Read Online A Death for a Cause by Caroline Dunford - Free Book Online Page A

nature.’
    â€˜Oh, dear God,’ said Martha. ‘This is unbearable.’
    Under Constance’s guidance, we managed to surround the bucket, so that each woman could use it in a semblance of privacy. We were all more than aware that only bars separated us from the view of any passing guard.
    Even Abigail was not exempt from the natural happenings of the human form and also had to take advantage of our makeshift water closet. I was extremely glad the bucket provided was on the larger side.
    It was a humbling experience for us all. I imagined that if Rory or Bertram had been forced to endure such an experience they would have retreated to their individual areas and turned their backs, but with us women the hardship had bonded us. We exchanged friendly ‘good nights’ and jocular hopes that we might sleep well, as we laid down in the darkness and prepared for rest.
    To my surprise I did sleep well. I woke as dawn crept through the bars of the window. The light was weak, so I surmised the day was newly broken. I blinked to bring the cell into focus. I appeared to be the only one awake. Around me the women lay in various attitudes of reclining. Some had lain fully on the floor, like Abigail and Maisie. The Pettigrew sisters had slept sitting on the bench, leaning against the wall and each other. Their chins were sunk deep on their chests and as I watched Eunice uttered a snorting sound. Martha Lake had fallen onto one side and took up more than her fair share of the bench. Two other dark shapes on the floor I took to be Angela and Mary.
    My headache had fled, but my back felt as stiff as a board. I wiggled my toes experimentally. They worked. I sat up carefully. Pain shot through my lower back and I almost cried out. I would not have been surprised if I had actually creaked as I pushed myself up to a sitting position.
    â€˜Euphemia St John,’ came a male voice behind me. ‘You’re wanted.’
    Close to the bars was a man’s face, illuminated in a most unflattering manner by the small lantern he held.
    â€˜For goodness’ sake, be quiet!’ I commanded. ‘You’ll wake them.’ The man snorted and unlocked the door. ‘And send a man to change the bucket. It will be needed again when they awaken.’
    The man banged the door shut as I stepped through. He locked the door and then caught me in a painful armlock. Taken by surprise I could only gasp. ‘I don’t know who you think you are,’ he spat in my ear, ‘but I don’t take my orders from whores like you!’ He did not allow me to walk myself, but frogmarched me down the corridor. I twisted my neck to look back at him. ‘For heaven’s sake,’ I began, and I intended to finish you can drop the act now they can no longer see us , when I saw the maniacal glint in his eye. This was not, as I had supposed, one of Fitzroy’s men. Then I recalled Mark had said he was the one here. I felt a wave as fear. Where was I being taken and why, if not to the spy? Mary’s and Abigail’s warnings wormed their way into my treacherous heart, which began to beat most alarmingly fast.
    â€˜Frightened now, are you?’ asked the hateful voice at my ear. ‘So you should be. This place is being soft on you women. At my last station we knew how to treat you. With chains. With whips. It’s all your kind are good for. The good Lord gave you a place and you should keep it. Those that won’t deserve all they get as far as I’m concerned. Women like you are fit for only one thing!’
    At this end of this charming speech he thrust me through a door. ‘Ten minutes. That’s your lot,’ he growled, and slammed the door behind me. The small room had no windows and was lit only by a candle lantern on the table. Sat on a small hard chair was the last person I had expected to see: Richenda Muller. In front of her was a box.
    â€˜Oh for heaven’s sake, Euphemia,’