Page 10 of Lady Gambit
“Rise and shine,” Peters barked. “You’ve a visitor, Nora.”
The woman ignored him.
Dorian feared she was dead—then she released a weary breath.
Peters gritted his teeth. He hit the metal ring against the bars, his temper barely caged inside his bulky frame. “Wake up, you old witch, before?—”
“Leave us.” Dorian placed a firm hand on the man’s arm. “I will return to the office once I’m satisfied she’s incapable of answering my questions.”
“But she’ll have your?—”
“I’m not in the habit of repeating myself.” Dorian met the gaoler’s gaze, hoping he knew not to anger the spawn of the devil. “Move, or I’ll shove those keys so far down your throat you’ll be spitting metal filings for weeks.”
He did not need to tell Peters twice. The man grumbled and stomped away, gripping his keys as if primed for an attack.
Dorian moved closer to the bars, hoping to coax Nora from her bed, but she was at the door in seconds, her haggard face pressed to the iron rails, her beady eyes fixed on him.
“If I had a guinea, I’d give it to you, sir.” Nora smiled, revealing a mouth of rotten teeth. “About time someone put thatbeggar in his place. He’s a mean devil. One day, he’ll come a cropper.”
Though Dorian agreed with her assessment, he wasn’t about to criticise Peters. The patients had probably assaulted the gaoler on countless occasions. “If you’d answered him, you might have avoided a verbal altercation.”
Nora laughed, the sound bitter. “Riling him is my only pleasure.”
“According to the Superintendent, you enjoy carving your name into men’s souls.” He observed her, anticipating the moment her inner demon revealed itself, and he learned why she was truly here.
“Do you know what happens to timid women here, sir?”
He knew what happened to timid women in gaol cells; hence, he no longer worked at Bow Street.
“I’m keen to know why you’re here.” She’d been a patient for a long time. People rarely survived a year, let alone more than a decade.
“What’s it to you? He sent you, did he? Wondering if I’d kicked the bucket. Tell him he’ll be dancing on my grave soon enough.” She hummed a folk tune and did a little jig. “Da de,dida,dadiddly dum.”
“Someone is paying for your keep?”
She motioned to the dank room and cackled. “Happen he meant for me to stay at the Pulteney Hotel but got in a muddle.”
“Who?” Dorian pressed. The information might not relate to Miss Chance’s case, but it might support the theory that this woman wasn’t entirely mad. “Do you know his name? Can you describe him?”
The basic questions caused her to stare strangely.
Her sly smile made her look oddly sinister.
She shrugged. “Big black hat. Big shiny shoes. One ruby eye on a stick. He strokes it round and round and makes a girl dizzy.”
Again, Nora Adkins was keen to show how dizzy.
“Get up! Get up!” she cried, having an odd conversation with herself. “Run. Run, Caterina. Let the night swallow you whole.”
She began acting out roles.
Someone weeping, their outstretched hand grabbing at the air.
Someone running, their eyes wide in terror. “Mama!”
Someone looming, a mouth curled into a baleful grin.
“He came for the Jubilee and got lost in the whispers. And here I am, sir, in the belly of the beast, hoping it might belch.”
