Secrets of the Heart (33 page)

“How can I sleep? I must get home!” Urgency spoke through her words, sparked in her eyes.

“Lady Madeline, be reasonable. We have both been through a terrible trauma, but for now we are safe, and the best thing we can do is sleep and regain our strength so we can take up the fight tomorrow. We will discuss what to do next in the morning, after we hear from the authorities. I do not want you in harm’s way again, especially when I am not equipped to protect you.”

Madeline heard him out, her face conflicted. Just then Amanda peeked in the room.

Devlin beckoned to her. “Lady Madeline, I want you and Amanda to get something to eat. Then keep Amanda with you. Ask Mrs. Sharpe to have Wiggins remain on guard outside your room and get some sleep. Both of you.” He turned toward Madeline. “Please, Lady Madeline, do as I say.”

She nodded reluctantly. He watched, his heart in his throat, as she left the room with Amanda holding Madeline’s hand. He cursed Sullivan for the wound that had kept him from protecting her as he should.

C
HAPTER 22

Decisions can take you out of God’s
will but never out of His reach.

—A
NONYMOUS

G
OOD HEAVENS, WHAT
a nightmare!” Madeline awoke with a start to discover herself tangled in the bedsheets. She shuddered and tried to ward off unwanted images.

She heard the sound of scurrying and an insistent rapping. “Are you well, Lady Madeline?” Mrs. Sharpe called from the other side of the door. “Is anything amiss?”

“Just a moment. I’m fine.” She looked down at Amanda, who lay on a mattress on the floor. “Let her in, will you?”

Amanda hurried to the door and let Mrs. Sharpe inside.

“I just had a bad dream and must have called out in my sleep,” Madeline explained as she untangled the sheets.

“Very good. I am relieved. I thought there was trouble, and I just sent Wiggins away.” Mrs. Sharpe looked her over. “It looks as though you were wrestling with demons in your sleep.”

“You could say that.” Gloom fell over her, and she wondered when Ravensmoore would take her away from Ashcroft. “How is Dr. Grayson this morning?”

“Improved and overdoing it already.”

“Thank God.” Her nerves were taut as a bow ready to release its arrow. The dream loomed vividly in her mind. “I dreamed I was back in the pit.”

“’Tis understandable. I will take Amanda with me so you can dress. She can sit with Dr. Grayson’s mother. Come, Amanda.”

Madeline hugged Amanda before she left with Mrs. Sharpe. “Take good care of Lady Ravensmoore, Amanda. I will see you later.” They left, closing the door behind them.

Madeline stood barefoot on the hard cold floor, shivering in her chemise. She looked at her clothes lying in a heap where she’d discarded them. How could she get access to a clean set of clothing? She longed for a warm bath.

She shivered again, not from the cold, but from the nightmare. The closed windows, shutting out the fresh air, increased her sense of panic. The pit haunted her.

Refusing to dwell on the dream any longer, she surveyed the room for possibilities and spied her trunk sitting in the corner. An answered prayer, she thought, gratefully. Perhaps Mrs. Sharpe was responsible for this blessing. Daisy had packed the trunk, but this was the first time she’d seen it since entering Ashcroft. She knew that many of the patients never received their personal items or clothing.
Sullivan probably sold them for his own gain.

Madeline noticed the broken latch. She moved toward the chest and opened the lid. “Oh no.” Someone had pillaged the trunk, leaving only a few undergarments and two day dresses. She touched the soft material, so different from the coarse fabric that most of the patients wore at Ashcroft. Holding it to her nose she breathed in the clean scent of lavender that reminded her of home.

“Now, if I only had a place to bathe.” She looked at the pitcher and basin on the small chest of drawers and wished them a tub filled with steaming water. But memories of the frigid bath she’d endured under Thomas and Hugh suddenly made the basin and pitcher appear inviting. She poured the cold water into the bowl and picked up a thin cloth. Soaking it through, she made quick work of washing herself.

Donning the clean undergarments, Madeline peered into the trunk at her choice of dresses. “Blue or green?” She gazed at one muslin garment and then the other, holding them against her one at a time. “Green it is.”

Brushing back her hair, which was in desperate need of washing, she flinched when a tiny spider spilled from one tendril, dangling by an invisible thread. Her first instinct was to bat it away, but something stopped her.

The spider was no danger to her. And in this place where sanity and insanity blurred together, she felt sympathy for the tiny, vulnerable creature. She floated the spider to the floor on the invisible thread and watched it scurry under the door.

Feeling better, she followed the spider’s lead. Madeline opened the door just a crack and peered out into the empty hallway.

“Lady Madeline, you are awake!” Ravensmoore strode down the hall, a smile lighting his face. Someone had supplied him with a fresh shirt open at the collar. Despite the circumstances, a pleasant thrill of excitement raced through her. He looked rakishly handsome even in this hellhole.

“Good morning, Dr. Grayson.” She returned his smile, then dropped her eyes, afraid he might see more in them than she was willing to share at this point.

“Are you all right?” Ravensmoore asked.

She raised her eyes, regarding him. “Yes, but I must get home as soon as possible. Will you help me?”

His eyes darkened. “You cannot leave. I know this is hard for you, but it is far too dangerous for you to return to Richfield.”

“Why?” Now that she was rested and recovered, her first priority must be her mother. Why could he not understand that?

“If you were to go to your mother now and Vale discovered you there, God knows what might happen. I don’t think he will harm her in the next few days. His plan is probably for a slow decline.”

“You don’t know that for certain, do you?” She moved forward and gripped his arm. “Please. Surely, you don’t think I need to remain here.”

“Of course, you don’t
need
to stay here, but you
need
to be careful.” He pulled Madeline back into her room and gently tilted her chin up to look her in the eyes. “Listen to me. I can’t have you running off to Richfield without me. I’m needed here. Langford cannot take care of all these sick people by himself.”

“I know. I’m just so worried. I cannot help but feel something is terribly wrong. Vale promised that if I made trouble, he would punish my mother.”

“I doubt Sullivan has told Vale what happened yesterday. He was just trying to save his own neck by getting out of here as soon as possible. We will go together to Richfield, just as soon as possible. I promise.”

“Dr. Grayson.” Mrs. Sharpe rushed toward them. “It’s your mother. She’s taken a turn for the worse. Come quickly.”

Ravensmoore glanced at Madeline, unable to conceal his concern. “We’ll talk later. Stay here,” he ordered. “I’ll send Wiggins.”

Madeline watched Ravensmoore disappear from sight. Returning to her room, she paced restlessly up and down. She couldn’t stay here. She just couldn’t.

She made up her mind, no matter the consequences. Scrawling out a quick note, she let Ravensmoore know where she’d gone. Then she stepped outside the room, determined to make her escape.

Elethea gasped for breath. Devlin knelt next to her, Dr. Langford opposite him. “Mother, I’m here.” He took her hand and felt her squeeze it in response, but she could not speak, only cling to every breath, curled in a ball on her side.

“What else can be done?” he asked Langford.

“I don’t think there is anything we can do except pray. It is out of our hands. She will either survive this attack or succumb to it.”

“I won’t let that happen.” Anger and helplessness overwhelmed him. “There must be something.” Devlin looked around the room. “There
is
something.” He reached a chair in two long strides and dragged it to his mother’s cot.

He looked at Langford’s doubtful expression and thought he might throttle his teacher. “Just help me.” Devlin felt the pull of stitches in his back and silently groaned as he and Langford assisted Elethea into the chair.

“Sitting up may help you breathe easier, Mother. I’ll be right here with you. Now close your eyes. I’ll get you through this.” Devlin bowed his head in silent prayer. He held his mother’s hand and willed air into her fragile lungs. God must have a plan if He’d brought them together after all these years of separation. To lose her now would be unbearable. He tried to quell the anger that welled inside him against his father. The man had never been tender and he’d always been closer to Edward, but that was only natural, wasn’t it? Edward was the heir, or should have been the heir. The title suited him to perfection.

His thoughts drifted to Madeline and her mother and all that family had endured. He couldn’t expect Madeline not to go to Richfield when the opportunity presented itself—her mother was the only family Madeline had left. He’d been near ready to lock her in a cell just to keep her here, but then that would have destroyed any sense of trust he’d been able to engender.

He’d do everything he could to help her as soon as he knew his mother was out of danger.

Madeline looked over her shoulder. A sense of relief mingled with encroaching guilt gripped her heart as Ashcroft Asylum disappeared from sight. She didn’t enjoy deceiving Ravensmoore, but she felt she had no choice. She had to help her mother. She’d waited too long already.

She’d encountered Wiggins when she’d entered the barn looking for a horse. He knew of a couple old mules kept in a remote shed away from the barn. The two of them rode through woods and fields heavy with the green of spring. “There it is, Wiggins. Richfield.” The midmorning sun shone down on the rambling manor house and grounds, bestowing them with a warm glow. She could not believe how much she had missed home, but most of all she had missed her mother. She’d taken both for granted.

Madeline kicked the old mule forward, anxious to be home.

As they approached the stables, Madeline spotted a familiar figure. Donavan looked up from his work and wiped his grimy hands on his work trousers. “Lady Madeline! You’re back!” A smile of relief spread over his face but quickly faded when he caught site of Wiggins. “Is this man dangerous?” He helped her dismount all the while she watched him watching Wiggins.

“Thank you, Donavan. I’m glad to be home. This is Andrew Wiggins from the asylum. He aided me in his escape.”

Donavan nodded. “Are you all right, my lady? I sent word to Countess Gilling soon as I could.”

“You and Agnes saved my life, Donavan. Lady Gilling notified Lord Ravensmoore, and he came to help me. I am indebted to Mr. Wiggins also. Is Lord Vale here?”

“No, Lady Madeline. Lord Vale left yesterday.”

“Thank God. Do you know where he went and when he will return?”

“No, my lady. He’s as tight-lipped as a corpse.”

“How is my mother?”

Donavan’s face turned stony with sorrow. “The same,” he reported. “Agnes is with her now.”

“I must go to her immediately. Thank you, Donavan. You and Mr. Wiggins have something in common. I will let you get acquainted.”