they beat you here?’ he asked, suddenly catching sight of the bruises on her arms for a second time.
She laughed in disbelief. ‘Of course.’
Robert felt the rage building inside him, rage he thought he’d managed to control for so long. He didn’t know if this young woman was mad or the victim of a very heinous deception, but either way she didn’t deserve to be beaten. She shouldn’t be chained to the wall, frightened of every person who entered her dismal cell. She deserved more than that, every human did.
‘Trust me,’ he said quietly.
Louisa regarded him for almost a minute in silence, staring into his eyes, and Robert felt as though she’d studied his soul. Eventually she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
Robert rose to his feet, strode the couple of paces to the door and thumped hard on the wood with his fist.
He waited until he could hear footsteps approaching, then thumped again.
The female warden unlocked the door and stood aside for him to come out.
‘Get me Symes,’ he commanded. ‘And give me the keys to unlock this poor girl’s manacles.’
The warden just stared at him.
‘I said give me your keys,’ he growled in a voice that brooked no argument.
Wordlessly the warden handed over a key, unthreading it from the bunch.
‘Go get Symes,’ he repeated. ‘I’m taking Miss Turnhill away from here.’
‘Very Arthurian,’ Louisa murmured as he unlocked the manacle from around her wrist.
He looked at her, puzzled.
‘My knight in shining armour.’ He saw the smile on her face and humour in her eyes and wondered how anyone could keep from utter despair after spending such a long time in the asylum.
‘What’s going on?’ Symes asked as he blustered in. ‘Lock her back up immediately.’
‘I’m taking Miss Turnhill with me,’ Robert said, ‘and we’re never coming back.’ It was a bit of a dramatic statement, but the whole scene seemed a little farcical to him.
‘You can’t do that,’ Symes said.
‘I’m her legal guardian now, I can choose to do whatever I like. And I choose to take Miss Turnhill away from this dreadful place and into my care.’
With that Robert took Louisa’s hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm. She took a couple of steps forward and stumbled. Robert realised she wasn’t used to walking far and, adding to that the excitement of escape, he wasn’t surprised she was a little overcome. Wanting to make their exit as quickly as possible, he bent his head to Louisa’s ear and dropped his voice so only she could hear.
‘I’m going to carry you,’ he said.
‘You most certainly are not.’
Robert blinked twice in quick succession. Most young ladies wouldn’t give up the chance of being swept into a man’s arms whatever the circumstances.
‘I was dragged into this hellhole, but I will walk out on my own two feet.’
Louisa stumbled, but only once. She righted herself, held her head high and walked out of Lewisham Asylum for the last time. They could threaten to poke out her eyes and hang her by the neck, but nothing would make her enter that vile place ever again.
‘Where to now?’ she asked, eyeing her saviour with a grin on her face.
He looked down at her with concern. Louisa supposed she probably did look a little mad, dressed in the grey sack of the madhouse, squinting into the sun and grinning like a lunatic. She didn’t care. She was free.
‘My home, perhaps?’ Robert suggested.
She pulled a face. ‘But there’s so much to do. Over a year of things to catch up on. I was thinking a stroll in the park.’
She watched as he tried to hide the horror on his face. She grinned again and waited as it dawned on him that she was teasing.
‘Your home would be lovely,’ she said quietly.
She’d always found it hard to be serious, her natural temperament was carefree and joyous. Even when her parents had died she’d tried to see the positive side to life. In the years she’d dodged her guardian’s unwanted advances she’d almost forgotten how to smile. Then he’d dumped her in the asylum and she’d vowed she would be true to herself, no matter what hardships followed.
Gently Robert helped her up into his carriage. He followed her inside and banged on the roof, signalling for the driver to depart. Louisa watched as the facade of the asylum faded into the distance, then felt her body start to shake. She couldn’t believe she was actually out of that place. She was free. She didn’t know what life held for her now, but surely nothing could be worse than the eight long years with her guardian or the one in the madhouse.
She couldn’t stop the shaking, she felt overwhelmed. She felt the tears start to pour from her eyes and run down her cheeks.
‘It’s all right,’ Robert said soothingly. ‘You’re safe now.’
He moved from his position on the opposite side of the carriage to sit next to her. Gently he took her in his arms and held her. Louisa felt herself stiffen. She wasn’t used to human contact, at least not of the friendly kind. No one had hugged her since her parents had died. Slowly she allowed herself to relax into his arms, soothed by the soft sound of his voice.
‘You’re safe now,’ he repeated over and over again, and for a few moments Louisa allowed herself to believe it.
She wondered what was driving this man. She’d had to trust him in the asylum, she’d have trusted anyone who’d given her the chance to escape, but now she was free she could always try to make her own way. She watched as the carriage slowed slightly and wondered if she would hurt herself too much if she jumped. Being alone in London was a scary thought, but at least she wouldn’t be locked in anywhere. For all she knew this man might be taking her somewhere worse than the asylum.
It was possible, but the rational part of Louisa knew to dismiss the thought. She might not know his motivations, but Louisa’s instincts were that he was a good man. Maybe she would stick with him for a little while, just until she could make plans to be on her own.
Self-consciously Louisa wiped the last few tears from her cheeks and sat upright. As she wriggled free from Robert’s arms she felt strangely bereft. She’d been on her own so long that just that little bit of human contact had been world changing.
‘So what’s the plan?’ Louisa asked. ‘Sell me into slavery? Banish me to work in a travelling fair?’
He was too easy to poke fun at, that was the problem. Robert Fleetwood was a serious man, too serious for a man of his age. She wondered if he’d been
