Read Shattered Dreams Online

Authors: Rebecca King

Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #mystery, #historical fiction, #historical romance, #romantic mystery, #historical mystery, #romantic adventure

Shattered Dreams (8 page)

There
was enough to pay for a room overnight, but it would take a large
chunk of the money. She could just about afford a meal, and would
have some money left over, but had no idea if she would have enough
to purchase a ticket on the next post chaise out of town like Mr
Tingay had suggested.


You alright, dearie?” an old woman asked as she took a seat
beside her.

Tilly
looked at the old woman. “I am fine, thank you,” she replied
woodenly.


Not from around ‘ere are you?” the old woman tittered. “Take
a word, dearie,” the woman added conspiratorially as she tapped
Tilly’s forearm.

Tilly
nodded warily as she studied the woman. It was difficult to
decipher her age; she could be anything between one hundred, and
two hundred years old. Her teeth had clearly long since rotted to
blackened stubs, and her hair had not seen a pair of sheers for
many a good year. But it was the weariness in her eyes that warned
Tilly that the old woman had seen the worst side of life
imaginable. Tilly couldn’t help but wonder if she was seeing a
window through to her future, and suddenly started to feel terribly
afraid.


Keep an eye on the barkeep,” the old woman warned. “I
wouldn’t trust that one as far as I could throw ‘im. Keep your bag
with you, and don’t go anywhere alone with ‘im.”


I am not that kind of woman,” Tilly replied somewhat
primly.

The old
woman laughed. “Won’t matter none to ‘im; if you know what I mean,”
the old woman gurgled. “You ain’t from round these parts, is
you?”

Tilly
shook her head, but didn’t tell the woman where she did come
from.


When do ya leave ‘ere then? Ain’t no coach ‘til ‘omoro,” she
croaked. “Where’s ya stayin’?”

It took
Tilly a few minutes to decipher what the old woman had said because
her accent was so thick that it was difficult to understand. When
she did translate enough to get the gist of what the old woman had
just said, she wasn’t quite sure how to reply. She didn’t want to
tell the woman that she had nowhere to go because in doing so,
would reveal just how vulnerable she was to a veritable stranger.
Although this was the furthest she had ever been away from
Lincolnshire, even she knew not to take strangers, even old ones,
into her trust.


I have to find somewhere to stay yet,” she replied
obliquely.

The old
woman shook her head and studied Tilly closely. She glanced around
the tap and lowered her voice as she leaned closer.


Take a word, dearie. Don’t stay out at night round here.” She
tapped the side of her nose; then gave Tilly a direct look that
suddenly made the hairs on Tilly’s neck stand on end. “Try to stay
‘ere, if there’s room. Don’t go out a’ter dark, and get the first
coach outta town. It ain’t the place for ya ‘ere.”

Before
Tilly could open her mouth to reply, the old woman picked up her
ale and disappeared into the crowd.

That was
the second time in the space of an hour that Tilly had been warned
to get out of town, and it left her with a feeling of doom that
made her want leave her ale, the tavern, and follow everyone’s
orders, and leave town.

If only I could
, she thought
morosely, and settled back on her stool to sip her ale, and she
decided whether she could afford to.

CHAPTER
FIVE

 

Harry
sighed and stomped into the crowded tap room of the busy coaching
inn. So far, he had scoured the entire town from east to west, and
north to south, but there was no sign of her.

Nobody
in the busy coaching yard had seen anyone who matched Tilly’s
description. One of the stable lads had thought he had seen someone
who looked vaguely like her, but hadn’t been sure, and had no idea
which way she had gone. The coaching inn was the last place he
could think of to search, except for the poor house, and he hoped
to God she hadn’t gone there.


What do you mean you threw her out?” Harry growled when he
asked the bar keeper if he had seen her.


Sat over there nursing a beer for the better part of two
hours,” the bar keeper snorted in disgust as he nodded to the far
corner of the room. “Get her kind in here a lot, we do. They arrive
on the bloody post chaises, and don’t have anywhere to go, and then
think they can move in here instead of paying for a room. So, I
threw her out.”

He
didn’t stick around for Harry to ask him anything else, and hurried
to the other end of the bar to throw more ale at the
customers.

Harry
slammed out of the tavern, and looked up and down the main street
for several minutes while he contemplated what to do next. The
ticket master had assured him that the last post chaise of the day
had left several hours ago. The next one to leave wouldn’t go until
tomorrow morning. Unfortunately, the man had not sold any tickets
to any young ladies and he had been on duty all day, so Harry knew
that Tilly had chosen to ignore his advice, and hadn’t left town.
He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or not.

With his
options now exhausted, Harry stood on the side of the road and
tried to think what he would do if he was in Tilly’s situation. He
hated to even contemplate the possibility, but knew that there
really was only one place in the area that someone in her situation
would turn to: the poor house.

He
slowly; reluctantly, looked at the huge, draconian building that
everyone in the area feared the most, and began to pray that he was
wrong. Determined to find her, he headed toward it
anyway.

 

Tilly
studied the huge stone fortress ahead of her, and shuddered. Her
steps grew leaden as she walked toward the massive black building.
It stood sentry-like on top of the hill, like a prison of the worst
kind. She had doubts upon doubts upon doubts as she eyed the
massive front doors bracketed by rows upon rows of small, barred
windows. It was horrifying just to look at.

The
coinage in her pocket jingled as she walked, and even that seemed
to echo her doubts.

Would
they even let her in if she had money in her pocket? Would they
allow her inside at all?

She had
no idea. She had never been to a poor house before. It was the very
last place she had ever thought she would end up, but she was left
with no choice now.

At least
in Tooting Mallow there was a safe place for her to sleep at night,
even if it wasn’t her place of choice. If she bought a post chaise
ticket out of town, she may not find somewhere to stay in the town
she went to because she would have even fewer coins than she had
now. She would just be moving with her problems.

For some
reason she didn’t want to consider too closely, her thoughts turned
repeatedly to the man she had just left in the Rectory. Mr
Harrington Tingay. He had seemed a nice, affable gentleman, who had
been kind and considerate toward her. If she had any dire issues,
as a last resort, she could go and ask him for advice – couldn’t
she? After all, the letter she had received had come from his
house; surely he would help her.

She
sighed deeply when she suddenly realised that she had left her
letter with him. She briefly contemplated whether to go back and
fetch it. To her consternation though, before she could decide
whether to or not, the front door to the poor house opened silently
to let her in.

She
stopped on the driveway for a moment, and studied the gloomy depths
that seemed to beckon her to embrace the darkness. She slowly began
to walk toward it, but wondered if she was walking a pathway that
would take her straight into Hell.

Even
from a few feet away she could feel that it was several degrees
colder inside than out, and suddenly wanted to turn around and
hurry back to the relative safety of town.

Unfortunately, she knew that she would just be kicked out of
the tavern again, and there really was nowhere else she could
go.

With Mr
Tingay’s words of warning echoing in her ears, Tilly took a deep
breath, and entered Tooting Mallow’s poor house.

 

Harry
cursed fluidly as he watched her disappear into the darkness, and
the huge wooden door close behind her with a heavy
thump.

He
called out, but knew that she was too far away to hear him. His
curse was loud as he lengthened his stride to catch up with her.
Although he was angry, at least he knew where she was, and could
get her out of there before they even finished completing the
register. He could buy her out of there if he bloody well had to;
anything but allow her to remain in that pit of misery. He wished
now that he had taken a moment to warn her to stay away from the
poor house as well, but then was aware that he should not have even
let her out of the Rectory doorway.

His
curses were loud as he stomped toward the heavy oak door and lifted
his fist. His thumps were so loud that he could hear them
reverberate around the stone walls inside. Nevertheless, he
continued to knock until the sound of the bolts being slid back
greeted his ears.

The door
swung open silently and a tall, rather dour man appeared before
him.


What do you want?”


I want the young woman who has just entered here,” Harry
demanded.


Nobody has just entered here,” the man replied briskly, and
tried to close the door.

Harry
placed the flat of his hand on the wooden panelling and stopped
him. His eyes met and held the warden’s. “I saw her enter here
about two minutes ago. Don’t lie to me, I know she is here,” he
declared flatly. As he spoke, he tried to peer around the man only
for the warden to move and block his view.


Tilly!” he called loudly.


There ain’t no Tilly here,” the man grumbled. “Go
away.”


I saw her enter here just minutes ago,” Harry persisted. “She
was about this tall, with green eyes and long brown curly hair in a
bun thing.”

When the
man continued to look blank, Harry fought a bitter curse of
frustration, but persisted anyway. What the hell was going on? He
wasn’t sure if the man was deliberately being obtuse, or hadn’t
been the one who had let Tilly inside. Whatever the case, Harry was
not going to leave without her, and would push the man out of the
way so that he could go inside and find her himself if he had
to.


Nobody has entered this poor house since last Thursday, I
tell you,” the man replied huffily.


I have just seen her come here,” Harry reiterated. “Let me
in. Go and check with your governor if you don’t believe me. She
walked in here about two minutes ago. You can’t have processed her
that quickly. She has to be around here somewhere. Go and look for
her, man.”


I am telling you that nobody has entered here for the last
few days,” the man sighed. “Now, are you going to go, or do I have
to throw you out?”


Who are you?”


The Head Warden,” the man replied.


Your name?”


Who are you to be asking?” The warden challenged.


Tilly’s husband,” Harry lied. His instincts warned him that
for now, he needed to keep his association with the War Office, and
the Star Elite, a secret.


Well, you should know where your wife is,” the man replied
with a snarl. “Now get out of here, and go and look for your wife
somewhere else.”


What’s your name?” Harry demanded with a scowl. If he had to
get Sir Hugo to help get Tilly out, then that is what he would do.
First though, he had to have names.


Cruickshank,” the man snarled. “What’s it to you?”

Before
Harry could say anything else the door slammed shut, and the bolts
were slid across for emphasis. Harry stared blankly at the wood
panelling, mere inches from his nose, while he tried to work out
what had just happened. He hadn’t imagined seeing Tilly just enter
the building. She had even been carrying the same bag she had clung
on to so desperately in his study.

So, why
had they denied that she was there?

As he
turned away from the building, he gave it one last careful look
before he reluctantly walked back down the driveway.

 


In ‘ere,” the warden growled as he pushed a door open to a
small square room that was barely big enough to accommodate a
single bed.


Don’t I need to sign a register, or something?” Tilly asked
rather timidly.


The governor ain’t here. You will do it when he gets back
next week,” the man growled as he nodded toward the cold and empty
room. “That’s your room. Learn the rules, keep your head down and
you will survive.” His plump lips curled into a grotesque smile as
he eyed her up and down; and laughed when she instinctively took a
wary step back. “Just,” he added snidely.

With
that, he ambled off.

Tilly
turned to face her room, and felt her stomach churn with dread. She
couldn’t help but feel that there was something wrong with this
entire scenario, only couldn’t quite make her mind up
why.

Other books

A Flower Girl Murder by Moure, Ana
A Journey by Tony Blair
Return to Eden by Ching, G.P.
The Baker Street Translation by Michael Robertson
Air Ambulance by Jean S. Macleod
A Moment of Weakness by Karen Kingsbury
Year of the Chick by Romi Moondi


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024