Chapter Twenty-Five

As soon as the door swung shut behind Pierce and his captors, Nora sank to her knees. She clutched her chest, lest her heart pound its way out. The letters Pierce had risked so much to find were still tucked into her trousers. Clearly, he wanted her to take them and run. Those letters would free Albemarle from his blackmailers and protect the Prince Regent from having that infernal Trust Powder used on him. And if Benedick was free, she could be free, too.

But her freedom was worthless without Pierce.

She couldn’t leave him to the chair. She wouldn’t.

Since she and Vesta had visited the subterranean parts of Bedlam yesterday, the route to that underworld was still fresh in her mind. She took the stairs on tiptoe lest Dodsworth or Dr. Falco hear her above them. Once she reached the basement, she waited for their footfalls to die away before stealing after them.

The water chamber door closed behind them like a coffin lid.

She hurried to the door, put a hand to the knob, then drew back. How could she face down both Dodsworth and Dr. Falco at once? She had only one card to play. She had to make it count.

Her thoughts bounced around like rubber balls. She was never quick enough to catch one. Then as she reached for the knob again, it began to turn on its own. She quickly hid behind the door as it opened.

Dodsworth came out and plodded down the hall.

“Hey Dods, how come you’re not with the doc in the water room?” one of the inmates yelled through the small grate in his door. “They always have two watchers. Always.”

“Dr. Falco sent me away. Think he means to drown this one and don’t want no witnesses. Even did the strappin’ down his own self. All right by me,” the orderly said as he strode on down the hall. “If there’s trouble over it, I won’t be the one who’ll swing for killing the bastard.”

Nora didn’t wait for more. She pulled open the door to the chamber she’d fled from yesterday, squared her shoulders, and went in.

Pierce was already in the chair. Dr. Falco hadn’t bothered to have him stripped in his hurry to administer the “treatment.” Water poured over him in torrents, obscuring his form beneath its pounding.

“What do you think you’re doing here, boy?” Dr. Falco demanded from his position beside the lever that worked the mechanism.

“Let him out,” Nora said. “Now.”

Garbled noises came from the chair. Pierce had heard her and was probably trying to tell her to leave him.

Oh, don’t try to talk, love. It will only mean more water pouring into you.

She’d intended to barter with Falco for Pierce, to offer to return the letters in exchange for his freedom. She’d betray Benedick. She’d let the royal take his chances with the Trust Powder. Pierce was all that mattered. She had to stop his torture. She dashed forward into the falling water with him.

It pummeled her head and shoulders, but she managed to tuck her chin and breathe through her mouth. Her fingers found the strap binding one of his arms, and she worked furiously at the buckles. Then a hand grabbed the back of her collar and yanked her out of the indoor waterfall.

“I will not tolerate this interruption of—wait a moment. You’re not Clarence. You’re not even a boy.” Falco eyed her like a robin might a worm. “You’re Lady Nora Claremont. Benedick’s bitch.”

She opened her mouth to answer, but his hand closed over her throat. Clawing at him, she fought to free herself, but Falco was too strong. Pinpricks of stars burst behind her eyes. Her vision tunneled.

Nora sank to her knees. She almost winked out entirely, but then Falco released her, and his feet left the flagstones as if he were capable of levitation. He screamed and then went crashing to the floor. As oxygen streamed into her, her vision came into sharp focus. She must have been successful at freeing one of Pierce’s hands because he’d unfastened the rest of his bonds. He was loose now and bearing a frown worthy of an avenging angel.

The doctor rolled and crabbed backward trying to get away, but Pierce yanked him to his feet. Falco took a wild swing at him. Pierce dodged the blow and answered it with one of his own. When Pierce’s jab connected with the doctor’s jaw, he collapsed in a heap.

Then Pierce hurried to Nora and lifted her to her feet. “We have to get you out of here,” he said, his voice hoarse from the water.

“Only if you come with me.”

“Say the word and I’ll never leave your side again.”

The door creaked open and Pierce positioned himself in front of her, fists raised. Then his shoulders relaxed, and he dropped his arms.

“Come in, Stanstead. I can hear you thinking out there,” he said. “Besides, the hard part is done.”

Lord Stanstead peered around the door and then entered with Mr. LeGrand dogging his steps. He cast an approving look at the fallen Dr. Falco. “The letters, do you have them?”

Pierce nodded. “Lady Nora does.”

“Well done, both of you.”

“How did you know where we were?” Pierce asked.

“Miss Anthony is outside the gate,” Stanstead explained. “She couldn’t Find you before, and it fretted her terribly. Finally, she decided the doctors had changed your name and obscured your appearance somehow.”

“I was called Mr. Mycroft and made to wear a hood until today.”

“Ah, that explains it. Good thing the hood is gone. Even without the correct name, Miss Anthony was able to Find you based on recognizing your ugly face. She confirmed your location just now, and here we are to help. LeGrand, what are you doing?”

Nora had no idea what to make of that cryptic conversation, but she didn’t have time to ask for explanations.

The wiry Frenchman had Dr. Falco draped over his shoulder and was bearing him to the chair in the center of the room. “I have heard of such devices as this. We shall see if the good doctor finds it as beneficial for himself as he seems to think it is for his patients.”

LeGrand began strapping Falco into the chair.

“Right. Come now, Westfall,” Stanstead said. “We’re here to break you and Lady Nora out of here.”

“How will you do that?” she asked.

“Why, we’ll walk right out the front door, of course,” Stanstead said with a grin. “I’ll be Sending to cover our escape every step of the way.”

“I need to do something first.” Nora didn’t think much of Lord Stanstead’s plan, and had no idea what he meant by “sending,” but she didn’t have a better suggestion to make at the moment. “There is a patient on the first floor named Mrs. Mounsey. She’s no more insane than Lord Westfall is, but she’s stubborn enough to die here if we don’t bring her with us.”

“I’ll get her,” Pierce said. “Stanstead, see Lady Honora to safety.”

“Consider it done,” Lord Stanstead said with a bow to Nora. “My lady.”

“Pierce, I don’t think we should split up—”

He pulled her to him for a quick kiss. “Just keep thinking that. I’ll join you as soon as I can with Mrs. Mounsey in tow, and then we’ll never be parted again. Agreed?”

She nodded, not trusting her voice. She let Lord Stanstead lead her away.

…

As Nora left with Lord Stanstead, LeGrand started the water falling without touching the lever. Dr. Falco roused and began making a pathetic bleating sound, amid intermittent sputtering and coughing.

“Don’t kill him,” Pierce said, feeling the doctor’s terror as if it were his own before he raised his mental shield against Falco’s thoughts.

“He would have killed you,” LeGrand said.

“Dr. Falco feels dead inside most of the time already. He hates himself,” Pierce said. “It makes him hate other people, too. Have a little mercy, LeGrand.”

“Only a little,” LeGrand said. “I’ll leave him here long enough to make sure he doesn’t use this thing on anyone else ever again.”

When Pierce left the chamber, the water was still falling.

Still dripping from his stint in the water chair, he squelched along the corridor and up the stairs to the first floor. “Mrs. Mounsey,” he called as loudly as he dared.

There was no answer.

He peered into a number of rooms, but no one responded with a sensible answer when he asked where Mrs. Mounsey might be.

A woman with white tufts of hair ambled toward him with a beatific smile. She babbled in sweet tones and even managed to singsong “I love you” intelligibly once or twice.

If the only thing her mental disease left her with was “I love you,” Pierce decided she must have been a wonderful person at one time. But as she neared him, her hand dipped into her pocket, and something metallic flashed.

“Violet!” came a voice from behind him. “You put that shank back in your pocket now, or I’ll tell Dodsworth on you.”

Violet’s shoulders hunched, and her smile turned into a gargoyle’s frown. The old woman scuttled back the way she came.

Pierce lowered his mental shield and realized the person who’d intervened was Mrs. Mounsey. He turned to face her. “Lady Honora Claremont has sent me to find you and take you away from here.”

“Lady Honora?” The woman chuckled. “You mean to say that skinny little Clarence is not only a woman, but a lady to boot? Lud, that do beat all. Well, don’t be standing there like a ninny. If you’re here to save me, get to saving.”

Pierce wondered if the woman would have said anything differently if she’d known he was a viscount. He doubted it.

“This way,” he said, indicating that she should precede him down the hall to the stairwell. They moved smoothly through the ranks of wandering patients until they reached the ground floor. Then Pierce decided this was no time to be gentlemanly. It would be better if he led the way, in case they encountered trouble.

He kept his shield up, knowing he’d be inundated with too many minds chattering at once to give him useful information. As he rounded the last corner before the vestibule at the front door, he nearly ran into Dodsworth.

Before he could strike a blow, the big orderly pulled out his wooden club and landed a solid clout to Westfall’s temple. He staggered and collapsed to the floor. His last coherent thought was that the front door must be open, because he could see only light.