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he could damage the case if Lynne could prove hara.s.sment, but something was driving him to confront the man himself, and without knowing exactly why, he knew he must carry on.
"Is it routine to starve the prisoners?" Smokey asked her cellmate in a small voice as the second morning of her captivity dawned "They say it keeps us weak and easy to 'andle," the other woman told her. Smokey's heart sank.
They had done very little speaking since Smokey had arrived, mainly because the other woman seemed to sleep a great deal of the time.
Even though Smokey was still in a state of shock, she was aware enough to believe that the woman across from her was dying right before her very eyes. There was water every day from a bucket in the corner, but neither she nor Smokey had been given anything to eat since Smokey arrived. Smokey was hungry; the other woman was starving.
"Every other day," the other woman went on in a whisper, as though talking took more energy than she could spare.
"They brings bread every other day."
Suddenly the other woman's words became clear. As Smokey had been pushed into the cell, she said it was her turn.
Smokey understood now that her cellmate had gone extra days without food since they were not yet ready to feed the newest resident of Klink Prison.
What kind of place is this, Smokey asked herself not for the first time, that they starve people to death? Smokey could think of no crime so heinous as to deserve this.
The morning stretched on. Just when she thought she would go mad for want of food, a light appeared from somewhere down the cavern. It hurt her eyes as it neared, but she forced herself to look anyway, hope pounding in her breast.
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/ Two men appeared, one carrying a bucket and cups, the other a basket of loaves. Keys jingled, and the cell door was opened Two loaves of bread were thrown in, and cups of some type of gruel were scooped up and set just inside the door before it was slammed shut again.
Smokey scrambled for the bread as fast as she could move, cramming it into her mouth in a frenzy, but the other woman stayed her movement.
"Easy, go easy, child, or lt*ll make ya sick."
Smokey stopped in midchew and forced herself to calm down. She reached for the other loaf and set it beside the other woman's pallet.
The woman's laugh was low and had a rusty sound to it.
"Ya must be something special when yer not in 'ere. Anyone else in this 'ole would 'ave eaten 'em both."
Smokey moved to the cups then and ignoring her own, took one to the other pallet. She held it while the old woman took a sip and left it within reach next to the bread Her hand shook so violently as she drank from her own cup that she nearly spilled the contents. The gruel was thin and gritty, but Smokey didn't know when anything had tasted so wonderful. After she'd taken a few sips, she looked over to see that the other woman had at least picked up her cup.
"What's your name?" Smokey asked her.
"Aggie."
"Why are you in here?" Smokey asked around a mouthful of bread Again the older prisoner laughed.
"Now I can really tell that yer new to this. There's two things ya don't ask down 'ere--the first is why yer 'ere, and the second is if yer deserve to be."
"Oh" was all Smokey could think to say as she tried to eat slowly.
"You're an American?" Aggie asked, although it was more a statement than a question.
"Yes" was all Smokey said.
They fell silent after this small exchange, both now working on the food Smokey was nearly done with her bread when 220.
*D.
she thought she should save some for later. She didn't want to 1 think about the next two days, but forcing herself to do so, she reached to put the small crust into the pocket of her tunic "Don't do it," Aggie said, making Smokey aware of the fact that she'd been watching her. "Eats it all, or the rats'll come lookin' for it."
Smokey's breath left her in a rush, and she couldn't stop the shudder that ran over her frame as her eyes searched the dark corners of the cell and cavern. She took the bread back out and, after eating it, finished her gruel as well.
The older prisoner went back to sleep as soon as she was done, but Smokey only sat on her pallet, a new shudder running over her frame every time she thought of Aggie's words.
ever seen. The landscape was perfect, ana ooin manual Run* Dallas thought they could have used their imaginations and been in any number of small villages in Italy.
The front door was opened without hesitation, and both men were greatly encouraged to at least gain entrance to the grand home. Only seconds pa.s.sed, however, before their hopes were dashed.
"Lord Lynne is not here at the moment," a stuffy butler informed them, looking down the length of his long, well-shaped nose.
"Can you tell us where he might be?" Dallas questioned politely, just barely holding his temper at being treated like a commoner.
"I'm sorry," the man began, not sounding sorry at all.
Before he could go on, a pet.i.te but lovely woman appeared on the stairs behind Brandon and Dallas. They turned when she spoke in perfect Italian to the servant.
Brandon, who was fluent in French and German, caught a smattering of her words, but missed whether she was pleased or angry over their presence. She stared at them a momenf before moving down to the floor, across the entryway, and 222.
into an adjoining room. The butler motioned to the men to join her.
Once inside, the room proved to be a somewhat neglected library. Brandon held every one of the myriad questions running through his mind. He a.s.sumed the woman would need an interpreter before they could communicate, but only a moment pa.s.sed before she put that wrong a.s.sumption to rest.
"I wish to know your names, gentlemen," she spoke in English, her accent very subtle.
The men supplied her with the information before she took a seat and asked them to join her. They did so cautiously, thinking this situation felt a little more bizarre with every pa.s.sing moment.
"I am Lady Constanza Lynne. Mario tells me you were inquiring about my husband"
Brandon's face showed his shock, and Lady Lynne smiled with a bitter twist to her mouth.
"I can see, Lord Hawkesbury, that you have listened to the rumors around London--that I am a bedridden termagant. As you see for yourself, I am not bedridden, and as for the charge of shrew, let us just say that at times I have cause."
"Please excuse my behavior, Lady Lynne/' he apologized immediately. "We are looking for your husband Can you help us find him?"
"Why do you wish to see him?"
Brandon answered without hesitation. "He was arrested just days ago for piracy and has since then been freed An American woman, a friend of mine, has now been arrested for the same charge. I wish to question your husband myself as to whether or not he had a hand in the matter."
"This woman--she is accused unjustly?"
"Yes, she is."
The regret they saw in her eyes was very real.
"I wish you would tell me everything."
Brandon hesitated then, knowing he could not sugarcoat the truth in any way and wondering if that was fair to her.
223.
"Please," Lady Lynne beseeched him softly when she saw his reluctance.
Brandon nodded and began. He explained the pirating of his own s.h.i.+ps and how he had come to meet Smokey. Dallas took over whenever the story moved to the seas and shared his knowledge of Smokey's capture. Brandon recounted a few details of the case he was building and also informed her in no uncertain terms that her husband would answer to the charges.
Constanza listened without comment. Neither man had spared details, and even though they were both calm, she could see that the woman, this American sea captain, meant a great deal to them.
"This Captain Simmons--you say my husband abducted her?"
"That is right," Dallas told her.
"Is she all right?" the woman asked with genuine concern.
Both men were amazed that she didn't seem to doubt a single one of the allegations against her husband "When we saw her last, yes, she was well, but prison is--"
Brandon let the sentence hang and shrugged regretfully. "Can you help us, Lady Lynne?"
She hesitated for only a moment. "I am speaking the truth when I say I do not know the whereabouts of my spouse. I wish that I did"
Brandon's and Dallas' disappointment was obvious. Thinking she would be a lead, they had spent valuable time here only to again encounter another dead end They both stood, Brandon's voice a bit curt as he excused them.
"I won't ask you to report him should he come home-- that might not be fair. We must take our leave now."
Dallas did little more than nod in Lady Lynne's direction as they both started toward the door. Brandon's hand was on the k.n.o.b when Lady Lynne stopped them with a few words.
Brandon turned back and nailed her with a look and one question.
"Can you explain what you just said to me?"
224.
Constanza swallowed hard and nodded. She gestured with a slim hand for the men to be reseated. Brandon and Dallas didn't leave the Lynne library for another two hours.
When they did leave, they talked of nothing but the case all the way back to London. On entering the city, they went directly to the Tower in order to inform Smokey of the newest information. Both men were momentarily silent with shock to learn that she had been moved the night before.
After recovering, Dallas watched once again as Brandon went into action, this time to locate her. Dallas had to fight panic such as he had never experienced before, when, after several hours, Brandon told him that not even he could find out who had moved Smokey or where she had been taken.
The day after Aggie and Smokey had been fed someone else came down the caverns with a light. Smokey's heart leaped with hope that there would be more food, but a darkly cloaked figure, hood pulled completely over his head, stopped outside the cell.
The Jailer held his lantern high, and both Aggie and Smokey squinted and turned away from the bright a.s.sault. Smokey was still squinting when the keys rattled and the door swung open.
From her place on her pallet, the man looked huge as he entered Smokey could not think who would be coming to see her. Brandon or Dallas would not have been so mysterious.
The big man hung the lantern on a nail and spoke over his shoulder to the guard "Leave us."
Smokey stiffened at the sound of his voice and used what was left of her quickly fading strength to come off the pallet and move against the far stone wall. Her breath quickened as fear pounded in her chest.
225.
"This place does not t Cx/df your beauty and talents, my dear. Already I ca*/ -** (^/taking a toll."
The hood came off then, ana auiokey stared into the face of her abductor, his smile and scar still in place "What do you want?" she asked softly.
"What I've always wanted--you."
"Get out," she ordered him, but he only smiled "I should have known a woman of your spirit would need more time, but I hoped."
"Hoped for what?"
"Why, that you would see reason, my dear." He spoke as though addressing a slow child "My offer still stands. I want you and the Aramis. I'll have you out of here in an hour, and we'll be married by the week's end"
Smokey's lip curled in disgust, but Haamich Wynn only smiled.
"Will we live with your wife, or have a home of our own?"
Smokey's voice dripped with scorn, and the smile vanished as if by magic. The pirate's face contorted with rage as he came toward her. She tried to move away, but he was too fast and the room too small. He grabbed Smokey and hauled her against him.
"Who have you been talking to?"
"Don't touch me," Smokey nearly spat at him.
With a near growl of rage, Haamich moved and a knife appeared, an evil-looking blade that made the breath catch in Smokey's throat.
Aggie came alive upon seeing that blade, but he ignored the insults and threats she rained on him in her weak voice.
Smokey closed her eyes in terror, certain that he was about to slit her throat.
Smokey gasped, and her eyes flew open again when he grabbed her hair and gave a great pull. She stared in horror as he stood back and held all two feet of her braid up before the lantern's light.
"I always get what I want, my dear." The man's voice was so genial that Smokey felt chilled to the bone. "Think about 226.
my offer, will you? iowecj harxj .light cut something off that won't grow back." the men .
With those words ik,.,, -, Camming the door behind him and taking the lantern and Smokey's braid back down the cavern. Smokey sank onto the tick, her hand going to the hair that was now falling into her face.
Like a woman in a dream she felt around to the back of her neck. He'd cut her hair off at the nape. Smokey hadn't shed one tear since she had been thrust into this cell, but she now bordered on the edge of hysteria.
As she collapsed face first onto her pallet, the sobs began from deep in her chest and came to the surface as harsh weeping. Smokey cried as she never had before, aware of nothing but the pain of isolation and abuse. Smokey barely noticed when Aggie used what little strength she had left to crawl on her belly from her own flea-infested tick. She came to clumsily pat Smokey's shoulder and offer words of sympathy.
G/llMl/~G/fiM0 both men were spent after their futile search for Smokey.
They talked for a long time, or rather Dallas talked and Brandon listened He shared from his heart concerning the panic he felt when they had found her gone, and then the men took time to pray, turning the evening into a time of spiritual renewal.
Just before the men turned in, Brandon told Dallas of his only remaining worry concerning the case. That was Smokey's ledger books. He knew them to be in the hands of a magistrate, and Brandon worried that they might have been altered The charge of piracy seemed outrageous, but if Smokey's trading was too good to be true, the judge might sentence her for pirating on her own or as an accomplice.