The hackney slowed, and for the first time she seemed to notice they were over on the other side of the river, in Lambeth.
“Where are we going?” she said sharply.
Gabriel smiled. “We’re going to visit Lady Appleby.”
“Martin O’Donnelly sent word after you’d gone up to bed,” Gabriel explained. “It seems that when the asylum burned down she was moved into a smaller establishment, beside the river, but still in Lambeth.”
A moment later the hackney set them down. A single gas lamp fought a losing battle with the shadows. Antoinette could smell the
dankness of the river, although it was hidden from view by fog. Gabriel pointed out the house that was their destination, and Antoinette saw a narrow brick frontage, a bare garden, and the flicker of light behind the curtain in an upstairs window.
“Someone is about.” Gabriel led the way to the front door. “Are you ready for this, sparrow?”
“Of course I’m ready,” she said, as if there was never any doubt.
He rapped on the door.
Footsteps and muttering, and the sound of a bolt being drawn. The door opened and a wizened face peered out, so wrinkled and discolored it reminded Antoinette of an apple that had been in storage all winter. “What you want?” it demanded rudely. “We don’t take parish cases. This is a private establishment.”
“I wish to see one of your patients,” Gabriel announced pompously. “I am Dr. Long and I have here the sister of Mrs. Miller. Open up, my good chap, and let us in.”
Antoinette was so astonished by his ability to playact that she nearly missed the wary reply.
“I don’t know whether we ’as anyone of that name here.”
“Now listen to me, my good man.” Gabriel’s voice turned belligerent. “I don’t have time to stand out here in this blasted fog. When I ask—”
But Antoinette had remembered something in Miss Bridewell’s letter. “Orange,” she burst out.
The wizened face turned to her, and then it grinned toothlessly and was withdrawn. They heard more bolts and locks being turned, and the next moment the door swung wide open.
“Come in, come in,” it invited them jovially. “Welcome to River View Asylum.”
Chapter 31
The little old creature was a man, Antoinette saw now, attired in a nightgown and slippers, and with a nightcap on his head. Bizarrely, he reminded her of the boy from the nursery rhyme Wee Willie Winkie, except he wasn’t a child.
“She’s asleep. You’re going to wake her up,” he complained as he stomped up the stairs. “Takes us hours to get her to sleep sometimes.”
“Can’t be helped,” Gabriel retorted. “This is an urgent matter. I may have to move her from here. For her own safety, you understand. His Lordship is fully aware of the situation.”
The old man nodded his understanding. “His Lordship’s been rumbled, ’as he?” Slyly he tapped the side of his nose. “Been good to us, His Lordship has. Wouldn’t want anything to ’appen to him.”
“I’ll bet,” Antoinette murmured darkly, as she followed.
They passed along a dingy corridor with closed doors. There was a smell of illness and the lingering odor of cooking, but try as she might, Antoinette couldn’t see any dirt. The corridor was scrubbed clean.
The old man paused by one of the doors, giving them a hard look. “Maybe I should send word to His Lordship, just to be sure? He’s very partic’lar about Mrs. Miller.”
Gabriel was dismissive of the threat. “Please yourself. Are you aware how much His Lordship enjoys being woken in the middle of the night?”
The old man thought about that a moment, gave a grudging nod, and then proceeded to open the door. Inside, the room was dimly lit by a lamp. There was barely any furniture, the narrow bed was placed in the center, and a child with raggedly cropped fair hair, and wearing a petticoat and chemise, was lying on the covers. It was only as Antoinette ventured closer that she realized this was not a child but a small woman, and then she saw, to her horror, that the woman’s arms and legs were tied down with straps.
She was a prisoner.
The old man sensed disapproval in their silence and became defensive. “She ’as to be restrained. Tries to run off, she does. Even managed it once, and she got as far as the river before we caught her. Can’t be doing with all that fuss.”
“Mrs. Miller” was gaunt, her face all eyes and cheekbones as she turned to stare at them. Her mouth opened as if she was about to say something, and then her gaze slid past Antoinette to the old man and she closed her lips hard. Antoinette watched as her hands clenched into fists, the leather bindings cutting into her pale flesh where there were already old bruises.