With her realization came sadness. “It’s my fault you’re in here. I’m guessing you and your partner are from the Pinkerton Agency.”
The other woman gave that same indelicate snort. “Why would it be your fault? A detective always has a partner to help with this type of thing. It’s all his,” Charity spat on the floor when she said that word. “--fault that I’m here!”
Lilah looked away and shuddered at the girl’s rough manners. While she worked to gain composure, Charity muttered in a low tone. Growling about the faithless partner, Lilah supposed.
Twisting to look at her companion, Lilah again tried to explain. “I was kidnapped by the slavers and taken to a brothel last summer.” Even in the dark, she could sense Charity intently focusing on her now.
“I was rescued, but I’m still afraid. That’s why I hired the Pinkertons to find the man behind this ring of evil.” There, maybe now Charity would understand the reason Lilah felt responsible for the predicament.
Charity harrumphed and spat. This time Lilah didn’t react. Maybe she was coming to expect the behavior from the woman.
“That don’t make you responsible. It just makes you smart not to leave the bad guy out there to hurt you again.”
A weary laugh escaped Lilah’s lips. “But, I think he’s done just that. I expect the same man organized my kidnapping.” More quietly, she added, “For the second time.”
The light coming in the window shone brighter now, telling Lilah that it must be midmorning. It shone around her companion’s head, halo-like. Charity Melrose was a beautiful woman. Not that looks seemed to matter to the men running this scheme. After all, Lilah knew not all the girls in the brothel had been beauties, herself included.
The black-haired woman muttered, “If only I had a knife to work on these ropes.”
That statement had Lilah kicking her feet. Being certain she still wore her right boot, she pushed and wiggled until her feet were near Charity. Like her, the other woman’s arms were bound but not her hands.
As she neared Charity, Lilah’s nose picked up a whiff of urine. When she grimaced, Charity blushed and rushed to give an excuse. “They never came to untie me so I could relieve myself.”
It made Lilah question how long the girl had been there. “How many days have you been down here?”
Red-faced, Charity’s stiff shoulders softened at the question. “They’ve left me two days down here. You wouldn’t leave a dog any place for that long and not know it would need to potty!”
She gave that snort which Lilah was becoming familiar with and her mouth drooped into a frown. “It’s no wonder they laugh each time they bring me water. Yesterday, it was like a game to see how much water they could get me to drink.”
Lilah’s eyes rounded. “What did you do?”
Shrugging, Charity grinned impishly. “When I wasn’t thirsty anymore I took a large drink and spit it at the man. Hit him square in the eye!”
Gasping, Lilah stared at the other woman. She couldn’t imagine spitting, much less doing that at someone’s face.
Charity lowered her head so Lilah could now make out her features. At Lilah’s sudden intake of air, Charity nodded.
“Yep. The eye hurts a bunch. He slugged me after I spit the water.”
The eye was ringed by black and purple. By the growing stream of light, Lilah saw it no longer had any white but was bloodshot.
Charity’s dry chuckle accompanied sarcastic words. “We’re quite a pair. You with your scraped and bloody cheek. Me with my eye. Seems like our hosts are a bit short on manners.”
That surprised Lilah. She thought her cheek hurt because of the gag she’d worn. Like the skin had gone numb and now the feeling was rushing back into it. She remembered the boot grinding her face into the floor of the buggy. Had that harmed it or was it scraped during her fall to the cellar floor?
Lilah gave her head several short shakes, to clear it. What did it matter how her cheek had been hurt? They needed to get out of there.
“I wiggled closer to bring my shoe near your hand. Can you use your fingers or are they numb?”
In the dim light, she saw Charity wiggled them experimentally. “I’ve been moving them often so they don’t become numb. I think that and moving my arms against the rope has started to loosen it.”
Lilah nodded. “Good. There’s a small knife beneath a thick lining in my boot.”
Charity’s eyes rounded. “How did you think of doing that?”
This female detective must not have been with the Pinkertons for very long. “A detective I spoke with from your agency suggested it. Mr. Morrison.”
That name brought tears to Charity’s eyes. Lilah immediately apologized. “Oh dear! Was he the partner who let you down?”
Shaking her head vigorously, Charity sniffled. “No, he’s my uncle. He helped me get this job last month.”
The girl moaned. “I can’t even wipe my nose on my sleeve, and I can feel it running.”
Unable to stop it, Lilah shuddered at the thought of wiping her nose on a sleeve. She made a guess then. “Did your uncle raise you?”
A gasp of surprise escaped the other woman. “How did you know?”
With a tight-lipped smile, Lilah carefully answered that. “Oh, just a guess. Anyhow, he must be looking for you by now.”
Frowning, Charity spoke with fervor. “That’s why I have to find a way out of this myself. After his training, I should be able to handle this.”
Changing the subject, Lilah poked her booted foot at the woman. “Well, let’s try the knife. If I hold it, you could rub your ropes against it.”
Above, the creaking sound alerted them to the fact that someone had opened the two doors that
