Authors: Saralynn Hoyt
Alice couldn’t imagine a time that she wouldn’t want to talk
to her Papa. She missed him so much. Even though he hadn’t been home often at
night when he was still alive, every afternoon before he left the house he had
come up to see her. And almost weekly he would bring her a present. Silly
things like ribbons, or candy, but each item had meant the world to Alice.
She looked around the schoolroom one last time before
heading off to her old bedroom. It was still made up, neat as a pin and Alice
decided that maybe if she just laid her head on her pillow for a bit, she might
remember what Nurse’s secret was. Soon though, Alice was dozing off and
dreaming of playing in the park with Papa while clutching the rag doll tight to
her breast.
****
Sabrina awoke with a start, trying to figure out where she
was. Then the memories of how she’d come to be asleep on a filthy, paltry
mattress assailed her. She quickly reached for the candle nub and lit it with
one of her remaining two matches. She had the knife still, but she doubted
whether she had the skill to wield it against the men who held her captive.
After all, it was only a knife meant for carving up meat. But as she looked
again at the pile of items she’d salvaged, an idea began to form on how she
might use them to plot her escape.
****
Alice woke from a pleasant dream about kittens and candy.
She rubbed her eyes and looked around the familiar bedroom. Then she heard her
father’s voice in her head.
"Pumpkin, did you find the secret yet?"
"Oh, Papa, I fell asleep. I’m sorry." Alice
worried that she had made a terrible mistake.
"That’s all right, darling," Papa said soothingly.
"But it’s time to go. Mr. Northcliffe and his friend should be arriving
soon, but I need you to get out of the house before they get here. You’re in
danger if you stay."
"Okay, Papa," Alice said, popping one of the
peppermints into her mouth. "But how do I get out? The ugly man locked me
in."
"The secret, Alice. Find the secret."
Alice frowned, concentrating on her time spent with Nurse.
It had something to do with the coal, she was certain. Getting up, she went to
the stove again and looked into the bin. She even picked up the bucket hoping
it would jog her memory.
"Oh, Papa, I just can’t remember."
"You’re so close, Pumpkin."
Alice spun around in a circle, looking, looking, thinking,
trying to remember. The coal, or maybe the stove? No, she was certain it was
the coal. What about the coal? Why would the coal be important? Unless, of
course! That was it. The coal chute! But that didn’t make any sense. The coal
chute went from the back of the house down to the cellar, not up. Then she
remembered, it wasn’t the chute, it was the bin. No, it was something under the
coal bin itself. Alice walked over to the big box and gave it a shove. It moved
slightly to the right, so she pushed again in that direction. The whole thing
moved as if it was on hinges. Stepping back, Alice’s mouth opened in surprise.
She nearly squealed with excitement, but she remembered the ugly man outside
the door and covered her mouth. There was a hidden staircase under the coal bin
and Alice remembered now that Nurse had told her it was built by her great,
great, great Grand Papa during the Napoleonic wars. He had been worried about
an invasion and wanted to make sure that his children would be able to hide or
escape if anything bad happened.
It was pretty dark down there, so Alice went to find a lamp.
She lit it with matches that were by the stove. Mummy didn’t like her playing
with matches, and she hoped this one time she wouldn’t get in trouble for it.
Alice started down the dark stairwell, pulling the bin back into place behind
as her father instructed. She was a little scared. After all, there might be
spiders and rats in there. But her Papa assured her that everything was going
to be fine now. She felt safer knowing he was with her. At the bottom of the
steps, she found a door. She pressed her ear to it, trying to hear what was on
the other side.
"Should I open it, Papa?" she whispered.
"Not quite yet," her father whispered back. Then a
few minutes later. "Okay, now it’s safe, but be very quiet. It opens into
the pantry. I want you to find the key to the backdoor and then leave through
the kitchen. Mr. Northcliffe and his friend will be waiting at the end of the
alley."
"Okay, Papa," Alice said, slowly pushing the
hidden door open and looking around.
She found the key where Cook used to keep it, hanging on a
string above the potato bin. Then she tiptoed through the kitchen and out the
back door. Since her uncle had made all the servants leave, no one would be the
wiser that she had even been there. Outside it was cold and the snow was
falling. Alice didn’t have her coat or a hat or even her soft mittens. But the
snow reminded her that Christmas would be here any day now. She shivered with
both cold and excitement as she ran down the street looking for the man who
Papa had promised her would be her new father.
Sabrina could hear someone at the door jingling keys. She
was ready for Cal as soon as he pushed the door open. Raising the broken chair
leg high over her head, she waited for the man to enter the room halfway before
bringing it down against the side of his head. He fell to the ground groaning, but
before she had a chance to hit him again, Gerald filled the empty doorway.
"That wasn’t very smart," he said, waving a gun at
Cal’s inert form. "I thought you were an intelligent woman, Sabrina."
She contemplated briefly about using her weapon to disarm
Gerald, but her intention must have been clear to him.
"Drop it, my dear or I’ll call up the stairs to Scar
and my sweet niece will feel the pain of your stupidity." Gerald looked
down at his guard. "I hope you didn’t do permanent damage. Good help is so
difficult to find. Ah well, some things can’t be helped. Get yourself together
Cal, I need you upstairs. The vicar will have to entertain himself for a few
minutes now while I watch you get dressed."
"Get dressed?" Sabrina asked, holding her hands
over her torn gown.
"Yes," he answered then tossed a gown to her. "It
wouldn’t do for a man of the cloth to believe you weren’t willingly marrying
me. We want Vicar Edmonds to see a happy bride. And if he should even remotely
discern anything else, only Alice will be the one to suffer today."
Sabrina choked on her tears as she held the dress against
her chest. She couldn’t put her child in anymore danger, she wouldn’t. Even if
she had to marry Gerald to keep Alice safe, she would do so.
"Get dressed, Sabrina."
Gerald grinned at her in a way that made bile rise in her
throat. He waved the gun at her as if to hurry her along. Obviously, he wasn’t
going to give Sabrina any privacy. Keeping her eyes locked on the pistol, she
changed as quickly as she could.
"Next time," he said, laughing lasciviously, "there
won’t be any need to rush so."
****
Rubbing the bridge of his nose before putting his glasses
back on, Ford listened to Lord Suffolk drone on about the legal ramifications
of breaking into the Tremaine household.
"By the way," O’Neill suddenly asked. "Why do
you believe the psychic now?"
"I don’t, exactly," Ford said, wondering if that
was still true. "I just know that Gerald Tremaine is in danger of losing a
fortune that he’s already killed once for. Sabrina and Alice are in trouble
just by their very existence. If Madame Lou is right only once in her
metaphysical career, then I need to do something."
"Yes, I see your point," O’Neill sat back in the
luxuriously appointed carriage and took a drink from a silver brandy flask. "So,
what’s our next move? I could ring the front bell while you sneak about back.
I’ll say I’m calling to do business. What sort of company is he running again?"
"Import export, I think," Ford answered vaguely,
looking up and down the street while trying to figure out how to proceed.
"Yes, of course. I need some French brandy and maybe a
bit of that lovely Spanish Port." Lord Suffolk took another sip while he
contemplated purchasing more liquor.
"Don’t be ridiculous," Ford chastised his friend. "Men
of your standing do not conduct their own business."
"Hmmm, of course you’re right." O’Neill seemed
miffed by the realization. "Don’t see why not," he muttered. "It’s
not as if I have much else to do with my time. No wonder ennui is such a
problem with the peerage. Poor people certainly aren’t bored." O’Neill
sighed as if he regretted his status, and then abruptly changed the subject. "By
the way, who was that enchanting gel who approached us outside the club? Miss
Blakemore did you say?"
"Cassiopeia Blakemore," Ford said absently.
O’Neill choked on his brandy. "Are you all right?"
"I just wonder how in the world she was named after a
celestial constellation," Suffolk commented. "You were saying?"
"She works at the agency that places genteel women in
jobs. If it wasn’t for Miss Blakemore and her mother, I never would have met
Sabrina."
"That’s an odd sort of business," O’Neill
muttered. "And her proximity to Madame Lou strikes me as suspicious too."
"Don’t be absurd," Ford said, scoffing at his
friend’s observation. "One has nothing to do with the other."
"Maybe not," Lord Suffolk admitted reluctantly.
"What in the world?" Ford exclaimed, opening the
black lacquered door and stepping out into the snow. "I can’t believe my
eyes."
"What is it, old chap?" O’Neill sat up and stuck
his head out the window. "It looks like a child, a little girl. I say, is
that Miss Alice then?"
"Yes, yes it’s my darling Alice." Ford ran down
the snowy alley towards the little girl.
She held her arms outstretched towards Ford and he
immediately scooped her up into his embrace. He cuddled her close bringing her
back to the carriage then he wrapped a warm blanket around her shivering form.
Thank the Lord she was all right. Ford held her tight, marveling at the well of
emotion that filled him. His love for Alice had grown to the point where he
could no longer imagine his life without her sweet smile and shining eyes.
"My dear child, where have you been? How in bloody hell—I
mean—how in the world did you get here?" Ford asked, rubbing her small
hands and feet until the color returned to her cheeks.
"I escaped from Uncle Gerry and his mean looking
friends," Alice said, in a matter of fact tone. "But Mummy is still
locked up in our house. We have to go back and get her. Uncle Gerry hurt her
already."
"How did you escape, Alice?" Ford asked, trying to
keep his voice even. Just the thought of Gerald Tremaine harming Sabrina made
him want to beat the man within an inch of his worthless life.
"Oh, there was a secret passage under the coal bin. I
sneaked right out into the pantry. And since Uncle Gerry told all his servants
to take the rest of the week off, there wasn’t anyone around to stop me. See,"
she held out a key on a string. "I even took the key so you can get back
inside and rescue Mummy. Papa said you would."
"Papa?" O’Neill asked, looking confused. "I
thought her father had passed on?"
"Oh yes, Papa went to heaven some time ago," Alice
said with a sweet smile aimed at her new acquaintance. "But he still talks
to me all the time. He says Mr. Northcliffe is going to take care of us from
now on."
O’Neill’s eyebrows shot toward the roof at that revelation.
"Alice," Ford said, changing the subject on
purpose. "This is Lord Suffolk, but everyone calls him O’Neill."
"Pleased to meet you, Miss Alice."
Lord Suffolk affected a seated bow for the young girl. She
giggled and was able to execute a curtsey in the cramped carriage.
"There, now that you’ve officially met, you can spend
some time together." Ford took the key from Alice’s small fist and stepped
back out of the vehicle. "You say there’s no one about except your uncle,
his friends and your mother. And exactly how many friends?"
"Two, and one of them is very ugly," Alice said in
a serious tone. "I think Uncle Gerry also has a vicar coming over soon."
"That must have been the carriage we saw parked in
front," Ford commented absently. "Damn, I hope we’re not too late."
"You shouldn’t keep swearing in front of the child,"
O’Neill said, as if he were entirely innocent of such things.
"Papa says they aren’t married yet, but you’ll have to
make haste if you want to stop the vows." Alice said urgently. "Please
hurry, I don’t want Uncle Gerry to be my papa. I want you to be my new papa."
Ford snapped his head up at that. "I want that too,
very much." He gazed at the little girl longingly then gave her a quick
kiss on her forehead before dashing off down the street. But before he’d got
half a block he spun around and rushed back to Lord Suffolk’s barouche. "Take
Alice to Madame Lou’s, then find some help. Preferably the constable. Hurry! I
don’t know what I’m up against."
"Do you have a weapon?" O’Neill asked casually,
lifting a dark brow as if it were an ordinary question.
"No, I’ll have to find something when I get there. I’m
sure there are knives in the kitchen and pokers near the stoves."
"Don’t be daft," O’Neill said, reaching behind his
seat. "They keep the knives locked up. You really should talk to your
servants occasionally. And a poker is so unwieldy. Here, take my pistol. I keep
them on hand for jaunts to the country. Never know when one may be detained by
highwaymen."
"Appreciate it," Ford said, putting the gun in his
coat pocket.
"You do know how to use it, don’t you?" Suffolk
asked, looking as if he didn’t quite believe Ford would.