Page 118 of Unmasking the Diamond
“Stay strong, Charlotte,” he murmured inwardly, his hand curling into a fist on his knee.Hold on. I’m coming for you.
20
Luca leaned forward as the coach rolled beneath the iron gate that guarded The Chelmsford Asylum. The gate’s black bars cast long, thin shadows across the gravel. Beyond them, the building rose in two grim levels of dark stone. The place looked abandoned in the way of old mistakes: shut up, stubborn, and waiting to be forgotten.
“This is The Chelmsford Asylum?” he asked, letting his gaze sweep the unkempt gardens.
Lord Matthew shrugged with an air of practiced indifference. “How would I know? I have never been here before.”
Luca’s jaw tightened. “Didn’t you accompany your wife when you had her committed? Or was the matter so trifling that you didn’t bother?” The words were curt, unyielding. They came from a well of anger that had nothing to do with Matthew and everything to do with the thought of Charlotte—of anyone—trapped behind those stone walls.
“My wife is mad,” Matthew attempted again, but it lost whatever conviction it might once have had with each repetition. Luca heard the hollow echo of a man trying to convince himself.
Lord Rupert interjected, “Mad to marry you.”
Matthew shot Rupert a glare. “Says the bachelor. How do you know what it is like being shackled to a wife?”
“I don’t, but I sure wouldn’t place my wife in a place like this, even if she were declared mad,” Rupert said, censure in his voice.
“That is easy for you to say, but wait until you are in my position,” Matthew remarked, looking entirely unbothered by the situation.
The coach halted on the gravel and they stepped down. Up close, the building’s stones were blackened at the corners and the mullions had been left to gather grime. A shutter banged in a lonely breeze. Luca’s inspection was interrupted when the heavy door opened and a short man with slicked blond hair and an eager smile appeared.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” the man said with his hands out wide. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
Luca fell back a pace and nodded at Matthew. “Lord Matthew would like to retrieve his wife from here.”
The smile drained. “I’m afraid that is impossible. He can’t come unannounced and expect her to be released. The owners must be notified first.”
Luca stepped forward. “And who, pray tell, are you?”
The man adjusted his lapels. “I am Mr. Bancroft. I run The Chelmsford Asylum.”
Luca couldn’t help the contempt in his voice. “Not very well, if you ask me.”
Mr. Bancroft’s eyes narrowed. “You come here and insult me? What gives you the right to do so?”
Luca didn’t have time to dispense with the pleasantries. “Forgive me,” he said dryly. “My name is Lord Luca Dexter. These are Lord Alcott, Lord Rupert Milnes, and Lord Matthew.”
“I’m sorry you came all this way, but I do not have the authorization to release Lady Matthew,” Mr. Bancroft said as if that resolved the matter.
Matthew turned towards the coach, ready to retreat. “You heard the man. We should go.”
Alcott did not move. “You will go release Lady Matthew at once and anyone else you have locked up here.”
Mr. Bancroft’s face paled. “Surely, you cannot be serious. We have five other patients here. We can’t just allow them to leave.”
“Is one of them Lady Charlotte?” Alcott demanded.
“No,” Mr. Bancroft replied quickly. Too quickly to be anything but a lie.
Alcott moved to stand before Mr. Bancroft. “Lady Charlotte is my sister, and I have it on good authority that she is being held prisoner at The Chelmsford Asylum.”
“Then you misunderstood because there is no one here by that name.”
“I will be the judge of that,” Alcott said, brushing past the man.
Mr. Bancroft turned and followed Alcott inside. “My lord, please, you cannot just walk inside the asylum.”
