began pacing again.
She grabbed one of the wine bottles and sat next to Rose on the barrel that lay on its side. ‘I have an idea…’
A few minutes later the sound of crashing glass reached the ears of the man sitting outside the locked door, and screams of ‘Oh, help! Help! Stop her. You must stop her!’
When the locked door opened, Rose was huddled in the corner surrounded by broken glass and spilled wine. She scraped at her wrist with a jagged piece and blood covered her arms.
‘You must stop her!’ Morgana begged the man. ‘Hurry.’
He rushed over to the beautiful girl, squatting down to both reach her and try to pull her up. Morgana followed him. Rose struggled and moaned that she would rather be dead. Such a lovely creature in so much distress would be difficult for any man to resist.
He was no different. While he was distracted by Rose, Morgana came up behind him and hit him hard on the head with one of the bottles of wine.
He fumbled, but did not fall. Instead, he came at her. She swung the bottle as hard as she could and hit him in the stomach, as Sloane had done to the man in the park so long ago. This man doubled over and staggered backwards.
‘I have the key,’ shouted Rose, holding it up in the air.
Morgana grabbed her and pulled her towards the door. She slammed the door shut and leaned on it while Rose turned the key in the lock.
A roar of outrage came from the inside of their cellar prison. Their captor banged loudly on the door, but would not be heard any better than they had been.
‘Are you all right, Morgana?’ Rose asked. She caught Morgana’s hand and looked at the cut Morgana had made to smear blood on Rose’s arms.
Morgana’s hand throbbed, but she said, ‘It is nothing. We must hurry.’
They made their way down the cellar corridor until they came to a staircase. Creeping up each step as softly as they could, they heard the sounds of voices above them.
‘Let us try the other way.’
Morgana led Rose past the wine cellar door where their captor still pounded and swore at the top of his lungs. At the other end they discovered the wooden door leading to the outside. It had a heavy metal bolt. Morgana’s cut hand shot with pain as she forced the bolt sideways and pushed on the door.
They were met by a crisp breeze and freedom. It was night, but the new gas lamps on nearby St James’s Street gave a faint illumination. Rose turned to her.
‘Go,’ Morgana said. ‘Return home. Find Sloane. Tell him to come.’
‘What about you?’ Rose asked.
‘I must go after Lucy and Katy. Please, Rose. Hurry. Bring Sloane.’
Rose gave her a quick hug and, after a look to see if anyone was watching, slipped out of the door into the night.
Morgana hurried back through the cellar to the stairway they’d found before. She heard voices, but she crept up the stairs and into a dark room. A sliver of light shone from under its door. Morgana groped around the room, making her way to the door. She felt something soft on a shelf against the wall.
Gloves.
She picked one up and put it on the hand she had cut with the piece of glass. It helped relieve the sting and the soft kid kept her hand supple. Shrugging, Morgana put on the glove’s mate.
Morgana inched her way to the door. She hoped to find a way to the upper floors where she supposed Lucy and Katy were kept. She opened the door a crack and peered through it. It led to a hallway at the end of which was the stairway to the upper floors. To the left was another room separated by a curtain. Morgana took a deep breath and started to cross towards the stairs.
She heard Mrs Rice’s voice coming from behind the curtain.
‘I do not care how you do it. Dispose of her. She is trouble. Have her put on a ship or something—that would serve her right—or toss her in the Thames. It is of no consequence to me as long as I am rid of her.’
Chapter Eighteen
Morgana stifled a gasp. Mrs Rice was speaking of her! Morgana had fought her captivity, and Mrs Rice had not been pleased. Morgana shuddered. The woman wanted her killed.
Even if it came to her death, she could not leave Lucy and Katy. She would see them safe or die trying.
The voices faded and Morgana rushed to the stairway, taking the stairs as quickly as she could. When she reached the top she again heard Mrs Rice’s voice, but sounding suddenly very congenial. Morgana carefully peeked around the corner. She could just catch a glimpse of Mrs Rice talking to a well-dressed gentleman.
Mr Cripps!
Her emotions flashed from elation to anxiety. What was her butler doing in such a place?
‘I should like a young lady,’ he said, sounding exactly as he did when announcing dinner. ‘Fair or red-haired would be my preference and I also like them young.’ He pulled a book from his pocket and tapped on its cover with his finger. ‘It says in this book that you provide clean, pretty girls.’
The Whoremonger’s Guide. Morgana bit her lip. And all along she had worried about his disapproval.
She shook her head. It defied logic that he would visit such a place like this the day his employer and guests were kidnapped. And Cripps was too old a man to be a rescuer. He would get himself killed.
Mrs Rice gave him a sideways glance. ‘I am certain we can accommodate you, sir. Show me some coin.’
Morgana heard the clink of coins. Lots of them.
‘I’ve not seen you here before.’ Mrs Rice spoke conversationally.
Morgana held her breath. Did Mrs Rice suspect he was not a genuine customer?
‘Indeed. This is my first time.’ He pointed to the book. ‘But it says here—’
‘Yes, yes,’ Mrs Rice broke in. ‘We shall accommodate you very well.’
Morgana dared to peek out again, but ducked back quickly when Mrs Rice turned to escort Cripps up the stairs. Wildly looking for a place to hide, all she saw were closed doors. She didn’t dare enter them. Mrs Rice and Cripps came closer. Morgana ducked into a dark corner and hoped the woman would not look too carefully into the shadows.
Mrs Rice led Cripps to one of the doors at the other end of the hall. ‘This one is a very lively girl. If she gives you trouble you tell me. I’ll teach her to behave.’
‘I enjoy a spirited young lady.’
Cripps said this very convincingly. He followed Mrs Rice into the room.
A moment later Mrs Rice came out again, saying, ‘I
