Page 23 of Reforming Lord Ragsdale
He took it, wiped his eyes, and then stared at her.
“I am Lord Ragsdale’s new secretary,” she said. “I believe that you can help me. You see, I am reforming Lord Ragsdale.”
Chapter 8
The hour passed quickly.She took notes rapidly and trusted her memory for the rest of Breedlow’s information about how to manage Lord Ragsdale’s affairs. “I am certain he will ask you to write his letters for him,” Breedlow continued as the guard by the inner door blew a little brass whistle. “He’s not that difficult to please.” He paused and looked toward the guard. “I only wish he had not been so lazy. Perhaps then I would not have been tempted. . .” His voice trailed away as the women on the benches started to rise.
“How long before you are transported?” Emma asked, wishing there was something she could do for the man.
“Very soon, I fear,” he replied. He took a last dab at his eyes and then started to hand back Lord Ragsdale’s handkerchief. He hesitated. “May I keep this?”
Mystified, she nodded. “Why would you want to?”
Breedlow bowed his head, and she could tell that her question had humiliated him further. “I can sell it for food.” He raised his eyes to hers. “You can’t imagine how hungry I am.”
“Oh, I can,” she said softly as the guard blew the whistle again. “Keep it, by all means. I wish I had some money to give you.”
He shook his head and managed a ragged smile. “Actually,I have enjoyed your company. You are my first visitor. My sister lives too far away to visit.” Again he stopped and looked away as the tears came to his eyes. “And now I will never see her again, and it was all for twenty pounds.”
They were both silent. Emma leaned forward then and reached into her reticule. “Please, Mr. Breedlow, can you do me a favor?”
He stared at her blankly. “How could I possibly do you a favor?”
“I want to hand you a letter. Please take it to Australia. See if you can deliver it for me.” She kept her voice low as the guards began to herd the women together at the other end of the narrow room.
He shook his head. “You daren’t hand me anything. The guards will only tear it up and beat me later.”
“It was just a thought,” she said then and withdrew her hand from the reticule. “Mr. Breedlow, good luck.”
He started to reply, when one of the women near the door screamed and fainted. As the other women clustered around, jabbering and gesturing, the guards hurried to that end of the room.
“Quickly now.” It was Breedlow, holding his hand out to her. She grabbed the letter again and thrust it at him, grateful for the unexpected diversion. It disappeared as soon as she handed it over.
Order returned quickly, and a guard gestured her toward the door and thrust his key in the lock that chained Breedlow to the wall.
“Good luck, Mr. Breedlow,” she called again as he was led away. “Please don’t lose that letter,” she said softly as the other women, more of them crying now, hurried from the room. She watched the former secretary until the door clanged behind him and then sighed and stepped into the hall again.
Lord Ragsdale waited for her. He snapped open his pocket watch. “I trust you learned all you need to know, andI hope you don’t have anyone else to visit at Newgate. As it is, I am certain I will never get the stench of this place out of my coat.”
“No, my lord, I have no one else to visit,” she replied as he started back down the hall. “But I do want you to stop in the governor’s office for a moment.”
“Not if my life depended on it,” he assured her and hurried faster.
“I want you to give the governor some money to keep Mr. Breedlow from starving,” she said and then held her breath and waited for the storm to break.
She was not disappointed. He stopped, took her by the arm, and gave her a shake. “Emma, he robbed me!” Lord Ragsdale shouted.
Why am I doing this?she thought as she nerved herself to look into his eye and stand her ground, even though he was taller than she by a foot at least, and seemed enormously large in that many-caped coat he wore.
“And Mr. Breedlow is going to a lifetime in a penal colony for stealing a paltry twenty pounds from you,” she continued, surprised at her own temerity.I am not afraid of you, she thought, and to her amazement, she meant it.
“So he is,” Lord Ragsdale said, calm again. He let go of her arm and hurried her along the endless passage, past cells crammed with wretched people, prisoners for whom all time was suspended into a continuous, dismal present that she understood very well.
Emma did not really expect Lord Ragsdale to stop at the governor’s office again, but he did. The governor ushered them into the office that still smelled of elderly mutton.
“This is for David Breedlow’s upkeep,” the marquess said as he slapped a handful of coins down on the desk and then scowled at Emma.
“Thank you, my lord,” she replied and edged closer to the row of ledgers as the governor searched around on his messy desk for a receipt book. In another moment she was lookingthrough the newest ledger, running her finger down the row of names of prisoners incarcerated in the last five years. There were so many, and the governor’s scribe had such poor handwriting.This will take me an hour at least, and I do not have an hour, she thought as the governor scratched out a receipt and handed it to her employer.
