Page 36 of Unmasking the Earl

“I understand some poor wretch was cast into the Blind House last night,” one woman said.

Ned ground his teeth. Yes. That would be him. He didn’t care for being called a poor wretch.

“Does that happen often?” the other woman enquired.

“Not too often. They are usually let go the following day. It’s assumed they’ve learned their lesson…or sobered up. There’s the pillory for repeat offenders, of course,” answered the first voice.

“How dreadful,” exclaimed the second.

Ned’s ears pricked up. That voice. Had he heard it before?

“Achilles Marsh, our constable, is meticulous in carrying out his duties. He owns a full set of Parish Law and can quote you chapter and verse.”

Ned scowled, distracted by the name of his persecutor. Achilles Marsh. He would remember that name.

“If you stand on this stone here, you can peep in,” the first woman informed her companion.

“Heavens, no. I don’t wish to revel in some stranger’s misfortune.”

Ned felt as if he had been struck by lightning. He did know that voice. All too well.

He leaped up and went as close to the bars as his chains would allow.

“Miss Blythe? I am quite certain I ordered you to go home and stay out of trouble,” he called.

There was a strangled noise from outside, then, after a bout of scrabbling, a bonneted head appeared silhouetted against the sky.

“My l— er, Ned? Is that really you?”

He ground out, “Miss Blythe. What are you doing here?”

As if he didn’t know.

After a guilt-laden pause, she said, “I’m here to visit my friend, Mrs. Fiennes. I believe I mentioned she lives in Aston.”

He was proud of how he kept his temper. Quod erat demonstrandum. He could control it. “You traveled alone?”

“I came with my maid, Ella. Not Wycherley, if that’s what you’re asking,” she said, with obvious affront.

He heard the first voice ask, “Is this one of the people you were asking about?” A second shadow obscured the opening. “Good afternoon!”

Ned groaned inwardly. As if it wasn’t bad enough for Cassie to see him in this mortifying situation.

Both heads disappeared amid a muffled discussion. Ned’s chains clanked dismally as he scrubbed his face with his hands. Could this day get any worse?

Cassie’s voice came again as her head reappeared. “What have you done to deserve your incarceration, sir?”

“Nothing! It’s a complete farce, a travesty of justice. The landlord of the inn was rude to me, so I decided to move on, and slammed the door a bit too vigorously, never for a moment expecting to break its hinges. They must have been inferior, or already damaged. The landlord is being unnecessarily vengeful.”

Cassie gave an unladylike snort. “You’re a fine one to talk. Isn’t vengeance exactly what you want?”

Minx.

Had she no compassion for his untenable situation? Obviously not. The woman needed a good— She wanted a thorough—

He clamped his lips together in a hard line. Damn it! He would not think about that right now.

When he didn’t reply, she said softly, “Has your true identity been discovered?”