Page 73 of Sinful Persuasion of a Lady in the Making
Chapter Twenty-Five
By the time Sebastian picked Jenny up that afternoon, she had had plenty of time to stew. They had told Alison and Luke that they were visiting a new tearoom on the outskirts of town, but instead they were going to the prison. It seemed so far-fetched, so ridiculous, but she knew it was the right thing to do.
“How are you feeling?” Sebastian asked once they were safely in the carriage and away from the prying ears of the household. Fanny was chaperoning, as usual, but she sat up front with the coachman to give them time to talk.
“My stomach is knotted with nerves,” she said. “But my mind is entirely focused and resolute.”
“That’s my girl,” Sebastian said with a smile. “You have a strength of character so rarely seen in gentlemen these days, let alone those of the fairer sex.”
“I cannot let this beat me, Sebastian,” she said plainly. “And I must find out who sent the letter… before they act upon any of their threats.”
The prison was a sinister place. Jenny had passed it often enough, but she had never been inside the intimidating gray stone building and the idea of doing so now set her heart to racing. They entered, and were greeted by a tall and broad guard, gruff with stubble and a rotund belly. He both looked and smelled like he hadn’t washed for a month, and yet he blended into his surroundings so seamlessly.
“Names,” he demanded, not looking up from his ledger.
Jenny looked quickly to Sebastian, wide eyed with concern, and Sebastian nodded his understanding.
“Lord and Lady Jeremy Ward,” he said, offering false names to protect their identities.
Jenny’s heart flipped at the idea of him calling herLadyanything, as though she was someone she was not. As though they were already married. From the gentle smirk on Sebastian’s face, she suspected he felt the same thrill as she did.
“And you’re here to see?” He still didn’t look up.
“Tina Reynolds,” Jenny said.
The guard said nothing, merely scratched their names down on the rough parchment and then said, “Follow me.”
The corridors were narrow at first, but they quickly opened up into wide spaces, divided by thick iron bars. Unwashed women littered the place, some lounging across benches, some leaning against the bars, some reaching out between them. There was one with iron rings around her wrists, and a chain leading to a bolt on the wall. It was overcrowded and unpleasant, overwhelmingly noisy, and the majority of prisoners slept on dirty straw that had long-ago been strewn across the stone floor.
“Heavens,” Jenny muttered. “The smell—”
“Small breaths,” Sebastian said, throwing her a reassuring glance. She was glad he was with her. She could have—would have—done it on her own, but she was glad he was there all the same.
“Well, well. We’ve got ourselves an ‘andsome one ‘ere, ladies.”
Jenny jumped at the sound of a woman’s voice, louder than the general melee. Her hair had been shaved off in chunks, leaving her uneven and pock-marked scalp on show. When she grinned, what few teeth were not blackened were entirely missing, and she laughed through her nose, looking Sebastian up and down and leering.
“Don’t engage ‘em,” the guard said over his shoulder. “Ain’t worth the ‘assle. And believe me, they’re worse than rats.”
“At least rats get a decent meal once in a blue moon,” another woman shouted, although Jenny couldn’t see her, hidden as she was by the women crowding at the bars to get a better look of their visitors.
“What you ‘ere for, anyhow?” a third screeched.
“Shut it!” the guard roared and, quite miraculously, they did. The room went eerily quiet, and they walked through the rest of the prison being carefully watched but not spoken to.
Jenny felt a wave of pity overcome her. These poor women, no matter what they had done, were being treated as less than animals. She shuddered violently, unable to control it.
“Are you all right?” Sebastian whispered.
She nodded mutely as they continued, but she couldn’t stop herself from imagining what it would be like to live in conditions like this. She had no doubt that, for some of these women, their only crime would have been to offend some harsh lord or other. It was far too easy for women of low birth to end up there.
It seemed they had walked the whole length of the prison before they stopped in front of a particular cell. Inside, a woman so thin she looked as though she might snap, lay curled in a ball on a strip of stained mattress that had been thrown onto the floor.
A luxury in such a place, Jenny thought grimly.
The guard took out his baton and ran it along the bars, the racket ringing out throughout the building, and echoing high in the rafters. The woman didn’t move, and Jenny thought for a terrible moment that she was dead. She weighed little enough.
“Reynolds,” he snapped. “You’ve got visitors. Get up!”
