Part 26 (1/2)

he could damage the case if Lynne could prove hara.s.sment, but something was driving him to confront the man himself, and without knowing exactly why, he knew he must carry on.

”Is it routine to starve the prisoners?” Smokey asked her cellmate in a small voice as the second morning of her captivity dawned ”They say it keeps us weak and easy to 'andle,” the other woman told her. Smokey's heart sank.

They had done very little speaking since Smokey had arrived, mainly because the other woman seemed to sleep a great deal of the time.

Even though Smokey was still in a state of shock, she was aware enough to believe that the woman across from her was dying right before her very eyes. There was water every day from a bucket in the corner, but neither she nor Smokey had been given anything to eat since Smokey arrived. Smokey was hungry; the other woman was starving.

”Every other day,” the other woman went on in a whisper, as though talking took more energy than she could spare.

”They brings bread every other day.”

Suddenly the other woman's words became clear. As Smokey had been pushed into the cell, she said it was her turn.

Smokey understood now that her cellmate had gone extra days without food since they were not yet ready to feed the newest resident of Klink Prison.

What kind of place is this, Smokey asked herself not for the first time, that they starve people to death? Smokey could think of no crime so heinous as to deserve this.

The morning stretched on. Just when she thought she would go mad for want of food, a light appeared from somewhere down the cavern. It hurt her eyes as it neared, but she forced herself to look anyway, hope pounding in her breast.

219.

/ Two men appeared, one carrying a bucket and cups, the other a basket of loaves. Keys jingled, and the cell door was opened Two loaves of bread were thrown in, and cups of some type of gruel were scooped up and set just inside the door before it was slammed shut again.

Smokey scrambled for the bread as fast as she could move, cramming it into her mouth in a frenzy, but the other woman stayed her movement.

”Easy, go easy, child, or lt*ll make ya sick.”

Smokey stopped in midchew and forced herself to calm down. She reached for the other loaf and set it beside the other woman's pallet.

The woman's laugh was low and had a rusty sound to it.

”Ya must be something special when yer not in 'ere. Anyone else in this 'ole would 'ave eaten 'em both.”

Smokey moved to the cups then and ignoring her own, took one to the other pallet. She held it while the old woman took a sip and left it within reach next to the bread Her hand shook so violently as she drank from her own cup that she nearly spilled the contents. The gruel was thin and gritty, but Smokey didn't know when anything had tasted so wonderful. After she'd taken a few sips, she looked over to see that the other woman had at least picked up her cup.

”What's your name?” Smokey asked her.

”Aggie.”

”Why are you in here?” Smokey asked around a mouthful of bread Again the older prisoner laughed.

”Now I can really tell that yer new to this. There's two things ya don't ask down 'ere--the first is why yer 'ere, and the second is if yer deserve to be.”

”Oh” was all Smokey could think to say as she tried to eat slowly.

”You're an American?” Aggie asked, although it was more a statement than a question.

”Yes” was all Smokey said.

They fell silent after this small exchange, both now working on the food Smokey was nearly done with her bread when 220.

*D.

she thought she should save some for later. She didn't want to 1 think about the next two days, but forcing herself to do so, she reached to put the small crust into the pocket of her tunic ”Don't do it,” Aggie said, making Smokey aware of the fact that she'd been watching her. ”Eats it all, or the rats'll come lookin' for it.”

Smokey's breath left her in a rush, and she couldn't stop the shudder that ran over her frame as her eyes searched the dark corners of the cell and cavern. She took the bread back out and, after eating it, finished her gruel as well.

The older prisoner went back to sleep as soon as she was done, but Smokey only sat on her pallet, a new shudder running over her frame every time she thought of Aggie's words.

ever seen. The landscape was perfect, ana ooin manual Run* Dallas thought they could have used their imaginations and been in any number of small villages in Italy.

The front door was opened without hesitation, and both men were greatly encouraged to at least gain entrance to the grand home. Only seconds pa.s.sed, however, before their hopes were dashed.

”Lord Lynne is not here at the moment,” a stuffy butler informed them, looking down the length of his long, well-shaped nose.

”Can you tell us where he might be?” Dallas questioned politely, just barely holding his temper at being treated like a commoner.

”I'm sorry,” the man began, not sounding sorry at all.

Before he could go on, a pet.i.te but lovely woman appeared on the stairs behind Brandon and Dallas. They turned when she spoke in perfect Italian to the servant.

Brandon, who was fluent in French and German, caught a smattering of her words, but missed whether she was pleased or angry over their presence. She stared at them a momenf before moving down to the floor, across the entryway, and 222.

into an adjoining room. The butler motioned to the men to join her.

Once inside, the room proved to be a somewhat neglected library. Brandon held every one of the myriad questions running through his mind. He a.s.sumed the woman would need an interpreter before they could communicate, but only a moment pa.s.sed before she put that wrong a.s.sumption to rest.

”I wish to know your names, gentlemen,” she spoke in English, her accent very subtle.

The men supplied her with the information before she took a seat and asked them to join her. They did so cautiously, thinking this situation felt a little more bizarre with every pa.s.sing moment.

”I am Lady Constanza Lynne. Mario tells me you were inquiring about my husband”

Brandon's face showed his shock, and Lady Lynne smiled with a bitter twist to her mouth.

”I can see, Lord Hawkesbury, that you have listened to the rumors around London--that I am a bedridden termagant. As you see for yourself, I am not bedridden, and as for the charge of shrew, let us just say that at times I have cause.”

”Please excuse my behavior, Lady Lynne/' he apologized immediately. ”We are looking for your husband Can you help us find him?”

”Why do you wish to see him?”

Brandon answered without hesitation. ”He was arrested just days ago for piracy and has since then been freed An American woman, a friend of mine, has now been arrested for the same charge. I wish to question your husband myself as to whether or not he had a hand in the matter.”

”This woman--she is accused unjustly?”

”Yes, she is.”

The regret they saw in her eyes was very real.

”I wish you would tell me everything.”