Song Of The Nightingale (DeWinter's Song 1) (11 page)

“Her name is Kassidy Maragon, and she disappeared about a month ago.”

Raile, good at schooling his emotions, did not flinch at the mention of the name “Maragon.” “What were the circumstances of her disappearance?” he asked.

Lady Mary wondered how much to confide to the duke. “You see, Abigail died in childbirth. Kassidy was with her at the end. I cannot tell you the guilt I feel for not staying with them until the baby was born. But I thought it was a normal birth.”

“I assume Abigail is Kassidy’s sister?”

Mary nodded hesitantly. “Yes, your grace, she . . . Abigail... died ... and Kassidy has disappeared.”

“Does your niece have flights of fancy?”

“I can assure you she does not. But I can see where you might think my whole family is demented.”

“Not at all,” Raile said graciously. “I believe I have met your niece, Kassidy, Lady Mary. Although at the time, I thought she was Abigail Maragon.” Raile watched Lady Mary’s face closely. “She came here to see me. Do you know anything about that?”

Lady Mary was genuinely shocked. “No. Why would Kassidy do such a thing? You weren’t acquainted, were you?”

“I never met your niece until she arrived with the baby.” Still he watched her face for a reaction. “She left the infant in my care and fled in a curious manner.”

Lady Mary shook her head in relief. “Thank God. I have been so worried about the baby. I am relieved to know that she, at least is safe.” She looked at him carefully. “She is well, isn’t she?”

“I can assure you the baby thrives. She is in the nursery upstairs.”

Lady Mary stared at him. “But why would Kassidy leave the baby with you?” She buried her head in her hands. “What trick is this? Why would she bring . . . unless ... but no you could not be . .. it’s too absurd to consider.”

“I can assure you I did not father the child, Lady Mary.”

She looked at the handsome duke for a long moment. Women by the dozens must fall in love with him. But, of course, he could not be Abigail’s elusive husband. He would have been out of the country when Abigail eloped.

“I just don’t know what to think. Did my niece tell you why she brought the baby to you?”

“She implied that I was the child’s father—or so I thought at the time. I don’t want to alarm you, Lady Mary, but she was not rational.”

“No,” Lady Mary agreed. “She probably wasn’t. She loved Abigail and had to watch her die.” She stood up. “I won’t trouble you any longer. If you will have the baby brought down, I will take her with me. There is no need for you to be involved in this any longer.”

“I am involved, Lady Mary, whether or not I want to be. Have you any notion who fathered Abigail Maragon’s baby?”

“No — do you?”

“I believe so.”

“Then you must tell me at once. Perhaps he can help me find Kassidy.”

“He cannot help you. And I would rather not say who he is at this time. But I assure you that I will help you in this.”

For some reason, she trusted him. “If you will have the baby brought down, I will leave at once.”

“I believe it best that the baby remain here for now. But I will have my housekeeper show you to the nursery so you will know the child is doing well.”

Lady Mary stood. “Does the baby want for anything?”

Raile smiled. “She enjoys the attention of all the servants. My housekeeper, Mrs. Fitzwilliams, is accused of neglecting her household duties because she spends most of the day with the child.”

He summoned Mrs. Fitzwilliams and instructed her to accompany Lady Mary to the nursery. Raile watched Lady Mary follow the housekeeper, who was delivering glowing reports on the baby’s progress.

He turned away, determined to discover what had happened to the high-spirited girl named Kassidy.

13

Like a caged animal, Kassidy paced the cell as far as her chains would allow. She no longer cringed in fear when she heard footsteps outside her cell, for the guard who had locked her in had never returned.

At last, in exhaustion, she leaned against the wall for support. She was getting weaker. She had to have nourishment or she would die.

Twice a day, some nameless, faceless person shoved water and food into the cell—if one could call the watered-down gruel they served in the dirty tin plate, food. As hungry as she was, she could not eat it, but she drank thirstily of the water.

Kassidy dropped down on the filthy mattress, no longer caring that it was bug-infested. She seemed to ache all over, and suddenly felt lightheaded. She was feverish—cold one minute and burning hot the next.

Throughout the day and into the night her fever raged. When the night was its darkest, she began to hallucinate. She could clearly visualize the mocking eyes of the duke and hear him taunting her as clearly as if he were standing in the cell with her. She cried out when she saw the pale lifeless face of her dead sister imploring her to take care of the baby.

Kassidy drew in her breath sharply, as the face of the duke floated before her again, but this time he was not mocking. His eyes were enticing her, pulling at her with a promise of pleasure. His hands touched her arm and slid up to her neck, and she shivered at his gentleness.

“You will not deceive me as you did my sister,” she cried. “I will not give in to you.”

She used all her strength to drive away the vision. Then she was left with only the harsh reality of her cold, empty cell. This was what he had done to her—cast her down in the depths of despair. She would probably die here, and how he would laugh when he learned of her death.

With stubborn determination, Kassidy decided to overcome her delirium. If she was to survive, she had to help herself, for there was no one else.

Weakly, she dragged herself across the filthy floor to the water jug. When she lifted it to her lips and drank deeply, Kassidy was certain that she was dying because it failed to quench her burning thirst.

Raile looked down at the baby nestled against the housekeeper’s ample bosom. “She’s enjoying good health, isn’t she, Fritzy?”

The housekeeper’s brown eyes softened. “That she is, your grace. She’s a good baby and has won everyone’s heart. Poor little motherless thing. She has no name, so we call her Sweetness.”

Raile touched the small hand and was rewarded by the baby curling her tiny hand around his finger. This made him smile. “I never thought much about babies, Fritzy, but this one seems exceptionally beautiful.”

“She is indeed,” Mrs. Fitzwilliams agreed.

Ambrose appeared at the doorway and cleared his throat to get Raile’s attention.

“Begging your pardon, your grace, but there is a ‘person’ asking to see you. He refuses to give his name, but insists you will want to see him.”

Raile extracted his finger from the baby’s grasp and turned to the butler. “Doesn’t it seem of late, Ambrose, that an uncommon number of people have come here asking to see me, and refuse to give their names?”

The butler’s face remained stoic. “It would seem so, your grace.”

“I don’t suppose this man gave his reason for being here.” Raile smiled slightly. “He doesn’t have a baby with him, by any chance?”

If Ambrose was amused, it didn’t show. “No, your grace. He said only that he wanted to talk to you about a certain young lady.”

Raile tensed. “Did he give the lady’s name?”

“No, your grace. I assumed you would not want to speak to him, so I took the liberty of leaving him in the grand hall.”

Raile startled Ambrose when he pushed past him and moved quickly across the corridor and down the stairs.

Jack Beale turned in a circle, looking at the silken hangings on the walls. He had never seen anything so magnificent. He saw neither the tattered tapestries, nor what years of neglect had wrought. He saw only evidence of riches, and he greedily fancied some of it was coming to him.

When Jack heard footsteps, he turned to see a man coming toward him. The butler had let him understand that he should not expect to be received, but the tall aristocratic man who approached him could be none other than the duke of Ravenworth, himself.

“Come with me,” Raile said, indicating that the man should follow him into the library.

Closing the door behind them, Raile faced the man, his eyes searching. “You refused to give the butler your name.”

“Let’s just say I’m an acquaintance of your mother’s, and let it go at that.”

“My mother is dead.”

“I meant to say, your stepmother, the dowager duchess.”

“There is no dowager duchess.”

Jack’s eyes snapped. “I don’t know what game you and your stepma’s playing, but she hired me, and I expect to be paid. There are other people besides you DeWinters who would be interested in our little prisoner at Newgate—and I know who they are.”

Raile felt sick inside as he realized what the man was telling him. Lavinia had hired him to take Miss Maragon to Newgate. He had known his stepmother was capable of trickery, but until now he had not realized how malicious she could be.

He must allow this man to think he knew about Lavinia’s actions so he could learn more. “You placed Miss Maragon in Newgate?”

“I know it wasn’t your stepma’s instructions to take her there, Your Excellency. I didn’t do away with the girl as I was ordered. But she’s done away with all the same and no one’ll ever hear from her again. I want what’s due me, and I’ll just take my leave of you.”

Raile tried to control the rage that was building inside him. The man should be turned over to the magistrate, but if he did that now, he might never find Miss Maragon.

His voice came out evenly without betraying his anger. “Are you well acquainted with my stepmother?”

Jack nodded. “We have an arrangement. When she wants someone out of her way, I oblige her.”

“You have done this for her before?”

Jack’s eyes suddenly became secretive. “I’d rather not say.”

“So my stepmother wanted Miss Maragon dead, and you were willing to oblige her?”

“Not for the money your mother . . . stepmother offered. If you want the girl done away with, it’ll cost you more.” Jack stroked his chin. “’Course, to my way of thinking, it’d be far better to kill the girl than to let her live in that hell pit.”

Raile had to clench his hands to keep from thrashing the man. “So, instead of. . . killing Miss Maragon, you took her to Newgate. You must have someone inside who helped you.”

“If you hire Jack Beale, he gets it done. But I can’t be sure she’s still there. You see, the guard who stowed her away in Newgate talked about selling her to a brothel. I can’t be sure he did, though, ‘cause he was found dead the next morning. Stabbed in the heart, he was.”

Raile felt sick inside—he wanted to slam the man against the wall, but he had to remain calm so he could find out more.

“If I were to look for her, I would start my search in Newgate?”

“If you’re thinking you need to make sure she’s out of your way, I’d put my worry aside. She was of a delicate nature and wouldn’t last long there. I’d say your troubles with Miss Maragon may already be over.”

“Did you send a note to Miss Maragon’s aunt, Lady Mary Rindhold?”

Jack shifted his eyes. “You can understand that I was angry because your mother, er, stepmother hadn’t kept her bargain. I admit sending the letter was a mistake, and I should have come to you right away. But the aunt don’t know where to find the girl, don’t you worry none ‘bout that.” He glanced sideways at the duke. “Least not if I get my money.”

“How much did my . .. stepmother offer you?”

“A hundred pounds. But when my brother went to collect, she claimed she didn’t have the money just yet. You can see as how we got angry.”

Raile looked at the man in disgust. “What made you conclude the woman was my stepmother? Surely she didn’t tell you her name.”

“Ole Jack ain’t the buffoon some people might think. Even if she didn’t give her name, I managed to follow her and find out who she was. And I’m glad I did, so I could come to you and get my money.”

“I, too, am glad you came to me.” Raile moved to his desk and unlocked the drawer and counted out a stack of gold coins.

Returning to the man, he held the money out to him. “I have included an extra fifty pounds, so that in the future, if my stepmother seeks you out, you will immediately come to me before doing her bidding.”

Jack smiled. “That I will, Your Excellency. And may I say it’s a real pleasure doing business with a gentleman like yourself.”

Raile opened the door and spoke to Ambrose. “Escort this gentleman out the back way, and then attend me here. I will require my carriage at once.”

So this was Lavinia’s way of keeping Hugh from a marriage she didn’t want. The irony in this was that Kassidy Maragon was the wrong girl.

14

When the daily gruel was pushed through the hatch, Kassidy barely had the strength to lift it to her mouth. As she gulped it down, it ran down her chin and onto the floor. Determined to get all the nourishment she could, Kassidy scooped it off the grimy floor and licked it off her fingers.

All thoughts of the civilized behavior were forgotten. She had become little more than an animal; her only concern was survival.

Suddenly, a key grated in the lock and the door swung open. Kassidy cowered against the wall as the light from a lantern blinded her. It took a moment for her eyes to focus on the two guards that stood over her. She trembled with relief when she saw neither of them was the man who had locked her in the cell and ravished her.

“Wonder what crime placed her in this hole?” one of the men asked. “Pathetic-looking creature, aren’t she?”

Kassidy’s hand went to her hair. She had always been considered pretty—this man had said she looked pathetic. When she had been abducted, she had been wearing her favorite green gown. Now it was so filthy and tattered, it was difficult to tell what color it was.

“It seems you are something of a trouble to us, girl. We don’t know who you are, or who put you in solitary. We can’t find any records that you even exist.”

Raking her fingers through her tangled hair, Kassidy shook her head, too confused to talk.

“If Tom Brunson knew who you were, he took that knowledge with him to his grave. This whole matter seems odd to me.”

Kassidy blinked her eyes. Was the man saying Brunson was dead? Was that why he never came back to torment her?

“Well, she’s in a bad way and might die if we leave her here,” the second guard observed. “I’m going to move her to the women’s cells until we can find out about her.”

Kassidy tried to concentrate on what the men were saying. Why did they think she might die? Was she that ill? She tried to stand, but her legs wouldn’t hold her weight.

One of the men bent and unlocked her chains, and they fell to the floor with a clatter. Kassidy rubbed her raw wrists, with hope in her heart. Perhaps they were going to free her!

“What’s your name, girl?” the guard demanded. “And it won’t do you no good to lie.”

“Kassidy Maragon,” she managed to say, watching him write in a ledger. “I was incarcerated by mistake. I have done no wrong. Please let me out of here.”

Both men laughed. “To hear them tell it, no one in here has done anything wrong. If any of you are to be believed, the criminals are on the streets, while the innocent are enjoying the hospitality of Newgate.”

Kassidy knew she would get no help from either of these men. Their eyes were cold, and they looked through her rather than at her.

One of the guards took Kassidy’s wrists and pulled her to her feet. She teetered until she leaned against the wall to get her balance.

“You better be able to walk if you want out of here,” the man warned. “We don’t intend to carry you.” He motioned for her to follow him.

Clasping the iron bars for support, she inched her way out of the cell, fearing they would change their minds and leave her behind. She didn’t breathe easy until she was out of the cell and the door was closed behind her.

She weakly plodded behind them, using the wall to help her stay erect. They passed through a damp, ill-lit maze, until they came to a stairway leading upward. Kassidy gripped the wooden rails—each step she took was agony.

Too weak to go on, Kassidy stumbled and fell, only to have the guard yank her up and forcefully slam her against the wall. There was cruelty in the man’s eyes as he growled at her impatiently and shoved a wooden club into her ribs until she cried out in pain. He then brought the club down hard against her head, and she felt herself falling.

When he motioned for her to stand she quickly complied. At last they came to a large anteroom where women and children were wandering around aimlessly.

“Wait over there until we know what to do with you.” The guard pointed to the corner with his club. “And stay away from the others.”

Not wanting to be struck again, Kassidy pressed her body into the corner, sliding down the wall to sit on the cold floor. Her shoulders shook, and she bit her lips to keep her teeth from chattering.

When the prisoners in the room were herded back to their cells, no one paid the slightest attention to Kassidy. She looked at the door that stood open, knowing she was too weak to attempt to escape. Evidently, the guards had known that, too. She lowered her head, too weary to care.

A shadow fell across her face and she looked up to find a guard standing over her. “Come on, girl. You’re still a mystery to us. But we’ll find out about you.”

Kassidy stood on wobbly legs and followed him as he unlocked the iron gate and led her down a long corridor to a large cell occupied by several women. Shoving her inside, he slammed and locked the door behind her.

Weakly, she moved to the corner and dropped down on one of the straw mats. She wanted to be left alone, to fall asleep and never awaken.

“Name’s Elspeth O’Neill,” one of the girls said, offering Kassidy a cup of water, which she gladly accepted. After a moment, she was able to catch her breath.

The Irish girl had light brown hair, and her face was covered with freckles. She was the first human being who had shown Kassidy kindness since she had come to this horrible place, and it brought tears to her eyes.

“I’m Kassidy Maragon,” Kassidy said weakly.

“You don’t look good to me,” Elspeth said, placing her hand on Kassidy’s forehead and finding it hot to the touch. “Here.” She raised a cup to Kassidy’s lips. “Have another drink of water. Tain’t much, but it’ll help some.”

“Thank you,” Kassidy said, drinking deeply.

“I can tell by the way you talk all fancy, that you be a lady born and fostered. What crime could you have done to be placed in this hell?”

Kassidy remembered her foolish attempt in trying to convince the guards of her innocence. She decided no one would believe the truth, but she would try to explain to Elspeth O’Neill. “I’m here,” she said in a voice that trembled with emotion, “because I offended the wrong person.”

“It matters not why you’re here,” Elspeth said philosophically. “They’d as soon hang you for the theft of a crust of bread as for stealing the crown jewels.”

Kassidy felt cold inside, remembering what had happened to her at the hands of Tom Brunson. She would bury that deep within her mind. It was too painful to think about.

“It’s imperative that I get out of here, Elspeth. There is something I must do.”

“If you had wings you could fly, but seeing as you don’t, you’re doomed to serve out the sentence the court gave you.”

Kassidy shook her head in misery. “I had no trial—no judge passed sentence on me.” She looked into Elspeth’s clear blue eyes. “I don’t expect you to believe me, but it’s the truth.”

Elspeth spoke after a long silence. “I believe you.” She lowered her voice. “How long you been here?”

“I.. . don’t know. Would you know the date?”

Elspeth bit her lower lip in concentration. “I’d say it’s right around July sixth, mayhaps the seventh. No later than that I don’t ‘spect.”

“My God.” Kassidy sobbed in despair, burying her face in her hands. “I was abducted on May twentieth. How long have you been here, Elspeth?”

“It’s almost five years now. But it seems like I’ve always been here. My ma was widowed early and left with seven of us to feed. I had to help out by selling gingerbread in the streets. As soon as I was old enough, I was put to work as an apprentice to a jeweler. I didn’t know the man was selling pilfered jewels. ‘Course that didn’t make no difference in the end. The magistrate said I was guilty all the same. 1 have only three months left to serve, and I’ll be glad to be rid of this place.”

“There’s no hope for me, Elspeth. Most probably I’ll die in here.”

“Don’t lose hope. If you do, you will die.” Elspeth frowned when she saw the deep gash in Kassidy’s head. “Who done that to you?”

“A guard.”

Elspeth wet a rag and dabbed at the wound. “When I’m free, I’ll go directly to your family and tell them you’re here. They’ll get you out.”

Kassidy felt hope stir to life within her. “Oh, Elspeth, would you do that for me?”

“I’d do that and more. You put me in mind of my youngest sister, and being wrongly jailed myself, I know what you’re feeling.”

Kassidy tried to rise but fell back.

“You got what’s called gaol distemper. I got it when I first come here. Took months to get well. Just when I thought I was well, it would return.” Elspeth lifted a spoon of thin gruel to Kassidy’s lips. “With only this slop to eat,” she said in disgust, “it’s hard to recover.”

Every fourth day the inmates were ordered outside to walk in the courtyard. Once there, Kassidy drew in a breath of fresh air and gloried in feeling the sun on her upturned face. She listened to the hawkers in the street offering food to those who could pay. She watched the miserable press of humanity with their hands groping through the bars to passersby, begging for food.

How far she had fallen. She did not even have the price of a crust of bread. But she was too proud to beg for food—she would rather starve first. Her dignity had been sorely tested, but pride raged within her.

Hunger tightened the muscles of her stomach. With each indignity she suffered, Kassidy’s resolve only became stronger to one day leave this place and confront the duke who had had her confined to this hell.