Chapter 17

Simone stepped into the dining room and saw her father and Juliette speaking cordially to one another as they ate their breakfast.

She came to an abrupt halt since she had no desire to eat with Juliette. Perhaps they wouldn't notice her if she left now. With light steps, she slowly started to back out of the room.

Just as she thought she might have succeeded, Juliette looked over and said, "Simone, you must join us for breakfast."

Drats. She had not been able to escape without notice. "I do not wish to be a bother," she attempted.

"Nonsense," Juliette said. "This is your home, after all."

"I would rather take a tray in my room?—"

Her father cut her off. "Sit, Simone," he ordered. His tone brokered no argument.

Knowing she had little choice in the matter, Simone approached the table and waited as the footman pulled a chair out for her. She murmured her thanks as she sat down. Why had she thought coming down for breakfast was a good idea?

Juliette picked up a piece of toast from her plate and took a bite. Once she finished chewing, she wiped her hands together to brush away the crumbs.

Simone watched Juliette, an uneasy feeling coming over her. How could she dine with a French spy so easily? She was tired of playing by Juliette's rules. It was time that she took back the power. But it was proving to be much more difficult than she had first anticipated.

"Is something amiss?" Juliette asked.

Realizing she had been caught staring, Simone replied, "No, I was just woolgathering."

"A terrible habit for a young woman to engage in," her father remarked.

Simone reached for the cup of chocolate the moment the footman placed it onto the table. As she took a sip, she wondered how she was going to search Victor's bedchamber. He hardly left it, and when he did, he locked it, giving strict orders to the servants that no one was to enter the room. Why all the secrecy unless he had something to hide?

Her father's voice broke through her musings. "How do you intend to occupy your time today?" he asked her.

"Caleb is coming to call upon me so we can take a carriage ride through Hyde Park," Simone lied, not wishing to reveal they were going to travel to Bedlam.

He nodded in approval. "The Society page mentioned your engagement," he informed her.

"How wonderful," Juliette acknowledged. "Although, I do not think Mr. Bolingbroke likes me very much."

Her father shook his head. "That is preposterous. What possible reason could he give as to not like you?"

"I am just your mistress," Juliette pointed out.

"Regardless, soon Simone will be his responsibility," her father declared.

Simone stiffened. "Is that what I am to you- a responsibility?" she asked as she tried to keep the hurt out of her voice.

"What do you want me to say, Simone?" her father asked. "You have proven time and time again to be a disappointment to me."

His words had just left his lips when Juliette reached over and placed her hand on his sleeve. "That was not very nice," she said. "You shouldn't say such cruel things to your daughter."

Now Juliette was defending her? Could this conversation get any worse, she thought. One thing was for certain, she wished that she had never come downstairs for breakfast.

Her father had the decency to look ashamed. "My apologies. My words came out much harsher than I had intended."

"But you said them, none the less," Simone argued.

"Yes, but I could have said it differently," her father said.

Simone stared at her father in disbelief. She knew that people always had a way of revealing who they were. You just had to give them enough space and time to do so. Why did she think the best in her father? He just kept disappointing her, over and over, proving to her that he was not the man she thought he was. It was time to stop seeing the good in him and start seeing what he showed her.

Her father turned his attention towards Juliette, for which Simone was most grateful. She was done with this conversation. "How do you intend to spend your day today?"

Juliette smiled, one that she seemed to reserve only for her father. "I have loads to do today, including the final fitting for my ballgown," she said.

"Why doesn't the dressmaker just come to the townhouse?" her father asked.

"I have a few other errands that I must see to and it only made sense for me to go to the dressmaker's shop," Juliette replied.

"Perhaps Simone can go with you," her father suggested.

Simone went to object but Juliette spoke first. "I do not think that is a good idea. She would no doubt get bored with everything I must accomplish today."

Now Simone's curiosity was piqued. "What errands must you see to?" she asked.

"This and that," Juliette remarked dismissively.

Her father reached for Juliette's hand and kissed her knuckles. "I am needed at the House of Lords today, but I shall return home for dinner."

"Wonderful," Juliette said. "I shall have the cook prepare your favorites."

He shoved back his chair and rose. "Simone," he muttered before he walked out of the room.

Juliette's eyes trailed after her father as she remarked, "Your father does not seem pleased with you."

"He never is." And that was the truth. With every passing day, her father seemed to look at her with more and more contempt. How would he treat her when he discovered that she had claimed her inheritance?

Leaning back in her seat, Juliette shared, "I didn't have a close relationship with my father either. He was always disappointed that I was born a useless female."

"But he did have a son."

Juliette waved her hand in front of her. "Yes, he did have Victor, but he believed I would become an utter drain on his finances," she said. "The moment I was able to leave his household, I seized the opportunity to make it on my own."

"What of your mother?"

Looking unimpressed by her question, Juliette replied, "My mother was weak. She looked at my father like he was God's gift to her, but he was just a drunk. He would beat her relentlessly."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Simone said.

"He beat me, too, but it wasn't as much fun when I fought back," Juliette admitted. "Before I left, I told my father that if he ever hit my mother again, I would kill him." She paused. "It was his last mistake that he didn't believe me."

Fearing she misunderstood Juliette, Simone asked, "You killed your own father?"

Juliette shrugged. "I killed a monster, who happened to be my father," she said. "I don't regret what I did, and I freed my mother from the prison she was in."

Simone didn't think it was possible but she felt a twinge of sympathy for Juliette. She had protected her mother from a fate that was far worse than death. She questioned if she would have done the same.

With a glance at the footmen standing guard, Juliette ordered, "Leave us."

The footmen promptly stepped out of the dining room and closed the door behind them.

"Finally, we are alone," Juliette said. "I do not know how to deal with servants constantly being underfoot."

"Did you not grow up with servants?"

Juliette nodded. "We had servants, but you seem to have servants to tend to servants. I can't seem to find a moment alone in this household."

"Your brother doesn't seem to have that same issue since he spends plenty of time alone in his bedchamber," Simone remarked.

"Yes, he is quite busy."

"Doing what, exactly?" Simone pressed.

Juliette smiled, as if she were privy to a secret. "I cannot say, but you will find out soon enough."

Simone held her gaze and asked, "What is my father's involvement in all of this?"

Her smile grew smug, much too smug for Simone's liking. "Do you truly expect me to answer that question?" Juliette inquired. "I have a feeling that is why I have not been arrested yet. Your father is an influential man and it is not as if he could just disappear. Now could he?"

"If my father is involved, he will pay for his crimes…" Simone started.

Juliette laughed. "I can't quite tell if you are truly as naive as you appear," she said. "How is it that someone like you became a spy?"

"Someone like me?" Simone asked. She wasn't quite sure if she should be insulted or not. But since it came from Juliette, she doubted it was a compliment.

"You are sweet, but you are not clever enough to compete with me," Juliette stated. "You, or your handsome Mr. Bolingbroke."

Simone pursed her lips together. "Caleb is not mine."

"Isn't he, though?" Juliette asked. "You two appeared rather familiar with one another in the gardens yesterday."

"Looks can be deceiving."

"Yes, they can be," Juliette agreed. "Which is why I propose we come to a truce."

Simone's brow shot up. "A truce?" she asked. "Surely you can't be serious."

Reaching for her teacup, Juliette took a sip and placed it back onto the table. "I see you out in the gardens, practicing with your dagger. You are quite good," she said. "It is an unusual pastime for a woman of your position, no?"

"It is, but my mother taught me how."

Juliette gave her a thoughtful look. "I met your mother once," she informed her. "She was a lovely woman."

Simone did not want to talk about her mother, especially to Juliette. "You mentioned a truce," she said.

"I did," Juliette responded. "I have spent too much time in England. It is time that I return home."

"That is unlikely to happen."

Juliette looked amused. "No one paid me any heed until I went home to retrieve my brother and smuggled a ride on Lord Drycott's ship," she said.

"If what you are saying is true, why did you risk returning to England with your brother?" Simone asked. "Why not just stay in France?"

"Why, indeed?" Juliette asked. "I suppose it was because I couldn't leave well enough alone. I needed to finish my assignment. You understand that, do you not?"

Simone leaned forward in her seat. "If you are asking me to understand why you are working as a French spy, then no. I do not understand that."

Juliette wore an expression of discontent. "I thought we could be civil about this, but you are being entirely too stubborn."

"It is just a matter of time until you are in Newgate."

Shoving back her chair, Juliette said, "You seem to forget that I hold all the power. I know about your secret, Mr. Bolingbroke's secret and many others. Do you want them all to be rejected from the ton because of your mistake?"

"There are worse things," Simone stated.

"To me, perhaps, but your whole world revolves around high Society," Juliette said. "Furthermore, what happens if your father discovers your secret?"

"You haven't told him?"

Juliette looked the epitome of innocence as she rose from her seat. "A promise is a promise, is it not?" she asked. "I told you that I wouldn't tell him and I meant it. Spies have a code."

Simone wanted to believe Juliette, but, quite frankly, she knew she couldn't trust a word out of the French spy's mouth. Juliette would tell her father that she was a spy when it benefited her; she was sure of that.

Coming around the table, Juliette came to a stop near Simone. Her voice seemed to lack any emotion as she said, "If you interfere with me or my brother, I will kill your precious Mr. Bolingbroke."

"If anything happens to Caleb?—"

Juliette cut her off. "It is cute how much you care," she said. "But you made one crucial error."

Simone was sure she was going to regret asking, but she did so anyways. "Which was?"

In a low voice, Juliette said, "You fell in love."

Before she could respond, Juliette walked swiftly out of the dining room, leaving her all alone in the expansive room.

Love.

She was not in love with Caleb. She couldn't be. But the more she thought on it, the more she realized that Juliette was right. She loved Caleb. It was so easy for her to love him that it frightened her.

She contemplated what she should do. She was a spy. Love was a weakness. And Juliette was exploiting that weakness.

The long clock in the corner chimed. It was time for her to start getting ready for her carriage ride with Caleb. The worst part was that she was looking forward to it. Every moment she spent with him, she was starting to cherish.

Caleb sat across from Simone in the carriage and he watched as she fidgeted with her hands in her lap. She had hardly spoken a word to him since they had departed from her townhouse, not even to chide him when he told her how lovely she looked.

Perhaps she was just growing anxious as they were approaching Bedlam. With every rotation of the wheels, he hoped that this was not a fool's errand. He truly believed that Lady Hungerton was one of the patients at Bedlam. But what if he was wrong? He had no doubt that it would devastate Simone. He didn't want to do one thing that would cause Simone pain.

"It will be all right," he assured her.

A line appeared between Simone's brow. "A part of me hopes my mother is there, but another part hopes she isn't." She paused. "If she is there, my father is a monster and I didn't even know. What kind of spy would I be?"

"The kind that sees the best in people," he encouraged.

She let out a puff of air. "A spy is supposed to be objective. Yet I am fooled by the people that I am closest to."

"No mask can be worn forever," Caleb said. "Besides, there were already starting to be cracks in your father's mask."

"Is there any word on my inheritance?"

Caleb nodded. "Mr. Morrish has drawn up all the required paperwork and is just waiting for my word to have it delivered to your father's solicitor."

"Once that happens, all hell will break loose," Simone said. "I am not quite sure what my father will do. Do you think he would disown me?"

"Even if he does, we will be wed soon and you will have a home with me," Caleb remarked.

Simone grew thoughtful. "I haven't felt at home since my mother died."

Leaning forward in his seat, he revealed, "My mother is thrilled to be gaining a daughter. She barely can contain herself at the prospect."

"Will she be terribly disappointed when she learns that our marriage is in name only?" Simone asked.

Caleb worked hard to keep the emotion off his face. He wanted so much more out of this marriage, but he didn't want to scare Simone off. He would honor his word, but that didn't mean he wouldn't at least attempt to woo her.

"No," he responded. "She is just happy that I am getting married."

Simone looked unconvinced but thankfully she didn't press him. "My father is anxious to get me off his hands. Apparently, I am just a burden to him."

"He said that?"

"Not quite," she replied. "The word he used for me was ‘responsibility,' amongst other things."

Caleb didn't like that Lord Hungerton was saying such hurtful things to Simone. "He was wrong to say that of you."

Simone grew quiet, and he feared that he had said something that might have upset her. Finally, she spoke, "I had an interesting conversation with Juliette this morning."

"Did you discover anything new?"

"She wanted to have a truce with me."

Caleb thought that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. "A truce?" he asked. "Is she mad?"

Simone pressed her lips together before replying, "If we don't leave her be, she threatened to kill you."

"I would like to see her try," Caleb declared.

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

Simone sighed. "Juliette is a terrible person, but she isn't completely incompetent. She has managed to live in England for years, undetected. She was only discovered when she went back to retrieve her brother."

"You can't trust her," Caleb admonished.

"I don't," Simone said. "She even had the absurd notion that I…" Her words came to an abrupt stop.

Caleb gave her a curious look. "That you, what?" he prodded.

Simone looked hesitant as she replied, "Juliette is under the impression that I care for you, more so than just a friend. Which is ludicrous, is it not?"

Caleb felt a stab of disappointment at her words. He did care for her but it was evident that she didn't feel the same. Before he could reply, they approached the gate for Bedlam and they both seemed to retreat into their own thoughts.

The carriage came to a stop in front of the large, three-story building. Despite the palatial pretensions, Caleb saw the exterior was faded and starting to crumble in many areas.

As he exited the carriage, a man with a bald head and protruding belly exited the hospital and approached him.

"Mr. Bolingbroke," he greeted. "Your father mentioned you would be coming today. I am Mr. Stephen Radcliffe, one of the Bedlam Governors."

Caleb reached back and assisted Simone onto the graveled courtyard. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with us."

"Your father said the matter was most urgent, and I know he is not a man prone to exaggeration," Mr. Radcliffe said in a hushed voice.

"You are right," Caleb agreed as he moved Simone's hand to the crook of his arm. "Perhaps we could discuss this inside."

Mr. Radcliffe tipped his head. "That is a fine idea."

Caleb led Simone into Bedlam and it wasn't long before they arrived at Mr. Radcliffe's office. They stepped inside the small, square room and Mr. Radcliffe closed the door behind them.

Mr. Radcliffe came around his desk and gestured towards the two chairs. "Please have a seat," he encouraged.

Once Simone was situated, Caleb sat down next to her and said, "Allow me to introduce you to my fiancée, Miss Delacourt."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Delacourt," Mr. Radcliffe said. "I read about your upcoming nuptials in the Society page."

Simone smiled politely. "Thank you, Mr. Radcliffe."

Mr. Radcliffe turned his attention back to Caleb. "I must assume introducing me to your fiancée is not why you are here."

"You would be correct," Caleb replied. "The reason why we are here is of a delicate nature and I hope for your discretion."

"You have it, considering how your father helped raise funds to build the new hospital," Mr. Radcliffe said. "I owe him that much."

Caleb decided to say what needed to be said and be done with it. With any luck, Mr. Radcliffe would be reasonable about it. "We are here because we have reason to suspect that Lady Hungerton is one of your patients."

Mr. Radcliffe blinked. "Surely you can't be serious?" he asked, glancing between them.

Knowing how unbelievable it sounded, Caleb continued. "We believe that Lord Hungerton paid off Mr. Underwood to hide his wife away in Bedlam."

Jumping up from his seat, Mr. Radcliffe shouted, "That is an outlandish accusation. I have known Mr. Underwood for many years and he would never do something so dishonorable."

Caleb put his hand up. "It sounds unlikely but?—"

Mr. Radcliffe scoffed. "No, it is impossible," he declared, cutting him off. "I know every patient here and not one of them is Lady Hungerton. I am not saying that we don't have a few genteel ladies, but none of them are a baroness."

"Mr. Radcliffe, if you would just allow us to tour the facility—" Caleb attempted.

"Absolutely not!" Mr. Radcliffe exclaimed.

Caleb glanced at Simone, wondering why she hadn't said anything. It wasn't like her to remain silent.

Mr. Radcliffe gestured towards the door. "I think it is time that you both leave."

In a steady voice, Simone said, "I have come into a great deal of money and I am considering donating a thousand pounds to your building fund." She held Mr. Radcliffe's gaze. "At least I assume you are still looking for donors."

"We are," Mr. Radcliffe admitted.

"I would be happy to donate the money, assuming I can have a tour of your lovely facility," Simone said, holding the Governor's gaze.

Mr. Radcliffe returned to his seat and his eyes held a look of regret. "I know precisely why you want the tour, but I am afraid that you will leave disappointed. Your mother is not here. I can promise you that."

"Is there any harm giving us the tour then?" Simone asked.

With a defeated sigh, Mr. Radcliffe said, "I suppose not."

Simone awarded him a bright smile. "Thank you, Mr. Radcliffe. This tour will go a long way with easing my conscience."

Mr. Radcliffe rose. "I suppose we should get this over with," he muttered before he walked towards the door.

Simone rose and Caleb offered his arm to her. They followed Mr. Radcliffe out of his office and down a long corridor.

Upon reaching a door flanked by two guards, Mr. Radcliffe came to a stop and said, "This wing is where most of the women patients are housed."

"Most of them?" Caleb inquired.

Mr. Radcliffe nodded. "Yes, the other patients have been deemed unstable and a danger to themselves. They are chained to the wall for their own protection, and the workers'."

"I understand," Caleb said.

As Mr. Radcliffe went to open the door, he explained, "I'm afraid the rooms that the women were housed in before were deemed uninhabitable so we had to make do until the new hospital is built. I do hope you understand."

Simone entered the hall first but turned back around towards Mr. Radcliffe with disbelief on her features. "I daresay that it very much appears as if the patients are in prison."

Mr. Radcliffe looked apologetic. "It is the best we could do for them, considering the lack of funding we have available to us."

Turning her attention towards the patients, Simone waited for Caleb to join her before they slowly walked down the central aisle surrounded by the cells where the patients were confined. Some of the unkempt women turned their heads to glance at them, their sunken eyes and thin shoulders visible through tattered clothing.

Most of the patients gave them little heed, as if their presence was merely an imposition to them. The smell of unwashed bodies permeated the air, leaving Caleb to wonder how Simone managed to endure such a pungent odor.

They continued down the hall and Simone would occasionally step closer to the bars to examine a patient. Once they arrived at the end of the long hall, her eyes held disappointment. "I do not see my mother," she admitted, her voice resigned.

"There are still more patients," Caleb said in an attempt to encourage her.

Mr. Radcliffe spoke up from behind them. "I assure you that is a waste of your time. Those patients are not the type of people you want to trifle with. There is a reason they are not with the general population."

"Be that as it may, I would like to see them," Caleb said.

"Mr. Bolingbroke, you are wasting my time and?—"

Caleb spoke over him. "I will match Miss Delacourt's donation, assuming you will take us to the other patients."

In a hushed voice, Mr. Radcliffe said, "I think you are making a grave mistake. You are only going to disappoint your fiancée even more."

"She can handle it," Caleb admonished.

Mr. Radcliffe's eyes shifted towards Simone and they held compassion. "Are you sure, Miss?" he asked. "I only ask for the sake of your delicate constitution."

Simone nodded. "Mr. Bolingbroke is right. I can handle whatever, come what may."

Mr. Radcliffe's lips formed a thin line before he grumbled, "Follow me, then." He proceeded out the door and down another long corridor.

As they followed behind Mr. Radcliffe, Caleb asked, "How are you faring?"

"Those poor people," Simone said in a hushed voice. No other words were needed. He knew precisely what she was saying, and not saying. The patients were suffering and no one seemed to care about their plights.

Mr. Radcliffe approached a door and removed a key from his jacket pocket. "I will have to lock the door behind us for everyone's sake."

Once they stepped into the darkened hall, Mr. Radcliffe made good on his promise and locked the door, remaining by it. The only light came from the small, dirtied windows along one of the side walls.

Simone proceeded down the dimly lit corridor with an air of unyielding determination. Alongside her, men and women were confined in adjacent cells, their hands bound and shackled to the cold walls. The straw strewn on the aged, misshapen floor provided little comfort, and the rats scurried around the floor, as if the patients were the unwanted intruders.

The horrific stench that lingered in the air failed to deter Simone, who scrutinized each suffering soul with a somber countenance. Her expression remained stoic, yet Caleb could see the anguish in her eyes. How these people were able to survive such horrific conditions was beyond him. This was a place that people came to die, and he suspected they knew it, too.

As Simone came to the last cell, she stopped and cocked her head. A woman sat in the shadows of the cell, her back against the wall. Her long, dark hair covered her face as her eyes were downcast.

"Mother?" Simone asked.