Trapped in Time Read online

  “Well, that’s usually a fifty pence trip, that is,” the driver said reluctantly. “But like I said, you don’t belong there, Miss and I can’t be taking you.”

  “I’ll pay you a pound,” Caroline said crisply. “And if you still won’t take me, I’ll find someone who will.”

  The driver frowned and shook his head.

  “Now why would you want to go down there so bad you’d pay a whole pound, Miss? I just can’t understand it.”

  “My husband is there,” Caroline said, hoping he’d be more willing to take her to the mysterious Graves Street if he knew there was a man she knew at the location.

  The driver’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Oh he is, is he? And I reckon you want to give him what for when you catch him?”

  “That’s none of your business,” Caroline said, frowning.

  “Well, whereabouts is he on Graves Street—at least I have to know that,” he protested.

  “Mother Griffith’s,” Caroline told him.

  The driver’s eyebrows went even higher.

  “Well, he’s got nerve, going there—I’ll give him that.” He frowned at her. “Are you sure you want to go after him? Gentlemen will play, you know, Miss. It’s just their nature. A forgiving wife—”

  “Is one thing I am not,” Caroline snapped. “Will you take me or should I find someone else? There’s a pound on the line here,” she added, hoping to entice him. “A whole…entire…pound.” Opening her small purse, she pulled out one of the folded bills and waved it at him like a flag.

  The driver’s eyes widened and then he shrugged and got down to open the door of the carriage.

  “Well, it’s no matter to me if you want to chase your husband down to the worst parts of town. I s’pose I’d as soon take you as someone else. Come on, then.”

  “Thank you.” Nodding, Caroline took his hand and allowed him to help her into the round, mechanical carriage. The driver paused a moment to wind the huge key at the back—which must have taken a great deal of strength, given all the effortful grunting she heard—and then he climbed back into the box at the front of the vehicle.

  The cab started with a rattle and a bang that made Caroline jump and then they were on their way—going the exact opposite direction she should have been headed to get home.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Graves Street was a dark, dirty area very unlike the rows of prim gabled houses where the other Caroline lived or the various fancy mansions she had recently visited. There was trash in the gutters and houses were crammed together, shoulder to shoulder, leaning against each other like drunken soldiers without even a side yard in between. The smog was very thick—the gas streetlamps seemed to float in glowing bubbles of luminescence at intervals along the street.

  “Well, here we are.” The driver pulled up at the curb in front of a building that looked much like all the others, as far as Caroline could see. He came around to open the carriage door for her and she discovered another difference between this part of town and the nicer areas she had been staying in—the smell.

  “Ugh!” She put a hand to her nose involuntarily. The air was redolent with a miasma of rotten garbage, human waste, and animal offal. It was almost overpowering.

  “Yuh, that’s the smell of Graves Street, all right,” the driver said, nodding at her. “Not exactly a dozen roses, is it, Miss?”

  “It’s…a little hard to get used to,” Caroline admitted with a gasp. Still, if this was where Richard had gone, then she intended to follow him. She wasn’t going to let the foul odor of this place put her off.

  “Miss, are you sure you want to get out here?” the driver asked, frowning. “It ain’t safe for a proper young lady, so it ain’t! Come on now, let me take you back home. I won’t even charge you extra. You can rake your husband over the coals much safer when he gets back to you, so you can!”

  Caroline lifted her chin determinedly.

  “Thank you for your kind offer, but no. I am here and I am staying.”

  She pushed the crinkly paper bill into the driver’s hand and then allowed him, still protesting, to help her safely down to the curb. She did this mainly because they appeared to have parked right beside a large pile of horse manure and she didn’t want to fall into it in the ungainly dress she was wearing. But once she was safely on the sidewalk, she gave him a cool nod and made her way directly to the building he had indicated was Mother Griffith’s.

  It was a sort of brownstone, she saw when she got up to it. There was a doorknob but when she attempted to turn it, she found it locked.

  Caroline frowned. Well, so much for sneaking in and looking around without anyone noticing her. Clearly she would have to take the more direct approach. There was also a simple brass knocker in the middle of the plain black door. Caroline used it to rap smartly on the door twice and then she waited.

  After what seemed like a long, long time, the door opened a crack and the same boy she’d seen earlier—the one who had come to get Richard—poked his head out. His eyes widened when he saw her.

  “Who are you, Miss and what do you want?” he asked bluntly. “You must be in the wrong place—we don’t serve ladies here.”

  “I want to see Doctor Richard Vii,” Caroline said sharply. “And don’t deny he’s here—I know he is.”

  The boy’s eyes got even wider and he slammed the door in her face.

  For a moment Caroline just stood there, shocked. Then she grabbed the brass knocker and banged it against the door again, producing a loud, angry rapping sound. If they thought they could keep her out, they had another think coming!

  After a long moment, the door opened again but this time it was a woman who greeted her. She had long, sleek blonde hair which was caught up into a fashionable updo and pinned in place with a tiny hat at the crown of her head. A jaunty peacock plume decorated the hat and bounced when the woman moved.

  But it wasn’t her headwear that drew the eye—it was the rest of her costume. The girl had on a tight scarlet, satin bustier which pushed up her full breasts until they were practically spilling out the top. It led down to a short black and scarlet skirt—very short, since it ended at the tops of her thighs and exposed her long, shapely legs completely. To go with the abbreviated dress, she had on thigh-high fishnet hose which were held up with golden garters and stylish black boots with golden laces. In her hand, she carried a long black riding crop which she slapped idly against her thigh as she addressed Caroline.

  “Well, well, what have we here?” she purred, her cat-green eyes wide with interest. “What might someone like you be doing someplace like this?”

  “I’m here for Richard,” Caroline repeated, but she was beginning to get a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Dressed as she was, there was no way this woman could be anything but a prostitute—which meant that Mother Griffith’s was a bordello or brothel of some kind. Richard was cheating on her—on the other Caroline, anyway.

  I thought he was better than that, whispered a little voice in her head. I thought Kindred never cheated on their wives!

  After everything he’d told her about Lord Harkens being an “unfaithful husband” it seemed horribly hypocritical.

  But of course, the other Caroline had been keeping him at a distance for two years—the entire length of their marriage. She supposed she didn’t blame him for seeking comfort in the arms of another woman, considering that his own wife absolutely refused to let him near her. Still, she couldn’t help feeling hurt and disappointed.

  That didn’t mean she was ready to go, though.

  “I’m here for Richard,” she repeated. “I know he’s here so let me in—I want to see him!”

  This seemed to amuse the girl.

  “Very well then, come in,” she said, flinging the door wide. “But don’t expect to see him anytime soon. He’s with Emmeline and likely to stay a while.”

  Feeling sick, Caroline stepped over the threshold and into what seemed to be another world.

  The room