Page 37 of Silence of Deceit
A pair of men met their carriage at a tall, wrought iron gate.
“Visiting or admitting?” one asked. Hugh tried not to glare; this man was only doing his job.
“Neither. We are here to see to the superintendent.”
“Do you have an appointment then?” the guard asked.
“I sent a note ahead.” Lying might have been dishonorable, but it did not distress him in the least. The normal rules of life and society did not apply here; he could feel it as keenly as the moorland mist still dampening his skin.
The guards exchanged a glance, and then opened the gate. When Carrigan drew the carriage to a stop before the cheerless front entrance, Hugh got down and opened the door for Audrey. He was met with a wide-eyed Greer. “I’m not sure what to do, Officer Marsden,” she whispered.
The duchess had pressed herself into a corner. Her eyes were closed, and her chest rose and fell erratically as if gasping for air.
“She’s been like this since before we came up to the gates,” the maid added.
He helped Greer down and then launched himself into the carriage. Audrey’s eyes didn’t so much as flutter. They were squeezed tight, her complexion pale. She breathed rapidly; her gloved fingers were laced together into a tight knot in her lap.
“Audrey,” he whispered, softly and gently. He sat across from her and leaned forward. He shoved back the furious desire to pummel the Baron Edgerton into oblivion for sending his niece here, and to roar at the baroness for allowing such treatment. His heart ached for Audrey and the fear paralyzing her right then.
Hugh slid his hands over hers, feeling the vibrations of her trembling. “Audrey, open your eyes. Look at me.”
Her lashes parted, revealing stark terror and panic. He held her clamped hands tighter and resisted bringing them to his lips. “This is not like the last time. You’re safe, Audrey. There is no chance in hell I’m leaving this place without you at my side, do you understand? We are only here for a short while.”
She blinked as if registering his vow, and her head jerked in an ungainly nod.
“You can stay here in the carriage with Carrigan and Greer while I go in, if that would make you feel safer.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I want to stay with you.”
His chest swelled with satisfaction, though he tried to ignore it. She allowed him to help her out of the carriage, and kept their arms intertwined as her gaze landed upon the imposing stone façade of the asylum. From her panic in the carriage, Hugh expected her to cling to his arm as they made their way toward the entrance, but she surprised him. Audrey let go, flexed her fingers, smoothed the front of her traveling coat, touched the brim of her bonnet, and pressed down her shoulders. She stared at the front door as if about to duel with it. Then swept forward, to climb the wide half-moon steps.
Hugh had never been more impressed by the duchess than he was at that moment.
She didn’t quail when a stern-faced matron, wearing a serviceable, high-collared grey dress with a white bib front and a ring of skeleton keys at her hip, greeted them at the door. The woman gave Audrey a long, circumspect once-over, and Hugh waited for recognition or surprise to light her eyes. But they remained stony and distant. Finally, she shifted her attention to Hugh.
“May I help you?”
“We have come to speak to the superintendent,” Audrey answered before Hugh could so much as part his lips. The matron slowly returned her gaze to Audrey.
“Is he expecting you?”
“We sent a note ahead.” Audrey echoed his lie at the gates with as much ease as Hugh had shown. He pinned the corner of his inner lip to keep from smirking.
“I’ve not heard of it,” the matron insisted, not budging from the open doorway to allow them entry.
“Does the superintendent inform you of all his correspondence?” Hugh asked. He didn’t give her a chance to answer. “I’m Officer Marsden, principal officer from Bow Street, London. I have questions regarding some of your former patients.”
When the woman’s eyes shifted toward Audrey, Hugh could see that she did recall the duchess. Audrey, however, showed no sign of recognition. A pretense, he suspected. An aloof façade she had perfected the last few years.
After another long moment of hesitation, the woman stepped aside. “Very well. This way.”
He thought he heard Audrey’s sharp intake of air as she stepped across the threshold. Hugh stayed at her side as the matron showed them down a few intersecting passages. The place was as gray and dreary inside as it had been outside. Two women with lank hair around their shoulders and matching gowns of unadorned pale blue wool sat in a passageway, side by side on a wooden bench. They seemed to be ignoring each other, one woman rocking forward and back and blinking erratically. The other followed their progress past them and down the corridor with a wide, round stare.
Hugh wondered how they’d come to be there and why. Audrey had been conscripted here, and Delia too…both squirreled away to hide dirty secrets. Even Lord Rumsford, who had been arrested at a molly house, but had been able to secure a quiet release on the condition that he spend six months at Shadewell for reformation, had not truly belonged in such a hopeless place.
“Do not speak to the residents,” the matron commanded. “Some can become quite agitated. As you are aware, MissSmith, are you not?”
Audrey’s steps faltered, and Hugh brushed his hand against her elbow. However, she recovered quickly and replied with a thick layer of ice on her tone, “Yes. I recall, Mrs. Derry, thank you.”
