If He's Sinful (26 page)

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Authors: Hannah Howell

Tags: #London (England), #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Psychic ability, #Historical, #Fiction, #Love Stories

BOOK: If He's Sinful
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“Penelope—”

“Nay. I will not be swayed in this.”

He pressed his cloth-covered mouth to her forehead and then hurried after Cornell. Penelope slowly walked down into what she could only call hell on earth. The smell came from a young woman hanging in chains on a far wall. She could not have been dead for many days but the vermin so common in the dark alleys and the places lining them had done their gruesome work. What horrified Penelope the most was that the keys to the girl’s chains hung near but just out of reach. The cruelty of such a thing was beyond her understanding. Next to the body the Bow Street men were taking down was the woman’s spirit but what caused tears to sting Penelope’s eyes was the spirit of a small boy who stood beside her.

Help him. He has found me
.

Recognizing Faith’s voice, Penelope spun around to see an ashen-faced Brant staring into the grave he had dug open. The shovel slipped from his hands as he fell to his knees. Penelope quickly moved to his side and placed her hand on his hair. Even as she wondered how he could tell it was his Faith, he removed a small ring from the finger of the corpse. When he looked up at Penelope, tears running freely down his cheeks, her heart broke at the depth of the grief she could read in his eyes.

“How?” he asked. “Did her lover desert her?”

Penelope saw Faith shake her head. “There was no lover, Brant.”

My father lied. My father threw me into hell for a pouch of gold
.

“Ah, nay.” It just kept getting worse, Penelope thought and wondered how much more any of them could endure. “Truly, there was never anyone else.”

“Is she here?” he whispered and looked around. “Can she tell you what happened to her?”

“She says her father lied to you, that he gave her away for a pouch of gold.”

“Her own father sold her to a brothel? A vicar?”

Lady Mallam paid. Warn them.

“Warn who?”

My brothers and sisters. Warn them.

“I will see to it. So will Brant.”

“What does she want?” Brant asked. “Anything. I will do anything to make up for what I did. I believed her father. I failed her. I should have believed in her and no one else. I should have searched for her.”

“Brant, the man is a vicar with a sterling reputation. Of course you believed what he said. Faith wants us to tell her brothers and sisters what was done to her. I think she fears they are in danger. They must be warned in case their father has an idea to make some more coin on any of his other children.” She watched as Ashton and Cornell moved to Faith’s graveside and began the grim task of putting her body in a large blanket and wrapping it up tightly.

No blame lies with him
.

“If I had but looked for her,” Brant said.

“Nay, she does not blame you.” Penelope rubbed Brant’s back as Faith whispered the whole ugly tale of her fate into her mind.

A harsh cry distracted Penelope from watching Faith watch Brant. She looked around and found Tucker’s son clutching something and knew he had found the girl he had been courting. “I must help the others,” she told Brant as she stood up. “They need to find peace.”

Brant grabbed her by the hand. “Despite all I thought, I never stopped loving her, never stopped hoping she would return to me and explain it all.”

“She knows. But you must let go of her now, Brant. She needs peace.”

Penelope began to make her way from spirit to spirit, getting what little information she could from them, and helping them to finally let go. She ignored the looks of the men who continued the grim work of uncovering the bodies. Finally, only Faith was left. Her spirit lingered near Brant, who no longer wept but clutched the little ring and stared blindly at the blanket-shrouded remains of his lover.

“Brant,” she said, pulling his gaze to hers. “Let her go. This is not the place for her but she cannot leave it unless you let her go. She needs to move on.”

Tell him to find love again. He must not let grief and betrayal bind his heart
.

“I will,” she whispered. She watched Brant stand up. Finger by finger he loosed his tight grip on the ring.

“Farewell, love,” he whispered, kissed the little ring, pocketed it, and moved to help the other men.

Just as a smiling Faith disappeared, one of the Bow Street men joined Penelope and said, “Got the sight, eh?”

Penelope nodded toward Brant. “It was his fiancée who started this search.” She looked around and counted ten holes. “So many.” She frowned for she suddenly realized she had seen more than ten ghosts.

“’Spect there be more.” He nodded when Penelope paled. “That woman has had a brothel here for nigh to ten years. I sent Tom off to get more men. There be a lot more ground to search. Cellar runs to a large room on either side of this one. Funny them leaving things like rings and bracelets with the dead.”

“Burying all proof that these poor souls were ever here.”

He nodded. “Got the right of it.” He sighed heavily. “The little lad was the hardest.”

“His name was Tim.”

“Aye,” said Tucker as he stepped up to them. “Butcher’s son. Recognized his wee cap. His mam made it for him and he was that proud of it. Disappeared three years ago.”

“You got more names?” the Bow Street man asked Penelope and quickly pulled out a bit of paper and lead to write down the ones she gave him, all seventeen of them.

“It might be difficult to explain how you got those names,” Penelope said when she was done.

“I will think of a fine lie, no worry there. No more ghosts?”

“Nay.”

“Was hoping you could help us see if there were others buried here. This list implies there are at least seven more. Save some time and sweat if we could know where they all are.”

“I can do that. ’Tis not only the spirit I see. I can sense where the dead are buried. Get me something to mark the places and I will walk through the rest of this hell.”

“We will be taking Meggie and Tim home to their folk,” said Tucker. “They will send the rewards round to Bow Street. The butcher had gathered one, too.” Tucker looked at Ashton and his friends. “Good men. Not many of their sort would do this.”

Penelope managed a small smile. “They are very good men. Not one of them was certain I had seen a ghost but they still worked hard to find the truth. I am sorry for your son’s loss.”

Tucker nodded. “He be grieving, but knowing is always better than not knowing.” He walked away.

The Bow Street man brought her a small sack of kindling he must have snatched from the kitchens and Penelope began the sad task of finding other graves. By the time she was done, the total number of dead had reached two and thirty and she was exhausted in mind and soul. She climbed up the steps to find the brothel utterly silent. Penelope idly wondered how many had been dragged away to face prison, a trial, and undoubtedly, a hanging. After what she had seen, she found that she simply did not care what happened to any of them.

She stepped outside and found herself immediately wrapped in Ashton’s strong arms. Penelope tossed aside the cloth she had worn over her face and pressed close to him. She tried to find some strength and comfort in his arms. “Brant wants to take Faith home now,” he said. “I have already sent the boys home.”

“Thank you.”

“Let me take you home as well.”

“Nay, we will go with Brant.”

“Penelope, you look utterly exhausted.”

“Is it a long journey?”

“No, her father is the vicar in a small village just to the south of the city.”

“Then I will come with you.”

“Why?”

“Because I have seen Faith. I have talked with her. Brant may have questions.” She sighed. “It may also be something needed to get Faith’s brothers and sisters to see the truth about their father and that was what Faith asked of us.”

Ashton frowned. “Brant might have questions but surely those can wait? S’truth, mayhap this is something he should do alone. You can always warn her brothers and sisters later.”

“Nay. You see, there is something Faith told me that I did not tell Brant. I need to tell him. I am just not sure how. If the confrontation with the vicar does not bring the whole ugly truth out, I shall have to speak up.”

“What could be uglier than a man selling his own daughter to a brothel?”

“Oh, the vicar did not do that. He did sell Faith in a way, taking coin and letting someone else drag her away. I think he also suspected what fate awaited her but did not care. It was that someone else who saw that the poor girl was sold into that hell.”

Ashton had a very bad feeling about what she would say, but he still asked, “Who?”

“Lady Mallam.”

Ashton pressed his face against her neck and cursed for a long time before he lifted his head. “Let us get this over with.”

Brant refused to allow Faith’s body to be put anywhere but on a carriage seat. Penelope could understand his aversion to her remains being treated like luggage, but it meant that he rode alone with the dead. Perhaps it was for the best, she decided as she joined the others in the second carriage. The man needed time to grieve privately. It might give him the strength to endure the next blow.

She leaned against Ashton as she struggled to forget what she had seen in those cellars. All four men were silent and Penelope suspected they were also trying to fight back the ugly memories of that place. It was hard to conceive how anyone could have such a complete disregard for life. Mrs. Cratchitt was a monster.

“He is eaten up with guilt for not looking for her,” said Whitney, abruptly breaking the heavy silence.

Ashton nodded. “It will take him a long while to understand that he did nothing wrong in believing the word of a vicar all thought was such a pious man.”

“How would a vicar in a little village south of London know where to sell his daughter?”

After a quick glance at Penelope, who nodded, Ashton told them about Lady Mallam’s part in it all. “We all know she was not happy with his choice but I never would have thought her capable of such a crime against an innocent woman.”

Once their shock had passed, Ashton’s friends began to discuss how they could help Brant and what should be done about Lady Mallam. Penelope closed her eyes and allowed herself to dose lightly against Ashton. She was not looking forward to the confrontation with the vicar but she needed to make certain that her promises to Faith were fulfilled.

When the carriage stopped, she sat up and blinked her eyes. It took her a moment to shake off her weariness. Just as she was about to ask what they should do next, Cornell cursed and leapt from the carriage. Whitney and Victor quickly followed. As Ashton helped her out, she saw that Brant had already grabbed the vicar and was dragging him toward the carriage where Faith’s body rested.

“This is not good,” muttered Ashton.

“I do not see what is wrong with him being angry at the man who sent his own daughter to her death,” said Penelope as she hurried to keep up with his long strides.

“I cannot be sure how far Brant’s anger and grief will make him go, and I do not think it is a sight for them to see.” He nodded toward the house.

At first Penelope saw only the house. It was a pretty thatched-roofed cottage surrounded by flower beds. She wondered how anything so pretty and innocent looking could house such a man. Then she saw the children. There were eight of them. Four boys and four girls. They all stood just outside the door of the house watching Brant’s rough treatment of their father with wide eyes. She suspected seeing five gentlemen who were so obviously of the aristocracy only added to their fear.

Just as she took a step toward them, the largest of the four boys began to move toward the carriage where Brant had opened the door and was shoving the vicar inside, his siblings hesitantly following him. “Ashton, do not let the children see the body,” she said as she caught up with him. “Try to keep them back. They should not see their sister like that.”

“Look upon what you have done to your own child,” Brant said as he reached in and yanked the blanket back to reveal Faith’s body. “You lied. She never went off with a soldier. You sold her to a brothel and she died there.”

“No! No!” The vicar tried to scramble back, to put some distance between himself and the body of his child. “I never sent her to such a place of sin.”

“But you sold her to someone, did you not? Got yourself a fat bag of gold for her, too.”

Penelope glanced at the children and could tell by their expressions that they had knowledge of the money. She was pleased to see that Ashton had Victor’s help in holding them back from the carriage but nothing could save them from hearing the whole ugly truth of what had been done to Faith. They would be warned about their father as Faith had wanted, but Penelope could not help worrying over how deeply it would hurt them.

“I needed money!” the man shouted and cried out when Brant tossed him to the ground. “I have so many children and being the vicar here does not pay well. What was I to do? I could barely keep food on the table.”

“You could have let me marry her as I intended to do. I spoke to you of it, gave Faith a ring. We would have been wed as soon as the banns were read. That would have helped.”

The vicar shook his head. “No, she would not allow that. She threatened my position. I had to do it.”

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