“I have spoken with Miss St. John’s sister-in-law, Lady Sherringham already. Regrettably, she has washed her hands of the affair, and will do nothing to assist her.”
“But her brother—Mr. St. John—will he not help?”
“I am not aware of a brother.”
The room swam briefly. I sat down and put my head between my knees until I could think straight. Lady Sherringham? Why was she contacted instead of Griffin? Of course she would not lift a finger to help Helena, no doubt her sense of revenge was strong. But Griffin, where was he? Why was he not moving heaven and earth to get Helena and me out? The despair must have shown on my face as I turned back to the door.
“I will try and contact this brother. Do your best not to worry. Until I can find him, I will speak with the prison doctor about Miss St. John’s situation. I have not seen her yet, but I will do so next.”
“Could you please let me know how she is doing? Could you not ask the matron if I might share a cell with her?”
“I will ask, but I don’t wish to raise any false hopes.”
I closed my eyes, so great was my pain. I had failed Griffin, Helena, Robert, my sister—it was entirely due to my own obstinate ways that innocent Helena was to suffer. Although I hated it, although I dreaded what was to happen to me, the thought that I might have removed Helena from that blasted meeting hall before the trouble started haunted me throughout my waking moments.
“I am also trying to have your status raised to that of a political prisoner, rather than a criminal one.” She sighed heavily. “I don’t hold out much hope for that either, but I will try.”
She left, and I sank back onto my plank and curled up into a ball. I was crying quietly to myself when I heard voices outside my cell. I went to the door in time to see the prison doctor and four wardresses march down the hall. They stopped at the cell opposite mine where a suffragette had been transferred from another cell. I was shaking with fear, although I did not know why the sight of them should fill me with such loathing.
I soon understood the matron’s plea with me to eat some fruit. The hospital treatment was being inflicted upon the poor woman across from me. No matter how long I live, I will never forget the sounds of that horrible torture. When they left the cell, a voice from another cell banged on the door and yelled, “No surrender!”
A weak but defiant, “No surrender!” answered from the victim’s cell. The governors had ordered this inhuman treatment so the prisoners would not die martyrs. I sank to the floor, faint with terror, and wondered how I was to survive it.
The following day was the third and final day of my hunger strike. I had not heard from Mrs. Prince, but the prison matron had stopped long enough to tell me that Helena was recovering, although she too was on a hunger strike. She had refused my request to share a cell, but promised to keep me informed as to Helena’s well-being.
The days had quickly settled into a routine; I awoke from a nightmare into a waking hell. I was not allowed to leave the cell, nor had I any visitors other than the officials and Mrs. Prince. What my family must have thought I could only imagine. Griffin had warned me that he would not be able to secure our release again, and despite my conviction that he would do everything humanly possible to have us released, I feared we were beyond his help.
“No surrender!” rang out down the hallway in tormented voices as the doctor made his rounds. The screams of anguish, sounds of retching, and other torturous noises only stiffened my resolve. I had wanted to be a part of this great campaign, I had wanted to devote my body and soul to a cause, and I was solely responsible for placing Helena and myself in this position—I would take my punishment and continue my hunger strike.
I was weak with lack of sleep and food when they came for me the next day. I lifted my head from the plank as they stopped outside of my door. Dread and terror knotted up my stomach until I thought I would fall into an oblivion of darkness. The doctor and four wardresses entered the room. He asked me if I would take food. Unable to speak, I shook my head.
What followed next haunts me still. Two wardresses moved into position by taking hold of my arms. I shrank back into the pallet as one held my head, the other my feet. The doctor sat on my knees, and leaned across my chest to get at my mouth. I gritted my teeth together in an attempt to keep my mouth closed, but he had some sort of steel tool that he used to pry into my mouth.
I held my mouth closed as long as I could, but at last I could no longer bear the pain. As soon as my mouth opened, he stuffed a gap into it, turning the screw and widening it until my jaws were held wide open. I thought they would break, but the worst was yet to come.
With a brutal move, he shoved a thick tube down my throat. It was too wide and very long, and I gagged the second it hit my throat. He poured the food into the tube quickly; and yanked the tube out. As soon as it was out, I retched the food up all over him. He slapped me, and shoved the tube down again, pouring more food in it. This time I held it down until he had the gag out; as soon as it was removed, I retched all over the floor.
Exhausted and stunned with pain, I lay half on the bed, and sent a blasphemous wish that I should die.
“No surrender!” The cell door across mine clanged.
I looked up, wiping the bile from my mouth. I had survived, I had not given in to my fears. Never again would I worry that I could not triumph over adversity.
I raised my chin and as loudly and defiantly as I could, croaked, “No surrender!”
As much as I dreaded and hated the force-feeding, what came next made me crazed almost to the point of insanity. I heard the doctor working his way down the cells, and knew Helena must be facing him soon. I wept for her then, and wracked my brain feverishly as to a way I could save her from this fate. I found no answers.
The matron came to see me that evening. I was lying on my bed, shaking with cold and shock, my mouth still bleeding from the metal implement the doctor had used to pry my jaws open, my throat shredded by the large tube. I sat up when she handed me a jug of water.
“I won’t ask you how you are, because I can see that for myself,” she said. “I promised to tell you about Miss St. John, as I knew you must be worried about her. She is as well as can be expected, but I am worried that she has a fever. I have asked the doctor to see her. He said he will do so in the morning.”
I stared at her dully, not comprehending what she said. It was hard for me to concentrate, but I made an effort and focused on each word she spoke.
“Please, please have him release her.” My voice came out cracked and hoarse. “She is too fragile to withstand this treatment.”
“I will do what I can. Try to get some sleep now.”
Left to my own private nightmare, I sank into an exhausted sleep in which there was no rest, only horror.
Time ceased to exist for me. I know it must have been the following day when I heard the doctor making his rounds again, but I had no feeling of time passing. There was no distinction between what was real and what was imagined. I could hear the screams, the sounds of the struggle, and the defiant, “No surrender!” follow the doctor as he came down the corridor. A rattle at my door indicated he had arrived. I gritted my teeth, and looked up to see a wardress beckoning at me.
“Get up and come with me. The Governor wants to see you.”
She had to repeat the message before I could comprehend it. My legs were so weak I stumbled into the door as I left my cell. Taking a deep breath, I lifted my chin, stood up straight, and walked slowly and deliberately after her. I had to concentrate on taking one step after another, but at last I made it to the Governor’s offices. I was left sitting in an outer chamber, the door locked behind me. I sat with my head between my knees to keep from swooning, sure they had brought me in to tell me Helena had died. I wondered how long I could stand the treatment, certain now that I would not be released. Did I have the strength to last the entire nine months of my sentence?
There were no tears left for me to shed as I waited endles
s, grievous hours, dreading every passing footstep in case it should bring me news of Helena’s demise. Unused to the lights and relatively fresh air, I stood up and walked around the room to regain the use of my legs. The door opened behind me, but when I tried to turn quickly, I stumbled and would have fallen had not strong arms caught me.
“Cassandra, my beautiful, brave Cassandra,” a voice murmured in my ears, a familiar voice that accompanied kisses pressed to my forehead. “Tell me you’re all right, sweetheart. Tell me you haven’t been hurt.”
I lifted my head and Griffin’s beloved face swam before me. Reaching a hand up to touch it, I asked, “Where on earth did you get another black eye?” just before I fainted.
Chapter Twenty-six
“Helena!”
I wept tears of sheer joy when, five minutes after Griffin and the wardress brought me around, Helena staggered into the room.
“Cassandra? Griffin?” She collapsed into Griffin’s arms, weeping hoarsely. I made my way over to them, hugging them both, feeling my own happy tears mingle with hers.
“You look much better than I imagined,” I told her, although I noted her eyes had a feverish brightness to them.
“I am just so happy to see you both,” she said, letting Griffin ease her into a chair.
“I have brought you some tea,” the wardress said as I took the seat next to Helena.
We looked at each other, then at the wardress. She made an annoyed sound and added, “You can drink it, you’ve been officially released. The charges against you were dropped.”
I have had many beverages in my life, but none that tasted of such ambrosia as did that hot, sweet tea. As we were sipping it gratefully, Robert raced into the room and flung himself at Helena’s feet. Griffin had been hovering between Helena and me, but with the arrival of Robert, he sat next to me, pulling me to his side with a protective arm.
“Robert? Oh, my dear, darling Robert!” Helena murmured, stroking his head. When he looked up, I was shocked by his face—he had a torn lip, an oddly shaped nose, and two discolored eyes.
I turned to Griffin, who was scowling at the wardress as she fussed with the tea things. “What happened to Robert? Did he break his nose? And why do you both have black eyes?”
He pulled me closer. “I’ll tell you once we’re out of this damned place.”
Helena had to be carried out of the prison. I made it on my own feet, although I was glad for Griffin’s strong arm. I admit that I collapsed into his embrace on the way home, but I didn’t feel that Robert and Helena would care. I was a little puzzled as to why we were taking Joshua’s carriage home, but leaning against Griffin’s shoulder with his arm around me, I didn’t feel like inquiring. I did ask how he had secured our release.
“I saw some people,” he said grimly. “Letitia helped.”
“Letitia?” Tucked as I was against him, I could not see his face, but watched his Adam’s apple fondly as he spoke. “I thought she refused to help Helena?”
“She did, until it became worth her while to do so.”
I wanted to ask what Griffin did to make it worth her while, but a suspicion took hold and was confirmed when we stopped in front of my sister’s house.
Mabel and Joshua were on the doorstep to greet us, as was Doctor Melrose. Robert carried Helena up the stairs to the guest room, the doctor following closely behind.
“Shall I take you to bed as well?” Griffin asked.
I tried to summon up a smile. “Is that an improper suggestion, Mr. St. John, or do you just wish to be rid of me?”
Griffin kissed me gently in response, and helped me into the library. I sat on the leather couch with my feet up, wrapped in a rug, and sipped the brandy Griffin ordered me to drink. He sat on the floor next to me, close enough so I could twine my fingers through his hair in between sips.
“All right,” I said, putting the brandy snifter down, pulling the hand he was kissing free. “Enough, my head is swimming. Would you please tell me what has been happening? How did you get us out?”
“Letitia put me in touch with some of Sherry’s friends. I showed them a few letters she gave me which detailed his plan to destroy the suffrage movement, you, Helena, me…and incidentally, a number of members of the House of Lords who did not see eye-to-eye with Sherry. They agreed to help me in order to cover up what would be an otherwise ugly scandal involving a peer and the House. When the police were presented with the testimony of two impeccable witnesses who stated that you and Helena were unjustly arrested, the charges were dropped and you were freed.”
I ran my finger lightly along his jaw. He took my hand again and kissed my fingers. Little sparks of fire ran down my arms to start a thrumming deep inside me.
“What did you have to do to make Lady Sherringham help you?”
He looked at my fingertips. “I gave her something she had wanted for a long time.”
I put a hand on his cheek and turned his face toward mine. “You gave her your house?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
I smiled at his handsome face. “A guess. They always seemed to be lord and lady of the manor there, I assumed they felt the house was rightfully theirs even though your brother lost it. With her husband locked away, what else does she have?”
Mabel accompanied a maid laden with a tea tray. “You will be happy to know that Doctor Melrose says Helena is not suffering from any illness, just exhaustion and malnutrition.”
‘Thank God,” I murmured gratefully.
She poured me a large cup of tea, and loaded a plate with food. “You drink that tea first, then eat.”
I looked askance at the food. “Mabel, there is no way I could eat half of that.”
Griffin took the plate and said quietly to my sister, “I’ll see that she eats.”
Mabel beamed at him, looked at me fondly, and bustled out. I took a few sips at the tea, and sighed as it slid down my sore throat. “Oh, that is heaven.”
Griffin sat next to me on the couch, kissing my throat in a most distracting way.
“What have you done with Mabel?” I asked, having gathered enough wits together to remember how to speak. “I expected to receive a tongue-lashing like none I have received before.”
“I’m sure you will hear from her about the subject,” he said with amusement, transferring his kisses to my jaw. “I think just now she is simply grateful you are back.”
I turned my head until he gave me what I wanted. His mouth was warm and caressing, not demanding and aggressive as it usually was, but soft and teasing, gently stroking away the horror of the last few days and replacing the pain with pleasure.
I pulled away from the hot lure of his mouth and touched his second bruised eye. “Now, tell me about that.”
He sighed, and made himself comfortable, which meant I was made extremely comfortable half-draped across his chest. “Hunter and I were in the balcony of that blasted hall, watching over you.”
I made a sound of protest, but he stopped it with his mouth.
“I won’t tell you unless you drink that tea,” he said, pulling away and nodding toward the cup. “And no interruptions.”
I hurriedly picked up the tea. “Continue.”
“We had a feeling that there was going to be trouble, so we decided to watch over you two from the balcony. When the police sprang out from their hiding places, we knew you were in a dangerous situation. We tried to get down to you but the entire crowd panicked, and we were caught on the stairs, pinned and unable to go anywhere. By the time we did make it downstairs and onto the main floor, the police had most of the women rounded up. We went to free you and ended up fighting the police.” He touched his eye gingerly. “I got this as a souvenir. We were charged with assaulting a policeman, and thrown into jail for three days. I tried to reach everyone I knew who had some pull, but had no luck.”
I put down my tea, touched that he had risked his own life for ours.
“When we were released, I went home and found that Letitia had refuse
d to help Helena. I knew your family did not have the contacts to help you, so I persuaded Letitia to give me Sherry’s journal and the letters that detailed his plans.”
I thought for a few moments. “And now you are homeless?”
“Yes,” he grimaced. “Your brother-in-law has kindly offered to shelter Helena until I can set up a new house.”
“And Robert? Have you promised to help Robert so he can marry Helena?”
“Ah, Robert. Oddly enough, I have an acquaintance in East Africa who is looking for someone to manage his sizable coffee farm while he is away.”
“Really?” I asked suspiciously.
He gave me an enigmatic smile. “Hunter thinks it will be ideal for him. I have a feeling that in time, my friend will be willing to sell him the farm. I think Helena will like Africa.”
“There’s Freddy to be taken care of yet. I dislike the thought of him being allowed to escape without repercussion of his foul actions.”
“Your cousin will be taken care of,” Griffin said with a grim note of promise in his voice that I decided I would not investigate. Whatever Freddy suffered, he had coming to him.
“I see,” I said gravely. “And what about us, do you think I would marry a man who cannot even provide me with a home?”
He looked at me, his amber eyes glowing with an incandescent light. We stared deeply into each other’s eyes, then he grinned that charming, irresistible, boyish grin.
“Won’t you?” he asked, pulling onto his lap, his hand sliding under my skirt, up the length of my bare leg.
“Well,” I said softly as I nibbled his ear, “as you are asking, I suppose I will.”
About the Author
For as long as she can remember, Katie MacAlister has loved reading. Growing up in a family where a weekly visit to the library was a given, Katie spent much of her time with her nose buried in a book. Despite her love for novels, she didn’t think of writing them until she was contracted to write a non-fiction book about software. Since her editor refused to allow her to include either witty dialogue or love scenes in the software book, Katie swiftly resolved to switch to fiction, where she could indulge in world building, tormenting characters, and falling madly in love with all her heroes.