Deadlight-Hall(84)

He took a moment to answer, and I had the impression that he was choosing his words very carefully. He is not what I would call an educated man, but he has learned most of the trappings of gentlemanly behaviour and speech along the way.

He said, ‘An order has been made for my wife to be deported. The colonies – Australia, I think. But I’m not prepared to let that happen.’

Now, in most men those words would have indicated a protectiveness – a determination to shield a loved one from a dreadful future. In Augustus Breadspear they indicated something very different indeed. His whole expression shifted and altered, so that it was as if someone else looked out through his eyes. Someone who was cruel and vindictive and bent on a very particular kind of revenge.

‘But surely you can’t do anything to stop it,’ I said.

‘Oh, can’t I indeed?’ He made the gesture of rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. ‘Wheels can be oiled,’ he said. ‘People in certain positions can be persuaded to bend rules.’

I stared at him. ‘You are saying you could – you would – pay people to ensure that instead of Mrs Breadspear being deported, she is released into your care.’

Even as I said it I could hear how incredible it sounded, but he instantly said, ‘Yes, exactly that. She will not be put on board that convict ship. As for where she goes when she is placed in my hands – well, I can’t keep her in my own house, of course. For one thing the arrangement of the rooms makes it impossible to provide the necessary accommodation for her. She would be seen – and heard. For another thing – to be frank with you, I can’t bear the prospect of having her under my own roof.’ He made a gesture of repulsion. ‘She is the woman who brutally killed her two children and mine. But her wits are in shreds, as we both know. And,’ he said, assuming an air of piety, ‘she is my wife, and I feel an obligation.’

‘And so you want to put her in Deadlight Hall?’ I said, bluntly. ‘As a hidden prisoner?’

‘I do.’ His eyes gleamed and he said, ‘I prefer to have her under my own control.’ His lips twisted in an unpleasant smile, and again that other person showed. ‘A hidden prisoner,’ he said, half to himself.

‘But you referred to young people being at Deadlight Hall. Children with no parents – or parents who did not want them. Young apprentices from the various manufactories.’

‘Yes?’

‘Wouldn’t there be danger?’ I said, in a lowered voice. ‘From – from your wife?’

‘Not if she were kept properly secured.’ Again I heard and sensed the ‘otherness’ behind the words. In that moment I believe I understood him, and I saw that he actually wanted his wife to be within tantalizing reach of children – not because he wanted the children hurt in any way, but because he believed it would add another layer of cruelty and punishment to his wife’s captivity.

Then, in an ordinary voice, he said, ‘Such an arrangement would have to be reliant on certain things. As I said, I need to employ some suitable person as a keeper – ideally someone with a little medical knowledge—’

‘It would be a residential post, I take it?’ I asked.

‘It would have to be,’ he said. ‘And I appreciate that as a married lady that might pose a difficulty. But for the right person, I am prepared to pay very handsomely.’

We looked at one another. Then I said, ‘I think something might be arranged.’

But this is a situation that requires careful thought. I will certainly accept that Mr Breadspear can, as he calls it, oil the wheels and that he has – or will – persuade certain people to let his wife go. I suppose there will be some sort of plan by which it will appear she has been put on to a convict ship. In reality, though, she will never go aboard. She will remain here.

It is Breadspear’s own behaviour and manner that disturbs me. In particular, that moment when he said, ‘I prefer to have her under my control.’

I am convinced that Augustus Breadspear wants to witness as much as possible of his wife’s captivity and her suffering. What is worse, I believe he will enjoy witnessing it.

But in his own words he is prepared to pay handsomely.

Michael leaned his head back against the latticed window, his mind tumbling with images. So they had brought Esther to Deadlight Hall, and they had imprisoned her in the attics. It had been a twisted punishment on Breadspear’s part, and on Maria’s …