The coins went back into the purse and the governor licked his lips nervously. One less prisoner would go quite unremarked in the maelstrom and he would not be forced to account for the loss. It was unlikely that this Brigitte Roberts would come to trial for months and a simple explanation that she had died of typhus would be easily accepted. But the thought of visiting the women's wards and cells filled him with dread. Did this unpleasantly determined young lady know what she was talking about with her blithe announcement that she would find the prisoner herself? If not, she would suffer considerable shock to her composure. The idea pleased the befuddled governor, who was accustomed to reigning supreme and in peace over his section of h.e.l.l.

"You must find her yourself," he said slyly. "I will accompany you to the women's section, but the bail must be put up in advance." He made great play with a file of papers. "Ah, here it is. Brigitte . . .?"

"Roberts," Danielle supplied, prepared to play his game.

"Ah, yes," he muttered, scrutinizing a sc.r.a.p of paper. "Bail is set for one hundred guineas."

Danielle counted out the sum without complaint. It was extortion but little enough to pay for a child's life and sanity. "No, Governor," she said as he made to pocket the coins. "The money remains here until I have the child. My chaise and coachman await me outside the gates and should any harm befall me . . ." She left the sentence unfinished, but drunk though he was the governor had no need of expansion. He led the way to the female side of the prison.

There were two wards and two cells inhabited by the women sent here for every gradation of crime; the untried mingled with those under sentence of death in a situation of unspeakable over-crowding. Danielle reeled as the stench hit her. Half-naked women crowded against the railing at their approach, begging and cursing, hands thin as birds' talons thrust between the bars. Children tumbled and wailed, trampled underfoot as their mothers surged toward the extraordinary sight of wealth outside their cage.

There was no bedding that Danielle could see on the filth-encrusted floor. In these surroundings the women cooked, washed, ate, and slept in the company of their children, many of whom had first seen daylight behind these bars and knew no other. Those who did achieve their release would find themselves back again soon enough, but on their own behalfs and not their mothers'.

Danielle thought of the rings on her fingers, the purse in her pocket, and knew that she could not go into the cage with them on her person. The governor was watching her reactions with a complacent smile.

"You!" Danielle turned imperatively to the turnkey. "You will go immediately outside the gate and bring my coachman to me."

The turnkey looked at the governor for confirmation of the order and receiving no sign either way obeyed. Danny tried to hide her hopelessness as she looked at the phalanx of women ranged against the bars. How was she to find a petrified twelve-year-old amongst this ferocious crowd? The smell of liquor was rank in the air-the women might be short of food and water for was.h.i.+ng, but gin seemed in plentiful supply.

The jailer returned after what seemed to Danielle an eternity, but he was accompanied by Malcolm, whose broad shoulders and impressive livery rea.s.sured Danielle and had the hoped-for effect on the governor. "You will hold these for me," she said, stripping off her rings and handing them to Malcolm, together with her purse and her cloak. "Unlock the door."

"My lady, you can't go in there," the governor demurred, painfully affected by the reality of the stony-faced, liveried coachman and the sudden thought of what might happen to him should the Countess of Linton suffer injury.

"Well, it is clear that someone must," Danielle replied impatiently. "Send one of your men."

"I ain't goin' in among that lot." The turnkey backed away. "They'd 'ave me eyes out, soon as look at me."

"Oh, do not be absurd. You must be removing women from in there all the time."

The governor refrained from saying that it was a rare occurrence and when it did happen his men required the company of half a dozen others and the comforting presence of muskets. Since no such event had been antic.i.p.ated on what had been a peaceful morning, he had neither the men nor the firearms available.

"Unlock the door," Danielle repeated, steeling herself for the inevitable when the uncomfortable silence looked as if it would go on forever.

Justin walked into Watier's to be informed that a member of his household had been in search of him but an hour since. As he received this message he was hailed by the Marquis of Louden.

"Justin, 'pon my soul. Your men appear to have been searching all over town for you. I received one myself not above half an hour ago."

"Indeed, George." Linton frowned. "Was there any message?"

"No. He wished to know if I knew your whereabouts. I suggested he might find you with the master." The master in question was the noted fencer, Armand Gaillard, who made a very satisfactory living matching his skill with that of the Quality.

"I was there, but must have left before the messenger arrived." Linton could not hide his anxiety from his friend. "If you will excuse me, George, I had best discover what so urgently requires my presence."

"Of course, dear boy," the marquis a.s.sured. "Tis to be hoped it's nothing serious. Lady Danny is quite well, I trust?"

"She was when last I spoke with her. I daresay Peter has written one of his formidable speeches for me to deliver to the Lords and is anxious to ensure that I do not miss the debate." He made his tone light and the marquis laughed, gracefully accepting that Linton did not choose to share his obvious concern.

Tomas was walking my lord's chestnuts along St. James's when Linton reappeared on the steps of his club. Without a word, Justin took the reins and sprang into the curricle giving the tiger barely time to jump up behind as the horses leaped forward under the flick of the whip.

"What's amiss, Bedford?" Justin asked directly, pulling off his gloves as he strode into the hall.

"Her Ladys.h.i.+p left a message for you, my lord, before she left with the French persons." Bedford managed to convey, in spite of his impa.s.sive expression and calmly polite tone, exactly what he thought of the "French persons." He handed Linton the folded paper.

"Thank you." Justin went into the library before opening the message, his heart pounding uncomfortably. What he read sent him into a panic-stricken fury the like of which he had never before experienced. His wife, nearly five months pregnant, had dared to venture alone into that abyss of human misery and degradation that was Newgate. And she had broken her word-the one thing he had relied on without question. It mattered not that she had made no attempt to deceive him, had searched all over town for him, had gone on her errand with his coachman in attendance. His orders had been absolute and her promise made without condition.

White-faced, Justin yanked the bellpull and gave instructions for the curricle to be brought round again immediately. The horses were still in harness and Tomas, with a resigned shrug at this unusually unpredictable behavior of My Lord's, brought them out of the stables and back to the square.

"Where we goin', me lord," he gasped, hanging on for dear life as the horses, given their heads, raced through the streets causing all traffic in their path to cower against the curb.

"To Newgate," the earl spat out furiously and Tomas gawped in disbelief. It had to be Her Ladys.h.i.+p up to her tricks again, he thought. Nothing else could throw His Lords.h.i.+p into such a towering rage. But what the devil took her to Newgate?

The Linton chaise stood outside the gates of the prison. Of Malcolm there was no sign and the horses vrere being held by two men and a distraught woman, none of whom seemed capable of controlling the tossing heads and stamping hooves. A crowd of interested spectators shouted advice, much of it coa.r.s.e and not at all to the point, and their yells merely served to exacerbate the highly bred beasts.

Linton sprang down and handed the reins to Tomas. "Do what you can," he instructed tersely. "I'll send Malcolm out directly."

"I'll 'elp, me lord." A scrawny urchin appeared suddenly at Linton's feet. "Ah'm good wiv 'osses." Darting to the chaise he began to soothe the leaders with a series of clicking noises that unaccountably appeared to calm them.

"I'll manage, me lord," Tomas said. 'The lad knows what he's about."

Justin strode to the gate. This time it opened instantly. Something extraordinary was going on this morning, and clearly anyone who had anything to do with the chaise and the lady had business inside the jail.

"You'll be wantin' the women's side," one of the guards offered as Justin stood for a moment irresolute, looking around the bewildering number of low buildings. "Leastways, that's where Bill took the coachman." He jerked a thumb to the left and laughed coa.r.s.ely. "Jest follow your nose when you're inside. Can't miss it that way."

Justin tossed him a s.h.i.+lling and followed instructions.

"Unlock the door," Danielle said for the third time, controlling her shudder of horror. "I have not all day to waste on this tedious business."

Tedious! This fearsome little creature actually had the temerity to refer to the prospect of entering that h.e.l.lhole as tedious! The governor gazed at her in awe and then gave the order to the turnkey.

Danielle walked into the cage, her hand deep in her coat pocket. The door clanged shut behind her and she was imprisoned in Newgate in the company of women who were more beast than human as they tugged at her clothes and begged piteously. For as long as she stayed in sight of the governor she was safe, but the women who surrounded her were the strongest, the leaders of the community who were able to achieve the front ranks. A twelve-year-old newcomer would not be found here.

"Let me pa.s.s," she commanded. "If you will find one Brigitte Roberts for me, you will be rewarded, I promise."

"What wiv, me lady?" someone whined, touching the lace at Danielle's throat. With a supreme effort Danielle pushed the hand aside.

"With guineas," she said shortly, averting her head from the foul breath. But the rankness was on all sides, a fetid miasma of disease-laden air. Something fluttered, the beat of a bird's wing deep in her belly, and Danielle paled-the life in her womb quickening for the first time in this place? She suddenly realized that in her efforts to save the life of a complete stranger she was endangering the life of her own child, of Linton's child.

"Get out of my way!" She pushed through the women who, for the moment surprised, fell back providing her with a path as narrow and unlikely as Moses1 path across the Red Sea. Danielle marched through them and called Brigitte's name. But as she walked, the path closed behind her, shutting her off from the eyes of the three men outside the cage. She fought down the desperate fear, the knowledge that she was taking an unconscionable risk with so much more than her own safety. At the very end of the ward a group of semi-naked girls and women cowered in abject terror. She called the name again and a thin figure, her gown ripped from her back, face and hair thick with filth, looked up with dull eyes.

"You are Brigitte Roberts?" Danielle's voice was harsher than she'd intended, but her own fear was too raw now. What had happened to the child in such a short time to reduce her to this state? But there was no time for speculation. At the girl's nod she seized her wrist and pulled her to herfeet, turning back to face what was now an impenetrable menacing wall.

"Wat's she got that we ain't?" a voice demanded. "Wat's a foine lady like you doin', takin' the likes of her outa 'ere?"

"Yeah, thas roight!" the voices rumbled, took up the cry. "Why 'er?"

"Because she's done nothing wrong," Danielle said brusquely as her heart hammered against her ribcage. "Let us through."

"Wat you goin' to do fer us, then, my foine loidy?" An Amazon of a woman stepped forward to stand chest to chest with Danielle. Brigitte screamed and the woman flicked Danielle's hat with a grimy finger. "This'll fetch a pretty penny," she said with an evil grin, showing a mouth of blackened stumps and huge gaps. The next instant, Danielle's hat had left her head. "An' all this lace," the woman went on. "That's worth a few bottles of gin, eh, girls?" Her fingers caught the lace and there was a sudden ripping sound.

For an unreal moment, Danielle was again the urchin Danny fighting for survival in a Parisian backalley. She kicked out and her booted foot made contact with her tormentor's s.h.i.+n. It was a mistake, she realized hopelessly in the instant of action. Someone pushed her heavily from behind and she sprawled against the woman at her front. And then they were all on her, nails raking her face, fists punching into her arms, feet kicking wherever they could. The front of her habit tore under a pair of vicious talons that bit into the tender flesh of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. In the first moments of terror Danielle had forgotten the pistol, but when the child, whose hand she still held somehow in a clutch as desperate asa dying man's, screamed again in hideous terror something clicked in her mind like the tumbrils of a safe and a cold wash of determination replaced the panic. For a second she fought with all the ferociousness of the women surrounding her until she got the hand that was not holding Brigitte free from a painful grip. The pistol was out of her pocket in an instant. She aimed high, but at this point cared not a jot whether the bullet found a human target. There was a shrill scream and her a.s.sailants fell back at the sight of the smoking weapon. Danielle, knowing she had but seconds before they realized the pistol was now useless until reloaded, hauled the whimpering figure beside her through the crowd that gave way in stunned silence.

Justin heard the shot as he entered the building and for a petrifying moment the vigorous pumping of his heart seemed to falter, then it picked up again as a rush of adrenaline drove him at a run in the direction of the sound. What he saw as he reached the group of men outside the railing emptied his soul of all but blind rage. His wife, torn, bedraggled, blood streaking her face and exposed bosom, hair a bird's nest of tangles, emerged from the sullen ranks of hard-eyed women, a pistol in one hand and quite the filthiest sc.r.a.p of humanity in the other.

She appeared not to notice him until Malcolm stuttered, "My lord, I ... I ..."

"Give me those." Linton gestured to the purse, rings, and cloak. "Go and help Tomas with the horses. He has eight to care for."

"Yes, my lord." Malcolm scurried away, convinced that he was to be turned off without a recommendation as a result of this day's work. But he had simply obeyed orders. Perhaps he should have gone into that h.e.l.l himself... he shuddered at the thought. There was only so much an employer could expect of his servants and Her Ladys.h.i.+p had never once given him the opportunity to offer the sacrifice.

"Linton." Danielle looked at her husband with strangely blank eyes. "I have paid this cochon"-she pointed at the trembling governor-"one hundred guineas as bail for Brigitte. I do not think he deserves it. You will retrieve the monies, if you please." Her voice shook suddenly. "Do you see what they have done to the child, in no more than four hours? Give me my cloak." She pulled it out of his hands and made to wrap it around the s.h.i.+vering figure.

"You will wear this yourself, ma'am." Justin whisked it away. "If you could only see yourself." He threw the cloak around her, pulling the hood over her head. "The child will do well enough with a blanket. Fetch me one." He turned to the governor, who shrank from the blazing black eyes.

"I'd ... d ... do not know where to find one, my lord," he stuttered.

"Then give me your coat, it will do as well."

Having the firm conviction that if he did not the jacket would be torn from his back, the governor pulled it off hastily.

"The money," Danielle said fiercely. "I will not leave here without it. It is in the room of this bete. He shall have not one penny and if he does not bring it I shall . . ."

"Be silent!" Linton clipped. "You will do only as you are told!"

Little Brigitte began to weep helplessly. "Now look what you have done," Danielle accused. "Come, pet.i.te. Put on the coat and I will take you to your maman. She is waiting for you outside with ton pere and grandpere. You shall all come to my house where you may wash that filth from your hair and I will find you a gown to replace the one you have lost." She turned to her husband. "You will retrieve the money, please, and then we shall be done with this unpleasantness."

"It is a long way from being done with, Danielle," he said with soft menace. "You may give what orders you please as to the care of the child and her family and I will deal with this . . . person . . ." He gestured disdainfully toward the cowering governor. "And then I shall deal with you." This last was said for her ears only and Danielle bit her lip as the walls of her determination began to crumble under the sure knowledge of her escape from one horror and the equal certainty that she was facing an icy rage, controlled now but barely so. Her eyes met Justin's in frightened appeal but there was no softening in the stony blue black gaze. She turned back to Brigitte.

"Come, let us leave this place." Taking the girl's hand again, she walked stiff-backed down the corridor and out into the March sunlight.

Justin watched the rigid stance, thought of what she had been through, of the reckless impulse that had put herself and their child in acute danger, and for a moment his rage turned on himself. He had allowed her too much freedom, yielded too often to the self-determination that was not the right of any woman, any wife. He was her husband and husbands must be obeyed. He had been gullible for long enough, tolerant and easygoing for long enough. She had betrayed his trust and taken advantage of his understanding. He swung round to vent his pent-up fury on the governor and within minutes had the hundred guineas in his pocket and was striding across the courtyard, leaving h.e.l.l upon earth at his back.

Had he been capable of the softer emotions at this point, he would have found the scene outside the jail affecting. The child was sobbing in the arms of her weeping family while Danielle, swathed in the cloak, stood to one side. The horses under the care of Malcolm, Tomas, and the urchin stood quietly in spite of the emotions of the spectators who yelled encouragement or wept tears of vicarious sympathy for the happy reunion.

But Justin, Earl of Linton, was filled only with a black glacier of rage and it would be much later before he recalled the scene and saw truly what his wife had achieved. He broke up the group like an avenging angel, sweeping his wife, in mid-sentence into the curricle, ordering Malcolm to follow them with the Robertses to Grosvenor Square. The urchin was told that if he wished for a job in the Linton stables he should go along with Malcolm, and the wiry figure scrambled onto the box of the chaise, a delighted beam on the grubby face.

"Let go their heads, Tomas." The tiger obeyed instantly, glad that he was not in Lady Danny's shoes at the moment. The anger radiating from my lord's powerful frame was an almost palpable force, although he spoke not a word throughout the entire journey.

Danielle sat beside him, shrouded in the cloak, the hood pulled well down over her scratched face. She began to s.h.i.+ver with aftermath and trepidation. Never had she seen her husband look as he did now, and never had she been so devoid of ideas as to how to placate him.

The curricle drew up outside Linton House and the chaise followed almost immediately. Justin alighted and lifted his wife from the seat. Ignoring her protestations he carried her into the house. "Send for Dr. Stuart, Bedford, and ask the housekeeper to see to the needs of the family. She will know what to do."

"Yes, my lord." Bedford bowed, discreetly ignoring the small figure in His Lords.h.i.+p's arms. What a to-do in a n.o.bleman's household! But the butler was supreme at his job and with very few members of the staff any the wiser, had the Robertses ensconced in a back bedchamber, a footman dispatched to Harley Street, and everyone continuing about their business as if nothing untoward had occurred.

"Justin, I do not wish to see Stuart," Danielle declared unwisely as he set her on her feet in her bedchamber.

"I have no interest whatsoever in your wishes, madam," he informed her coldly. "Molly, you will fetch boiling water, towels, salve, and antiseptic immediately." Molly, completely at sea as to what catastrophe had transpired, bobbed a curtsy and fled the room, glad to be away from this suddenly awful presence of her master.

Justin unfastened the thick cloak and tossed it over a chair, still holding Danielle by a supporting arm. He examined her appearance with visible distaste. "You are a disgusting sight. Just look at yourself." His voice shook with'suppressed fury as he pushed her in front of the pier gla.s.s.

Danielle averted her head, shrinking from the image of the bedraggled creature. In addition to the oozing scratches on face and b.r.e.a.s.t.s, large bruises were purpling on her cheek and arms and the ones on her legs and back throbbed beneath the ripped garments. She said nothing as Justin stripped away her clothes, throwing them into a heap on the floor.

"Get on the bed," he rasped, and she stumbled to obey, desperately thinking of something she could say that would return her husband to this stranger's body. But nothing came to mind and then Molly reappeared, staggering under the weight of a steaming jug and her other burdens. "Fill the ewer and bring it here," the unfamiliar harsh voice instructed. "Thank you. Take those clothes and burn them; then you may await Dr. Stuart belowstairs. Show him up as soon as he arrives."

Danielle heard the door close on the only friend she appeared to have at this moment and fought down the hot sparking tears of misery and fright.

"This will hurt." Justin shook antiseptic onto a towel, "but there is no knowing what filth those women carry beneath their nails." He washed the scratches thoroughly and she held herself rigidly still beneath the stinging pain of the antiseptic and his minute exploration of every inch of her skin for further open wounds. He washed her from head to toe with scalding water, lifting her limbs, turning her over with all the detachment he might have shown to a rag doll. And Danielle endured in silence. There was nothing rough about his movements as he anointed the bruises with cool salve, but there was little of tenderness, either. When he handed her a nightgown she put it on, her embryo protest at bed-in-the-afternoon dying in the face of that cold mask and thin lips.

Dr. Stuart bustled into the room with many apologies for the delay in responding to the summons. He'd been attending a birthing, but all had gone well, thanks be. Now what was amiss with My Lady Linton? His tone was jocular until he realized from the grim set of the earl's expression and the ashen face of the countess on the pillow that such an approach was inappropriate.

"Her Ladys.h.i.+p has suffered an accident-a fall from her horse," Linton informed him. "I am concerned about the child." There was the slightest emphasis on the "I" and Danielle's spirit curled in on itself in despair. How could he think that she was not also concerned? But then she had given him little evidence to believe so.

Stuart, tut-tutting in a suitably anxious tone, begged leave to examine Her Ladys.h.i.+p and Justin, without a word, pulled back the sheet and stood beside the bed as the doctor prodded Danielle's abdomen, asked if there was any pain, and then asked if she had yet felt the child quicken.

"This morning," Danielle said in a dull monotone, "for the first time."

"Was this before the fall, my lady?" Stuart asked, continuing to palpate her belly that still showed only the smallest curvature.

"Yes," she said unhappily, seeing Justin turn away with a muttered exclamation. How could she explain in front of the doctor that by the time she had felt the life stirring in her womb she had gone too far to withdraw. And would it have made any difference anyway? She had certainly forgot the fact of her pregnancy wben she had taken up the cudgels for Brigitte Roberts, but even reminded of it she would not have done otherwise. It was quite inescapable and there were no apologies she was prepared to make. Something had happened that she could have done nothing to prevent. She would have gone into that cage to rescue Brigitte Roberts if the need had arisen four months hence as automatically as she had done so while her pregnancy was still invisible and unknown to all but the few.

"As there is no pain, my lord, and no bleeding we can hope thattto damage has been done." Stuart pulled the sheet up. "It would be best if Her Ladys.h.i.+p remained in bed for three days and she should take an opiate now to still any restlessness. If her body is quiet then any disturbance to the child will be remedied."

"That will be done," Justin said. "How soon will it be safe for her to travel?"

"I would not advise a long journey, my lord."

"I am not suggesting one, just into Hamps.h.i.+re, by slow stages."

"In three days, then. If there are no adverse signs in the meantime."

Danielle listened to a conversation that was about her but took no account of her presence. She was powerless to interrupt, to demand what her husband had in mind, to protest the draught of laudanum that Stuart was pouring from a small vial-powerless until the physician left and she could face her husband in privacy.

She turned her head away, though, when the physician offered her the opiate and Justin said, "You may leave that with me."

"As you wish, my lord." The door closed behind Molly and Stuart.

"Drink this." Justin picked up the gla.s.s.

"No." Danielle sat up in fierce determination. "I have no need of it. I will rest, if that is what you wish, but I will not be drugged. Justin, please let us discuss what has happened. I do not think you understand . . .".

"I understand well enough," he interrupted harshly. "I understand that you are not to be trusted to take a care for yourself or for our child in your womb; that you are not to be trusted to keep your word and from this moment on I shall make a proper wife of you, madam. I accept full share of the blame but I will correct my faults as you will correct yours. Now, drink."

"No." But he moved behind her, catching her head in the crook of his arm, holding her with one arm as the other reached for the gla.s.s.

"You will," he hissed, tilting her head backward. Hermouth opened in protest and Justin tipped the contents of the gla.s.s down her throat, clamping her mouth shut until she swallowed with a choking gasp.