Charlotte’s stomach twisted as she realised this was where they kept their victims, before transporting them elsewhere.
‘Sarah?’ she whispered hoarsely, straining to see into the neighbouring cages.
No answer.
Panic tightened her chest. Was Sarah here—or someplace else entirely?
What if—
She nearly sobbed aloud.
‘Sarah?’ she called again, louder this time.
Relief flooded through her as her eyes adjusted enough to make out Sarah’s small figure curled upon the floor nearby, beginning to stir awake.
‘Miss Lucas?’ came another frightened yet familiar voice farther down the row.
‘Lucy?’
Shock and relief swept through Charlotte in equal measure. She could scarcely believe she found her too.
But they were all trapped together with no means of escape.
‘They caught you too, Miss Lucas,’ Lucy whispered miserably.
Sarah had fully awakened now, and the panic in her voice told Charlotte all she needed to know.
‘Are they going to kill us?’
‘No, dearest,’ Charlotte said quickly, forcing calm into her voice. ‘If they intended to kill us, they would already have done so. I think they mean to transport us somewhere. We must find a way out before that happens.’
‘Lord Stanley will come for us, will he not?’ Sarah whispered shakily. ‘He will look for us?’
Charlotte’s heart sank.
‘Of course,’ she lied.
How could she explain that Mrs Wilberforce had likely already forged some convincing story? Perhaps she had claimed Charlotte willingly eloped with the Captain. Lord Stanley might even believe it.
After all, Charlotte had never truly told him her feelings had changed.
Even the cipher was burned by Mrs Wilberforce.
Her breath caught sharply.
But no—it no longer mattered. The black book remained with Lord Stanley whilst she was imprisoned here.
No one was coming.
She would have to save herself—and everyone else besides.
Charlotte forced herself to draw a steadying breath and scanned the gloomy cellar once more, searching desperately for anything that might prove useful.
Then her gaze caught upon a rusted nail protruding from one of the iron bars.
Very carefully, Charlotte turned her back towards it and began sawing the cloth around her wrists against the sharp edge.
Slowly.
