Chapter 23
Georgina sat on the cold stone bench, her head resting against the wall as she stared into the darkness and huddled her cloak around her.
The basement holding cell in which they had confined her offered no warmth and minimal light from two guttering candles on the guard’s table down the hall.
The cell stank of urine; unsurprising, given that it lacked facilities or even a useful commode for the detainees.
She opted not to think too much about the occasional scurrying movements in the darkness but shifted intermittently, lest she become the target of an inquisitive rodent.
The officers had removed all her effects, so she soon lost track of the hours without her fob watch.
She felt bereft without it, her one piece of Henry, and had even begged them to allow her to keep it.
Her entreaties—first whispered, then shouted—were met only with the cold silence of indifference.
Clearly the Magistrate had other matters of importance to deal with today, as the wait seemed interminable.
Her stomach grumbled audibly, but she supposed she should be grateful for the cup of pale, lukewarm tea Harrison had brought her in a chipped, stained cup sometime earlier. It had been something, at least.
Georgina was glad Joshua had managed to escape.
She suspected most of the London Magistrates would know him already from his prior life on the streets, and obtaining a fortunate outcome for him may have proven difficult.
She wondered where he had run off to and hoped that he had not been so alarmed by the Runners that he would disappear completely.
The irony of the entire situation struck her.
Her friend Edmund, who had been responsible for Arthur’s downfall by introducing him to Solitaires in the first place, had lost interest in the affair.
He was completely distracted, having decided he was in love with Mr Dalrymple, a young man she was convinced favoured ladies.
She could only have faith that he would follow through with her directions.
At present, there was no way to find out.
And here she was, in jail after being pursued to her doorstep by a nasty footpad, with a bruised neck and aching shoulder for her trouble.
She regretted having managed matters clumsily.
Arthur still did not have his IOUs, he could not propose to Lady Maggie, and his situation grew more dire with every day that lapsed.
She rubbed her hands together. The sooner she extricated herself from this scrape, the sooner she could return home to rectify matters.
Maybe, if she could rescue Arthur, the crushing weight of her guilt over Henry would finally fade. And perhaps Georgina would somehow find peace without the eternal assistance of alcohol and debauchery. Her mind flashed again to Joshua, and her heart gave a tender squeeze.
Georgina sat in silent reflection until, at last, the sound of rattling keys and clanking doors suggested something might be about to happen. She heard the distinct accent of Harrison, the less engaging of the Runners who had brought her in, together with a softer, feminine voice.
She sat forward, puzzled at which female of her acquaintance might come to her aid at such a time.
While Georgina could certainly rely upon Sarah to assist her, how would she possibly have learned of her plight?
It had not occurred to Georgina to send Sarah or Colt a message begging for assistance.
Now that she found herself detained in Bow Street, Georgina wished to spare her dearest friends the indignity of finding her thus imprisoned.
The answer to Georgina’s question arrived quickly. Harrison shepherded none other than Mrs Gardner into the hall outside her prison cell. She wore a floral print day dress and a simple straw bonnet tied under her chin with a ribbon.
Mrs Gardner smiled at Harrison and asked him for a few -moments’ privacy.
As he complied, Georgina contemplated insisting that he remain but had no intention of providing Mrs Gardner with any sense of satisfaction beyond what her present indignity already afforded.
Mrs Gardner turned back to Georgina and peered inquisitively between the bars, much like a child would look at a curiosity behind a circus cage.
“Goodness me, how difficult this must be for you, Miss Pace. For one so used to the finer things in life. And to liberty.”
“What do you want?”
“A social call, my dear. To check on your wellbeing.”
Georgina stood up from the bench and walked over to the bars. She curled her fingers around them. “Forgive me, I had the impression from last night that my wellbeing was not of paramount importance to you.”
Mrs Gardner gave a stiff little smile. “You seem determined to meddle in affairs that do not pertain to you, Miss Pace.”
“I will meddle in affairs that require meddling, and you will not stop me.”
Closing the gap between them, Mrs Gardner’s gaze sharpened and did not waver. Georgina recognised the burning determination. What spark drove this fire? Her purpose was personal.
Mrs Gardner lowered her voice. “This is beyond the both of us, Miss Pace. I beseech you, most earnestly, to let well enough alone. Do as you have been asked and allow that to be the end of it.”
Georgina detected a tremble in Mrs Gardner’s breath. So, she too was afraid.
“I think we both know that it will not be. I suspect I only know a little of what is really going on, and it sickens me.” She paused, holding Mrs Gardner’s gaze. “Did you know about Henry?”
As the colour drained from Mrs Gardner’s face, she failed to supply an answer.
The muscle clenched in Georgina’s cheek as she glared in disgust. “I’ve a mind to inform that Runner Harrison about your little soirees when he comes to escort you out and be done with it.”
“That would not be wise,” Mrs Gardner said quickly.
“I hope you will not remain incarcerated for too long, my dear. If something happens to me, I suspect your troubles will escalate. Not only do you have to worry about poor Mr Coombes, but think about your dear Papa. He will surely miss you not being there to look after him.”
Rage coursed through Georgina, and she slammed both hands against the bars, making the steel rattle. “If either of them is harmed . . .” she growled. Arthur might have been safe for now, but her father had no one to protect him while she was locked up.
Mrs Gardner stepped back, and the door swung open as Harrison tumbled back into the room with a curse. “What the blazes is going on?”
“My guest is leaving.”
To Georgina’s relief, Harrison bundled Mrs Gardner out of the room.
She paced up and down the cell. When would this damned Magistrate see her?
Mrs Gardner’s associates clearly had no issue with resorting to violence, and Georgina feared for the safety of both Arthur and her father.
Where she had been content to sit patiently before, she now did not want to risk being away from her house a moment longer than necessary.
She needed to resolve the matter, once and for all.
***
After walking what felt like several miles inside her rather confined space, Georgina collapsed back onto the bench again. She curled over on the cool stone and closed her eyes.
She awoke sometime later to the sound of keys unbolting the door once more. Two voices speaking in hushed tones echoed down the stone stairs. Finally, Harrison and Gibbs came into view between the cell bars.
Harrison placed the key in the lock, turning it. The door swung open, and he stood back, gesturing for Georgina to exit.
She stood up and stretched, giving a little yawn. “Should I expect a Hanging Magistrate?” she asked whimsically, following them out into the hall.
“As it happens, Miss Pace, you are in luck. Someone of consequence has intervened on your behalf, and you are free to go.”
“Ah, nepotism at its best!” Georgina approved. “That must be rather irritating for you,” she sympathised. “Should I decline whatever favour has been called in and face my due punishment?”
Harrison gave her a puzzled look, but Gibbs almost smiled.
“Your benefactress is awaiting you in a carriage out the front,” Gibbs informed, as they reached the top of the stairs.
Harrison handed her a small bundle of her belongings.
Another mystery lady. Almost certainly Sarah, this time.
Georgina took the items, holding the fob watch tenderly for a moment before restoring everything to her pockets.
She extended her hand to Gibbs. “It really was a misunderstanding,” she said, bestowing one of her rarer smiles on him. “I favour gibbets to spikes.”
With a glint in his eyes, he shook her hand and allowed her to walk past him and out of the building.
***
An enclosed carriage with a grand crest emblazoned on the side panel awaited her.
Four beautifully matched black horses marked time, steadied by a liveried coachman.
A groom held the door open for Georgina.
Of all the people to come to her rescue, it had to have been Elizabeth.
She wavered for a moment before climbing in.
“Still only ‘somewhat wayward’?” Georgina asked with a grim little smile, as she positioned herself on the bench seat opposite to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth stared out into the road. Her expression conveyed no amusement.
“I believe I have fallen from grace, after all,” Georgina went on. “I did warn you.” The carriage swayed as it moved off down the street.
“Do you think I enjoy coming to places such as this?” Elizabeth demanded, finally looking at her. Her gray eyes pierced Georgina. “I have rarely been obliged to use my position and consequence for something so appalling.”
Georgina shrank into the seat, quelled by the weight of Elizabeth’s disappointed gaze. She resisted the urge to point out she had not begged for help in the matter.
“Most degrading for you, I agree.”
Elizabeth’s eyes flashed. “Heads on spikes?”