Page 63 of Disciplined by the Duke
Liz gripped the straw basket more tightly to her stomach. “I’ve come to visit with my sister. Miss Amanda Wilcox, if you please.”
“You have, have you?” Leaning a shoulder against the doorjamb, the man swept his eyes down her body. He scratched at his chin, his fingers lost in the wild hair, and Liz watched with horrified fascination as a bug leaped from the untamed beard, landed on his thick shoulder, and scurried away.
“Yes,” she whispered. She swallowed, but the bile crawled up her throat. She’d been living in a ducal estate for the past weeks. Her sister had been here.
“I think we could work some’in’ out.” He raised a brown finger, to run down her cheek or beckon her closer she didn’t know. A voice from behind him halted his movement.
“Oy, let her be, Jox. That one’s all right.”
Liz peered around the hirsute guard and released a breath when she recognized one of the men sitting around a table. Playing cards and small stacks of chestnuts sat before the three seated men and at one empty chair. She took a step back from Jox. She’d interrupted his game and some men didn’t take kindly to that.
He shrugged his shoulders and turned sideways to let her pass. “If you say so.”
She scuttled past, trying to keep as much distance between herself and the flea-ridden man as possible without being rude about it. “Good evening, Mr. Mason.” She’d come to know the older gaoler fairly well during her sister’s incarceration, even going so far as to “accidentally” run into him at a nearby coffeehouse he frequented. Developing a relationship with the man who held the keys to Amanda’s cell had been one of her first goals undertaken.
She reached into the basket and drew out a thick slab of pastry wrapped in paper. “I didn’t know there would be so many men here or else I would have brought a meat pie for everyone. Next time.”
She walked over and placed the pie in front of the head gaoler. He rested a wiry hand over it possessively. “You save your coin for what you and your sister need.” He glared at the men around him. “These louts don’t need your kindness. They wouldn’t appreciate it like I do, anyhows.”
“Not many men are as discerning as you, Mr. Mason.” Liz cringed internally. The man really was kind, a doting grandfather to three little girls, and a fair gaoler. But he ate up compliments like he did meat pies: voraciously and with little heed as to their quality. She had fallen under his favor by spouting any number of inanities about his generous nature and intelligence. Only half of her compliments were true.
“Ah, go on now.” He waved her towards the internal door and unwrapped his pie. “Jox, you go back and open the cell for her. And be polite about it,” he added sternly.
She took two steps back, giving the other man plenty of space to unlock the door. “Thank you, Mr. Mason.”
He took a big bite of baked dough, his eyes closing in satisfaction. “You’re welcome,” he said around a mouthful of food. “And maybe you can get your sister to talk while you’re back there. She hasn’t said a word to me or anyone else in over a week.”
The gaoler delivered the news like a doctor saying his patient had only a stubbed toe. She clenched her hands around the wicker handles of the basket, but pasted a smile on her face. “Of course. I’ll . . . I’ll see what I can do.”
She followed Jox into the darkness. The smell of unbathed bodies, urine, and worse was usually the first assault on her senses. The cold and damp the second. This time she hardly noticed them. Her sister had stopped talking. The sister whom she usually couldn’t get to quiet her chattering as they lay together in bed at nights, who always had a new story or joke to tell.
The continued imprisonment had to be affecting Amanda’s mind. This was further proof that she needed to remove her sister from these surroundings at all costs.
The jangle of the gaoler’s keys sounded loudly with each step the man took. Newgate was preternaturally quiet at this time of day. The evening bowl of gruel had been served and the inmates would stop their usual shrieking and clanging against the bars of their door to lick free every morsel of food they could get. Most of the prisoners were so weak that even that little exertion quieted them down until they’d rested. Only soft moans reached her ears. Most candles had burned out for the night, leaving the prison in unforgiving dark. It was a place of nightmares.
Jox fumbled with the large ring of keys, trying a couple before finding the one that unlocked her sister’s cell. Liz stepped into the blackness, and flinched at the breeze of fetid air that brushed her body as the door clanged shut. The low voice through the door said, “I’ll be back to bring you out soon.” And she was locked into the cell, too.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed down the panic that always threatened to swallow her when she was trapped inside the prison. “Amanda? Are you here?” Stupid question. She placed the basket at her feet and felt inside for the candle and flint. “I’m sorry it’s been so long since my last visit. But I did tell you I had to go away for a while.”
Her sister didn’t respond. Liz’s hands shook, but after a couple of scrapes she was able to light the wick of the candle. A dull glow scratched at the corners of the five-by-eight cell, revealing her sister’s still form curled on the bed of straw.
“Amanda?” She tiptoed forward. “Are you awake?” Her sister’s eyes gleamed dully behind slitted eyelids. Liz ran her hand over the threadbare fabric clinging to her sister’s shoulder. “Come on, sweetie. I brought some food and wine for you.” Tears pricked behind her eyes. “I even have one of those apple cakes you like so much.”
She dragged the basket to the bed, and filled an earthen mug with the wine, spilling some drops in her haste. Putting a hand behind Amanda’s neck, she brought the drink to her sister’s lips. “Please, Mandy. A couple sips, for me.”
Her sister sighed and parted her lips. She drank a couple swallows. Liz prodded and pleaded until the cup was empty.
Putting the cup down, Liz dropped her head until her temple rested against Amanda’s. “I am so sorry I haven’t been here. I promise, you won’t be here much longer. I’ll find a way to secure your release. I’m so close.”
“Don’t bother.” The words were so faint if Liz hadn’t been inches from her sister’s mouth she wouldn’t have heard them.
She pulled back. “What was that?”
“Don’t trouble yourself.” Amanda loosed deep hacking coughs, and pressed a hand to her mouth. “This is where I belong. I resigned myself to my fate long ago.”
Liz grabbed her shoulders, and dragged Amanda to a seated position. “Why would you say that? That’s not true.”
Amanda brushed the backs of her fingers down Liz’s cheek before dropping her hand back into her lap. “I killed Father. Where else should I be?”
