled, and the door swung open.
The older man stepped into the room first, carrying a tray on which five small, chipped cups rattled together. A second man followed, his eyes sweeping the area with bored disinterest.
“Time for your medicine, ladies,” the first said. “Help you rest nice and quiet-like. Now, you don’t give me any trouble, Miss Downing, because it will go worse for you if you do.” He grinned, revealing yellowed teeth.
Eliza’s skin crawled, but she made herself widen her eyes, letting her shoulders sag. She moved slightly to one side, as if to get out of his way, forcing her features into something that might pass for compliance.
“Medicine?” she whispered, adding a tremor. “Please… may I have some water first? My throat—”
“You’ll get what you’re given.” He shouldered past her, the tray bumping against her hip.
The other man snorted.
Eliza let herself stagger, catching at the edge of the tray as if to steady herself, and the entire thing fell out of his hands, crashing to the floor.
“Bloody hell!” he swore, jerking it away. “Clumsy little—”
“I’m sorry,” she gasped, retreating. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
The smell that rose was strong, bitter, and familiar.
“Come on, we’ll get more, and you can hold her down while I pour it down her throat this time!”
They left again, slamming the door and locking it. Only when their footsteps faded did Eliza tell Fenella the idea she’d just had.
“Fenella.”
She sat upright.
“Help me. We need to drag the bed against the door, and anything else in here that can stop them getting back into the room.”
Between them they managed to lower Polly and the other girl to the floor, where she could continue to slumber. They then dragged the bed toward the door.
“Hurry, Eliza. They will return soon.”
They got the bed up against the door, then looked around for anything else.
“We need to stand it up and then bring the other bed over,” Eliza said.
It wasn’t easy, but thankfully, it didn’t take long to get the frame upright. Next, they woke the other girl, who was dazed and sluggish. Eliza lowered her to the floor, where she curled into the fetal position and closed her eyes.
“Hurry, Fenella.”
They pushed the bed with all the strength they had and managed to maneuver it to the door. Between them, they led the sleepy girls back to it. She and Fenella then moved around the room, grabbing anything they could find and placing it on the bed.
“They’re coming,” Fenella whispered.
“Lie down in front of the legs,” Eliza said.
When they’d done that, she felt Fenella’s fingers reach for her, and she gripped them tight.
“Mungo,” she whispered, closing her eyes for a heartbeat. In her mind, she saw his face, all hard angles and fierce determination. Find me, you Scottish heathen.
She then braced as the men tried to reenter the room.