Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

He sent word to James, Harrison, William, Joseph and Connor with the simplest of instructions – an address and the words ‘come immediately’.  They would not hesitate. They were family. If there was a problem, they dealt with it together.

There was an inn down the road from the secluded brothel that Henry had chosen to stay at. From his window in the upstairs room he could see who came and went. The inn wasn’t a particularly nice establishment. It just gave him the simplest of beds, a wash table and a desk. He spent the majority of his time sitting at the desk and watching the building. The only ‘customers’ were aging men who appeared to be guiltily checking over their shoulders, as if to make sure their wives were not aware of them being there. It disgusted him to see how many men dishonoured their marriage vows.

Connor was the first to arrive a week after he’d sent his letters. Carrying a satchel of belongings and a sturdy, Scottish dirk, he was prepared for whatever Henry needed him for.

“I’m sorry to take you away from Sabine and the children,” Henry apologised as Connor set his things down on the small bed.

“It’s no’ a problem, Henry,” Connor assured him, flashing him a crooked smile. “I know you’d do the same for me if I needed it.” Henry had forgotten how thick Connor’s Scottish accent was. His voice made Alice seem like she spoke perfect English.

“Thank you,” he said gratefully. “How are the children?” he asked. “And Sabine for that matter. I hear congratulations are in order. Number four!”

Connor chuckled. “I know, I’m very lucky. I think tha’ is where we’ll stop though, I don’ think my nerves could handle Sabine in labour again. Ellie, Colin and Callum are very happy with their new sister.”

Henry was yet to meet the newest addition to the McKenzie clan. He would meet the new daughter come Christmastime, though she would nearly be a year old then. “Mama said you called her Lily?” He recalled hearing the name over breakfast when they’d received word of the birth in late January.

“Aye,” Connor confirmed. “She’s as bonny as a cherub and I’m a very proud da’.” He looked it when he spoke about his children. Henry craved that feeling, the feeling of unconditional love towards one’s children. He thought he would make a good father one day – he was already a good uncle.

Henry filled Connor in on everything. He told him all about Ebony, how she was imprisoned and what Vernon held over her and all the other people who worked for him. Connor was ready to help immediately.

Two days later one of Ethridge’s carriages arrived outside the inn driven by William. His brother and his brother’s in law all climbed out carrying the bare essentials, all looking ready for business.

James briefed them all on what the prostitute had told him. Celeste was kept in the attic. Mrs Young had the key. There were paid guards that they had to get through.

“No problem,” Connor said deviously, flexing his enormous biceps. “My father may have been a tyrant in my youth, bu’ he knew how to train a soldier.”

“And I didn’t rise to my position in the navy without learning a few tricks,” William added. On his hip was a pistol and his naval sword. Henry didn’t want anyone to die … bar one man, but he wasn’t here … but he certainly would not have any deaths on his conscience, or on the consciences of the people he loved.

“I must reiterate, you don’t have to be involved,” Henry said again, after he’d said so twelve or so times before. If they weren’t sure, he didn’t want to put them in danger.

“Henry, we all have daughters,” James said simply. “We would wring Vernon’s neck if it were one of them. The same applies to any other man’s daughter.”

Fatherhood worked well for James. Though Henry couldn’t imagine him being so calm and collected if Juliette or Madeleine were being starved and threatened with prostitution.

“Alright.” Henry nodded. “Let’s get Celeste.”

The six men walked in two rows of three, together and prepared. Henry had made sure Harrison had brought his medical bag – if Celeste was as ill as he thought then she would need immediate attention. Henry opened the door and led them to the stairwell that was concealed behind the red curtain. The place was still as dark and dreary as it had been over a week ago and the scent of smoke were ever present.

The stairs creaked as they walked up the, passing the girls on their way up. They looked frightened of them, perhaps they knew that they were not there to solicit a private audience. The second floor was a long corridor with doors on both sides. A handful of women were lazing about on dusty, red settees but tensed and sat up straight when they saw Henry and his party. By the frightened looks on all their faces, they didn’t like their work. Perhaps they too were under the control of Vernon. Perhaps they had everything to lose.

“The attic?” Henry asked firmly to the first woman he saw. She could not have been more than eighteen years old. Her hair was a dirty blonde colour and was tied up with a red ribbon. “Where is it?” He’d never been so intimidating in his life. He was used to being quiet.

She didn’t answer him, instead she backed away and cowered with another. Two men emerged from one of the doors. They were big and burly and looked the type to be henchmen for Vernon. They looked alike so they were most likely brothers. They shared the same greasy, black hair that was pulled back into a ponytail and they wore thin slacks and shirts that looked to be stained with strong liquor by the smell of them. They’d be no problem.

“Stand aside, gentlemen,” William said politely. “Our business is not with you.”

“Like hell it isn’t,” the first of the men said gruffly. “No pay, no play.”

How tasteless. Henry would be very willing to pay if he received Celeste’s freedom in return. “We’re here for the young girl in the attic. We don’t want any trouble,” Henry said calmly, doing his best to avoid a fight. Both William and Connor stood at the front of the group, ready to attack them head on if necessary.

“What young girl in the attic?” This time it was a woman who spoke. She was not a prostitute, but an older, cheaply dressed woman who exited the same room as the men had. She was very thin and tall and her skin betrayed her age. She was wearing slightly more conservative clothes than the girls who worked in the brothel, but not very. She had to be Mrs Young. “There is no such girl.”

“Deny it all you like, Mrs Young, but Celeste Seaver is here and we are to take her with us or we will have a problem,” Henry said sternly. “I’ll take those keys.” He pointed to the iron set hanging around her neck.

“I know no such girl,” Mrs Young spat. “Now leave or I’ll have you thrown out.”

“A hundred pounds for the girl,” Henry offered.

He could see Mrs Young looked tempted. She most likely didn’t receive wages if Vernon ran this establishment the way he did his other businesses. Though she wasn’t in it because of his threats, she was in love with Vernon, it was obvious by the look on her face. “No,” Mrs Young retorted. “She is the personal property of Vernon Shaw. You can’t buy her without his permission and you’ll have to pay a lot more.”

So she’d gone from denying her existence to haggling. Henry was not in the mood. “I gave you a chance, madam.” He shrugged his shoulders and motioned for Connor and William to go forth. In a matter of seconds, the inebriated muscle were unconscious on the floor, making a loud bang as their dead weight landed.

Mrs Young shuffled back a few steps, shaking her head. Henry joined her in a few strides and removed the keys from around her neck, not caring if it hurt her or not.

“Shame on you,” he spat. “I hope you can go to God with a clear conscience because Saint Peter is certainly not letting you in. Now, the attic?” he pressed, allowing her one last chance at clemency.

Mrs Young’s hazel eyes watered as she slowly nodded towards one of the door in the hall.

“Thank you for your helpfulness,” Henry said sarcastically. He released Mrs Young and fished into his pocket to retrieve his money pouch. He didn’t know how much was in there, but he hoped it enough to give the girls a head start. “Go,” he said as he tossed it on the floor in front of several of the prostitutes. “Mr Shaw will be swinging before he knows any of you are gone. Get out and start fresh.”

One of the women timidly picked up the pouch and gasped when she saw what was inside. A few others joined her in looking. They immediately threw Henry thankful smiles and all escaped down the stairs, the last being the frightened red head that he’d spoken to the first time he’d been to investigate.

“Let’s go,” Henry said to Harrison, Joseph and James. William and Connor were waiting with the two henchmen, just in case they roused. The staircase up to the attic was even narrower. The walls were cold stone and the only light was provided by a small lamp hanging on the wall that was flickering. At the top of the stairs was a wooden door with a small trap door at the bottom, most likely used to push her scraps through. Henry tried each one of the keys until he found the one that fit. Feeling the lock release, he swung open the door and looked inside. It was pitch black and he couldn’t see anything, all he could hear though, was wheezing. “Celeste?” he called out. The wheezing stopped immediately. She was holding her breath. “Celeste, it’s alright. I’m here to help you.” Still nothing moved. He then remembered what Ebony had told him. “Little Monkey,” he called out. “It’s alright.” The wheezing resumed and he heard movement. Coming into the flickering light was a tiny child. She peered up at Henry with fearful, pale blue eyes. She was eight but she looked to be about four by the size of her. She was skin and bones. Her blonde hair was matted and she had bruises covering her body. The dress she wore was torn and dirty and she wore nothing on her feet. She would freeze, if not die from her lungs giving out if nothing was done.

“Who … who are you?” Celeste whispered, before nearly coughing her lungs out.

“Harrison,” Henry said quickly. “Help her.”

Harrison immediately knelt down beside her and opened his bag. Celeste looked absolutely petrified as he pulled out the instrument that allowed him to listen to her heart.

Henry knelt down beside Harrison. “Celeste, my name is Henry. Ebony is my friend and she asked me to find you.” He touched her had comfortingly but flinched. She was as cold as ice. He instantly removed his coat and put it around her shoulders though it looked like a ball gown on her. “You are safe now, I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Celeste’s fear evaporated at the mention of Ebony’s name. “Ebbie? Where is she?” Another violent cough shook her.

“I’m going to collect her and the two of you will be together again,” Henry promised. “Harrison, we have to get out of here. Let’s take her to grandmamma’s. You can treat her there.” Henry scooped Celeste up and was astonished to feel how light she was. His three year old nephew was heavier than she. He cradled Celeste to his chest and motioned for James, Joseph and Harrison to follow him. Celeste’s tiny arms curled around Henry’s neck tightly. He’d won her trust. Now he had to save her life.

---

Hope you liked it :)

So a few of you have said that I make you laugh in my little end notes! I'm glad I make someone, besides myself laugh :P

But my day today was not funny, aside from the truck driver that started joining in my singing of Journey's 'Don't Stop Believing' at the traffic lights, that was cool :P But yeah, so I was at the shops buying Fast and Furious 6 on DVD and then a 24 can pack of Coke Zero for my brothers because I'm a fabulous sister and I'm 20 feet from my car and the box breaks and cans go EVERYWHERE! I'm in the middle of the carpark and things are just rolling. The people around me stop, turn around and take alternate routes instead of helping me. Thank you world, up yours too! Maybe if I was wearing my push up bra some guy may have helped me, it's worked before. But yeah, so there I am picking up cans in the middle of the freaking road and then I'm carrying a broken box to my car. Why aren't people nice anymore? Maybe I should move to Canada. I would have helped someone if they dropped their stuff. Put your hands in the air if you're a decent human being!!!!!!

Moral of the story: Having a big rack and great bra equals getting guys to help you. Looking like me (glasses, messy bun, leggings and ugg boots) will result in you standing in the middle of the carpark with your crap everywhere.

If you guys ever drop anything, be sure that I'll help you because I have a heart *BIG SMILE!!!* :D Have marvellous days everyone, and don't follow the norm, give a helping hand :)

Vote and comment :)