CHAPTER 20

The carriage jolted and swayed as we made our way down the narrow, winding road. I gripped the edge of the seat, my knuckles white with tension. Beside me, John sat in silence, his face grim and set. He hadn't spoken much since we left his mother's house several hours ago. I wondered if the meeting with the banker was finished and Mother was now home. With a little more luck, she may not find the damage to the desk today.

In my mind, I formed a vision of what an asylum might look like, imagining a hospital of sorts with nurses and doctors. Each time I conjured that vision, tales from the gothic romances I read corrupted such a sincere view. John hadn't been able to offer any help, as he'd never seen one either.

"There's a lady on our street, an old woman who was a midwife. She talks in riddles. I wonder if the only reason she's not in one of these places is money," John said at last, breaking the silence.

"Is she disturbed?" I asked.

"Muddled. I thought she was saying random things at first. Nothing made much sense. A lot of it still doesn't make sense. I don't know. I keep thinking about what she said to me the other night. It's as if she knew what she wanted to say, but when she says it, the way it comes out isn't right." He paused and reached out to squeeze my hand. "She talks about birds a lot."

"Birds?"

"Swallows in cages can't be free."

"Strange thing for a midwife to say, in my opinion. If she'd been married to a gamekeeper, it might make more sense. I've never had a pet bird, though I've seen drawings of these fancy gold cages with little birds inside."

"Swallows?"

I shook my head. "No, mostly strange and fancy types of birds. The kind you don't see on a walk, at least not here."

"So why then would a swallow be in a cage?" John said.

"A very good question."

"I think we're here." John leaned forward to look out the window of the carriage.

A large stone building loomed beyond a high brick and iron fence. From the distance, the walls looked grey with patches of white perhaps caused by the weather. Dozens of small narrow windows dotted the front, and each one looked to have metal bars on them.

The carriage rolled to a stop before the main gate; the horses snorting and stamping in the dust. John leapt down; his hand outstretched to help me. I took it gratefully. My legs were unsteady as I stepped onto the packed earth. A high, wrought-iron fence with spikes on top glinting in the sunlight barred our way.

A guard emerged from a small gatehouse, his face hard with no smile to be seen. He looked us over, his gaze lingering on the fabric of my dress in places a gentleman would never gaze too long.

"State your business," he said gruffly, his hand resting on the wooden cub at his belt.

I drew myself up, summoning every ounce of authority I possessed. "I am Miss Hannah Sheppard, daughter of Lady Catherine Sheppard of Frogmere. I am here to inquire about a patient on my mother's behalf."

The guard's eyes widened, a flicker of recognition passing over his features. "Of course, Miss. Forgive me. I'll escort you to the matron at once."

He unlocked the gate with a heavy iron key. The hinges creaking as he moved the gate open. I stepped through, John close behind me. The gravel crunched beneath our feet as we made our way up the path; the guard leading the way.

As we made our way closer to the building, I observed the surroundings. While the front of the property looked reasonably maintained, the shadows of the large trees cast on the side hid overgrown grass, fallen branches, and pieces of discarded furniture. Nothing that would be noticed at a glance from a passing carriage on the road.

A set of large wooden doors were the next we barrier we encountered. They were made of thick, dark wood, studded with iron bolts. The guard rapped sharply on the surface, the sound echoing in the stillness.

For a long moment, there was no response. Then, with a groaning creak, one of the doors swung open, revealing a tall, thin woman in a starched white apron. Her face was pinched and severe, her grey hair pulled back into a tight bun.

"Yes?" she said, her voice clipped and impatient. "What is it?"

The guard bowed slightly, gesturing towards me. "Miss Hannah Sheppard to see you, ma'am. On behalf of Lady Catherine."

The matron's gaze snapped to me, her eyes narrowing. "Lady Catherine? I see. And what, pray tell, does Lady Catherine want with us today to warrant a visit by you and this…gentleman?"

I swallowed hard despite my mouth feeling dry. Straight back, chin up. "I am here to inquire about a patient. A woman named Maggie. My mother, Lady Catherine, has been…concerned after some reports that her instructions may not be being adhered to as required. Due to the delicate nature of this, as I'm sure you are aware, only myself as her daughter could be trusted to make the journey along with my companion."

The matron regarded me for a long moment. I was glad for the way the dress concealed my legs, otherwise surely the way they trembled would have given away my lies. At length, she gave me a curt nod. She stepped back, allowing us to enter.

The interior of the asylum was just as grim and forbidding as the exterior. The walls were bare and stained; the floors scuffed and dirty. My nose twitched as the stench of death reached it. Despite my resolve, I pulled a handkerchief from my reticule and held it below my nose. It did very little to abate the stench.

"Doctor isn't available at the moment." The matron glanced back towards a closed door. "Something urgent with one of our patients."

"Is there only one doctor for a place this size?" I asked.

"Of course. I assure you we do the very best with what we have. Now, follow me," Matron instructed.

And follow we did. Down a long, narrow corridor, we walked with the sounds of the asylum echoing around us. I could hear moans and cries, the clanking of metal, the babble of voices.

At last, we reached a heavy, iron-bound door. The matron produced a ring of keys from her apron pocket, the metal clinking as she sorted through them. She selected one, inserting it into the lock with a grating sound.

"Maggie is kept in here," she said, her voice flat and emotionless. "As per Lady Catherine's instructions, she is to be isolated from the other patients. For her own safety, of course. I can assure you and Lady Catherine I have followed every direction entrusted to me."

I felt a chill run down my spine at her words. My mother had ordered this woman to be kept in solitary confinement, locked away from any human contact or comfort. What could she possibly have done to deserve such a fate?

The window in the door swung open, revealing a small, cramped cell. The walls were bare stone, the floor nothing but packed dirt. A narrow cot stood against one wall, a thin, stained mattress its only adornment. And there, huddled in the corner, was a figure so wretched and pitiful that my heart nearly stopped.

It was a woman, or at least, it had once been a woman. Her hair was a tangled, matted mass, her skin so smeared with grime. She wore nothing but a tattered shift, the fabric hanging off her emaciated frame in filthy shreds.

I took a step forward, my hand trembling as I reached for the small, barred window set into the door. I peered through, trying to get a better look at the poor creature within.

She didn't seem to notice our presence, her gaze fixed on some distant, unseen point. She rocked back and forth, her arms wrapped around her knees, her lips moving in a silent, ceaseless litany.

"How long has she been here?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

The matron shrugged; her face was impassive. "Years. Lady Catherine has been most generous in her support of our institution, and in return, we have kept Maggie exactly as she requested. Isolated, controlled, and…compliant."

I felt a wave of nausea wash over me at her words. This was no asylum, no place of healing and care. It was a prison, a tomb for the living, where the inconvenient and the unwanted were left to rot.

I turned to the matron, my eyes blazing with fury. "I will speak with her. Alone."

The matron shook her head. "Miss, I don't think that's wise. Maggie is…unstable. She could be dangerous."

I drew myself up to my full height. Time for the endless lessons I despised in my youth to come into use. "I am not asking, madam. I am telling. You will leave us now, or I will see to it that my mother's generous donations come to an abrupt and permanent end."

The matron's face paled, her hands trembling as she fumbled with the keys. "Of…of course, Miss. As you wish."

She unlocked the door, the hinges squeaking as it swung open. I stepped inside, the smell of filth and despair nearly overwhelming me. Behind me, I heard the sound of the lock clicking back into place and the matron's footsteps retreating down the corridor.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The woman hadn't moved, hadn't given any indication that she was aware of my presence. I took a step closer, my voice soft and gentle.

"Maggie? Maggie, can you hear me?"

For a long moment, there was no response. Then, slowly, the woman raised her head, her eyes meeting mine. They were a startling blue, the only spot of colour in her wasted face.

"Who…who are you?" she rasped.

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding. "My name is Hannah. I'm…I'm here to help you."

Maggie's eyes narrowed, a flicker of suspicion passing over her features. "Help me? Why would you want to help me?"

"I don't know who you are, but I know Lady Catherine ordered you away to here," I said softly.

"So it was the old bat who did it. I spent a long time on that. Wondered who might have wanted me taken in the middle of the night, chained up, beaten. I wouldn't treat a dog I didn't like how it is in here."

"How do you know Lady Catherine?"

"You sure you want to know? You some dogooder church lady hoping for a coveted spot in heaven?"

I glanced back at John. Perhaps he could read my thoughts. He nodded.

"I'm Lady Catherine's daughter. I'm Hannah."

Maggie's lips quivered. She leaned forward.

"Her daughter?"

I knelt beside Maggie, my hand hovering over her shoulder, afraid to touch her. "Tell me," I whispered. "Please, Maggie."

"Her daughter," Maggie repeated. Her bottom lip quivered.

"Maggie. Maggie, please. You may be the only person who can help with the pieces I'm missing." Could she have been a witness to the accident? The farmer's child, perhaps of the couple who took in Susan?

"Guess I get to tell my story then. Don't matter if either of you believe me. Long as the story is told. I was barely more than a child myself," Maggie said. "I'd worked at Grimmore Manor since I was about nine. I worked my way up to being a chambermaid. Was a step up from the kitchen, nothing nice about being ordered about by everyone and told off and blamed for everything. Didn't plan on being a maid forever, but with both my parents in the ground, money and a roof was what I needed. Then I was foolish. A stupid girl at fifteen who fancied herself in love. He promised me the world. Name was Barty, the gardener's son. Told me we'd get married and have a little place of our own. I believed him. Believed those words."

"What happened?" I asked. John's hand gently came to rest on my shoulder.

"I found out I was with child. So scared I'd lose my position and be out on the street. Told Barty and he said he had a plan. Not to worry. Foolish me believed that. Never told me what it was, then a bit later he was gone. His parents wouldn't tell me a thing. Never saw the scoundrel again."

"Were his parents on the estate or in town?" John asked.

Maggie looked up. "They worked on the estate. His pa was the gardener and his ma worked in the house. Only child he was."

"There I was trying to let out the sides of my uniform, hide my belly as long as possible," she continued. "But then, Lady Catherine, she discovered my condition. Called me to her room one day. Thought that was the end of everything, but then she offered to help me."

"Help?"

Maggie laughed bitterly. "Help, she called it. She told me she would care for me, ensure the child was well provided for. But it was all a charade, a cruel scheme to fulfil her own desires."

"She had me make some padding, layers upon layers of it. Only I was to dress her from that moment on. I wasn't to sleep with the other maids—she kept me hidden away in a room beside hers," Maggie explained.

"Lord Sheppard was correct. She was never with child," John said.

Maggie looked past me and nodded.

"He suspected something weren't right. Both were old. I'd often hear them quarrelling about it from my room. He'd demand she see a doctor. She did get a doctor, just not the one he wanted her to see. He'd come and check on me. But the night the pains began, he was away in London. Lady Catherine went out herself and came back with a midwife."

"Peg," John said behind me.

"Who?" I asked.

"He's right. Her name was Peg. She got me through it, she did. Last bit of kindness I knew. Lady Catherine stood there watching the entire time. And when she was born, when my little girl was born…" Maggie's voice trembled, tears welled up in her eyes. "I never even got to hold her. She took her away. Peg got sent on her way with money for silence. I took my share too, no denying that."

The words were dawning on me. I knew I wasn't Lord Sheppard's daughter, but I wasn't Lady Catherine's either. I was nothing more than the illegitimate child of a maid and a gardener. Relief flooded my body at the thought.

"Is that when you were sent here?"

Maggie shook her head. "No, I was bundled off to another estate to work. Up in Northumberland. I worked hard, kept to myself. I don't know how long passed, but one night I went out to a dance, came back to the room and barely put my head down when men grabbed me and brought me here. Never knew why." Maggie looked at me. "Thought I'd be here ‘til I died."

"You know who I am?" I whispered.

She nodded. A smile came and went on her lips. "My baby girl, all grown. A fine-looking lady you be. You got opportunities I never had—I don't regret that. I didn't want to give you up, but I made choices."

I felt a hand on my shoulder. John knelt beside me. "Hannah. You surely have the power to help Maggie. You could secure her release from this place."

"Of course, I'm not leaving my mother here. Summon the matron."