Chapter 37
Charlotte stirred slowly, her limbs heavy, her mind thick with fog, and her mouth dry as sandpaper. Male voices echoed faintly somewhere in the distance. Her wrists were bound behind her with strips of rough cloth, whilst a blindfold obscured most of her vision.
She could feel the cold earthen floor beneath her. Dampness seeped through her thin cotton dress and into her bones.
The air smelled foul and musky.
Charlotte lay crumpled upon the ground, dread pounding steadily in her chest.
Mrs Wilberforce was an Odd Fellow.
And the Captain—the very man she had nearly trusted with her life—
Even now, Charlotte could scarcely comprehend it.
How? Why?
But there was no time for questions.
Carefully, she rubbed her head against the ground, inching the blindfold downward until it loosened enough to slip.
Success.
With one eye uncovered, she slowly surveyed her surroundings.
She was inside a cage fashioned of iron bars. A heavy padlock secured the narrow door.
Beyond it stretched rows of identical cages, each containing girls. Bound. Gagged. Some weeping softly.
Massive stone walls enclosed the chamber, whilst thick wooden beams crossed overhead. There were no windows. No trace of natural light.
Only a single lantern burned dimly in the corner, casting distorted shadows across the floor.
Charlotte’s stomach twisted as she realised this was where they kept their victims, before transporting them elsewhere.
‘Sarah?’ she whispered hoarsely, straining to see into the neighbouring cages.
No answer.
Panic tightened her chest. Was Sarah here—or someplace else entirely?
What if—
She nearly sobbed aloud.
‘Sarah?’ she called again, louder this time.
Relief flooded through her as her eyes adjusted enough to make out Sarah’s small figure curled upon the floor nearby, beginning to stir awake.
‘Miss Lucas?’ came another frightened yet familiar voice farther down the row.
‘Lucy?’
Shock and relief swept through Charlotte in equal measure. She could scarcely believe she found her too.
But they were all trapped together with no means of escape.
‘They caught you too, Miss Lucas,’ Lucy whispered miserably.
Sarah had fully awakened now, and the panic in her voice told Charlotte all she needed to know.
‘Are they going to kill us?’
‘No, dearest,’ Charlotte said quickly, forcing calm into her voice. ‘If they intended to kill us, they would already have done so. I think they mean to transport us somewhere. We must find a way out before that happens.’
‘Lord Stanley will come for us, will he not?’ Sarah whispered shakily. ‘He will look for us?’
Charlotte’s heart sank.
‘Of course,’ she lied.
How could she explain that Mrs Wilberforce had likely already forged some convincing story? Perhaps she had claimed Charlotte willingly eloped with the Captain. Lord Stanley might even believe it.
After all, Charlotte had never truly told him her feelings had changed.
Even the cipher was burned by Mrs Wilberforce.
Her breath caught sharply.
But no—it no longer mattered. The black book remained with Lord Stanley whilst she was imprisoned here.
No one was coming.
She would have to save herself—and everyone else besides.
Charlotte forced herself to draw a steadying breath and scanned the gloomy cellar once more, searching desperately for anything that might prove useful.
Then her gaze caught upon a rusted nail protruding from one of the iron bars.
Very carefully, Charlotte turned her back towards it and began sawing the cloth around her wrists against the sharp edge.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Sweat gathered along her brow.
At last, the cloth frayed and snapped.
Her hands came free.
Before she could move any farther, footsteps echoed from outside.
A wooden door creaked open at the far end of the chamber.
Charlotte instantly lay back down, loosely gathering the severed cloth around her wrists once more.
‘Well, well, Miss Walker. Awake at last.’
Even before he stepped fully into the lantern light, she recognised the Captain’s smooth voice.
Revulsion twisted sharply within her.
‘You shall not escape this,’ she said steadily. ‘Lord Stanley will uncover the truth eventually. You cannot simply return to Alderley now, Falcon.’
His brows rose slightly at the mention of his code name.
‘Oh, clever girl,’ he said with a low chuckle. ‘Yes, I am Falcon. And do not distress yourself, darling. I have many countries available to me. I have simply decided England no longer suits my tastes.’
His voice had changed entirely now. The warmth and charm were gone, replaced by something crueller. Rougher. Dangerous.
So it truly had all been an act.
‘What do you want from me?’ Charlotte demanded.
He stepped fully into the cage.
‘Several things, actually.’
He reached out and stroked her cheek.
Charlotte jerked violently away.
‘Do not touch me.’
He laughed softly.
‘You need not fear that. I trade in untouched girls, and you, my dear, shall start quite the bidding frenzy in France. I possess acquaintances in very elevated circles there.’
His mouth curved unpleasantly.
‘You shall keep me in luxury for quite some time, I think. Though I confess, you have teased me dreadfully these past weeks.’
Without warning, he seized her shoulders and dragged her towards him.
Charlotte spat directly into his face.
He struck her hard and fast in response.
Pain exploded across her cheek, but she refused to cry out. Refused even to acknowledge it.
She merely lifted her gaze and stared at him with contempt.
His handsome features twisted into something ugly.
‘Your precious Lord Stanley shall cease to be a problem very shortly,’ he sneered. ‘Thanks to dear Minerva. She has agreed to poison him once he returns from Manchester.’
Charlotte felt the blood drain from her face. As much as she despised Mrs Wilberforce, she still struggled to believe she would truly harm her own brother.
‘She had ample opportunity before. Why now?’
He shrugged carelessly.
‘Not for want of trying. But the man has become exceedingly cautious.’
He laughed again—that same laugh she had once found charming now sounded hollow.
‘Perhaps Stanley, once he learns of your betrayal, will finally lower his guard.’
Charlotte’s mind reeled.
‘He will never believe I would simply elope like that—not whilst the threat of the Odd Fellows still remains.’
‘Are you quite certain of that, my darling?’ he asked smoothly. ‘We did a remarkably good job creating a rift between you at the ball.’
Charlotte recoiled in disbelief.
‘That is right,’ he continued, watching comprehension dawn across her face.
‘I waited until Stanley was close enough to overhear, then carefully chose words that could easily be misconstrued as you agreeing to meet me in secret. Meanwhile, Minerva poisoned his ear with tales of your supposed disgust towards his religion and your preference for me.’
‘No...’
The scenes at the ball suddenly rearranged themselves in Charlotte’s mind—Lord Stanley’s abrupt coldness, the unmistakable shift in his manner after she danced with the Captain. At last, it all made dreadful sense.
‘You should have seen his face. The poor man was crushed,’ he said with a chuckle.
They had orchestrated it all deliberately so Lord Stanley would believe she harboured feelings for the Captain.
Charlotte’s heart twisted painfully. Perhaps Lord Stanley did love her after all. Hope rose within her—only to be crushed a moment later.
The knowledge had come far too late.
Then the Captain’s eyes darkened.
‘But what I require now is the black book. Minerva intends to retrieve it from her brother’s conveniently dead body. And you, my darling, shall set sail with me at dawn and vanish so completely it will be as though you never existed.’
‘What use is the book without the cipher?’ she pressed quickly. ‘It is worthless unless someone can read it.’
For the first time, genuine interest flickered across his face.
Charlotte seized upon it immediately.
‘Spare Lord Stanley,’ she whispered desperately. ‘And I shall go with you willingly.’
‘I am afraid that is too great a risk. There are ways the book might yet be deciphered—even without the cipher itself. I would rather not leave such matters to chance.’
‘I believe Minerva has enough laudanum remaining for one final cup of tea with her dear brother,’ he said with a smirk.
Charlotte’s stomach turned. She would not beg; there was no point. She swallowed a sob.
‘You both killed Mrs Dent,’ she whispered, as the events of the last few weeks finally fell into place.
‘Correct.’
His smile widened.
‘They worked together beautifully, scouting vulnerable girls from workhouses and nearby estates for me.’
He reached to touch her face again, and Charlotte flinched instinctively.
‘But once you began suspecting her... well. She had to be dealt with. A pity, really. Old Dent was extremely useful.’
‘Why did you enter Tom’s room that night?’
He gave a low, amused laugh.
‘Governesses are rather a weakness of mine, I confess. Miss Locke amused me for a time, but eventually I grew tired of her. I wanted you. Shame your maid was sleeping there that evening, otherwise I would already have collected you.’
A cold shiver swept through Charlotte. So he had intended to abduct her all along. He spoke of girls as though they were curiosities to be acquired and discarded at whim.
‘You are vile,’ Charlotte hissed. ‘How can you do this to innocent girls?’
His expression barely altered.
‘I did not create this enterprise,’ he replied lightly. ‘It existed long before me, darling. I merely inherited it... improved it... expanded it into something far grander.’
He sounded proud.
Charlotte forced herself to remain calm.
‘Your empire is collapsing,’ she said steadily. ‘Lord Stanley and the Bow Street Runners are already close to destroying your organisation.’
The Captain merely shrugged.
‘Enough of us remain to rebuild.’
Before she could speak again, he yanked the blindfold firmly back over her eyes.
Then he left the cage.