He laughed, a dry sound. ‘Christabel, Christabel, such accusations. I am merely ensuring I enjoy the pleasure of your company as you seemed determined to thwart me. And really, you intrigue me more than a little. All this passion and openness on stage and yet you shrink from my letters? Why is that? I wondered. In all my observations over the last months I see no constant male beau, and so, I began to wonder, does your fancy lie in a different direction? Or perhaps you simply enjoy pleasure from wherever it comes? Certainly I, myself, consider nothing unnatural. You could say I am the most liberal of men in that regard.’
She stared at him, only half-understanding what he was implying. ‘You’ve been watching me? Outside the theatre, I mean?’ The creeping feeling he induced spread over her scalp as if the hairs on her head were rising.
He sat, half-smiling, watching her.
The rest of the journey was conducted in silence and lasted no more than ten minutes or so. When the horses’ trot slowed down and then stopped, Cat prepared herself for flight, but no one in the carriage moved. And then the wheels were rolling again but only for a moment or two before the carriage turned at an angle and then stopped once more, but this time for good.
The man who called himself Henry got out, and she heard him say to someone, ‘Lock those gates,’ before adding, directly to her, ‘May I help you, my dear?’ as he held out his hand.
Ignoring him, Cat climbed out of the carriage to find she was in the walled yard of what looked to be a fairly substantial house, and another man was busy locking two huge wooden gates set in the eight-foot-high wall. She opened her mouth, but the scream never had voice because the man who had grabbed her had followed her from the carriage and now lifted her as before, his hand over her mouth as he carried her straight through an open doorway into the house. She kicked and struggled for a moment before becoming still, realising the futility of wasting her strength.
Cat saw she was in a large kitchen but she was carried through this into a passage. Halfway along the passage the man called Henry had unlocked another door, and as her captor took her down the steep stone steps she realised they were descending into the cellar. She fought again, nearly sending them both headlong, and as the man holding her uttered a string of oaths, Henry, now at the bottom of the stairs, laughed. ‘I think we’ll have to give her something. See to it, would you?’
‘I know what I’d like to give her.’
‘All good things come to those that wait, Seamus.’
Henry stood aside at the bottom of the steps. An enclosed room had been constructed, the door of which was open, and now Cat was pushed into it with enough force to send her to her knees. She crawled forwards and then scrambled to her feet, turning to see Henry watching her from the doorway. ‘Scream all you like,’ he said mildly. ‘This room was made to certain requirements.’ And then he shut the door and she heard the bolts slid into place.
The gas-lights burning in several holders mounted on brackets on the walls of the room told Cat she had been expected. It was the colour that hit her senses first. A deep scarlet red; walls, carpet – covering all of the floor; even the ceiling was painted in the same brazen shade. There were no windows, no natural light, but as Cat stared about her, her face white and terrified, the implements the room contained froze her blood. Whips, handcuffs and other items were hanging on the wall close to the huge bed, and it was then she began to whimper like a child.
When the man Seamus returned he had his companion with him who was holding a cup. Cat had heard the bolts being slid, and had braced herself to fly at whoever entered the room, but Seamus had clearly anticipated such a reaction. He subdued her with little effort, and the other man held her nose, brought her head back at a painful angle and forced her to swallow the contents of the cup. It tasted bitter, and when she had ingested it all Seamus hauled her to the bed and flung her on it. ‘I’ll wager you won’t forget this day in a hurry,’ he said thickly, surveying her sprawled limbs hungrily. ‘The things he does . . .’ He grinned. ‘Still, you’ll find out soon enough.’
When they left the room, locking the door once more, Cat had a feeling come over her she’d never experienced before. Her limbs were heavy and her mind wasn’t her own, but the panic and agitation had subsided somewhat and she wanted nothing more than to sleep. Knowing she couldn’t give in to the deadening potion, she tried to fight it, but it was worse with each minute that ticked by, and by the time the door opened again she was barely able to stand.