The Orphan of Cemetery Hill - Hester Fox Page 0,102

over her. He cleared his throat, looking as dazed as Tabby felt. “Mary-Ruth visited me, told me everything. I hope that you’re not hurt from your ordeal?”

Tabby shook her head. “Just a little tired. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m glad,” he said.

Why were her feet suddenly made out of lead? He was standing right up against the bars, his hands clasped tight around them. The warden was chatting with an officer a little way away, and the moment was as private as they were like to have, so why couldn’t she go to him? And why wasn’t he saying anything more than the barest pleasantries?

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said bluntly. “You did nothing wrong.” What little faith she’d had in the police and the rule of law was further shaken every time she saw Caleb sitting in his cell. “They’ve arrested Mr. Whitby and his accomplices. They must know you’re innocent.”

“Innocent of murder, perhaps, but I am still an escaped convict. I made the police look incompetent.” He gave her his old roguish smile. “I doubt that they’re eager to see me on the streets again.”

The straw rustled as a rat scurried across the cell, and Tabby took a deep breath, willing herself to be patient. “Surely your mother can speak on your behalf to the court?”

He shrugged.

“But Caleb,” she said, her voice rising, “you must at least try!”

He looked away, watching as the rat gnawed on something in the corner. “Has it occurred to you that perhaps I am right where I belong? That I deserve to be here?”

“What are you talking about?”

He gave a heavy sigh and kicked at some straw. “Do you know what gave me the will to survive my exile?”

She shook her head.

Exasperation edged his voice. “You, Tabby. The thought of you happy and in my arms.”

“Then let me petition the court,” she begged. “Let your mother rally her wealthy friends. There’s no need to sit here a moment longer. You have no shortage of resources to—”

“Tabby,” he said quietly.

“You could bribe the police!” she continued, heedless of his protest.

“Tabby.”

She finally stopped.

“Listen to me. There’s something else I need to tell you. Something I did, that, ah, I am not proud of. If you knew, then you would understand why I deserve my sentence.”

She frowned. “I know that you have a certain...colorful history,” she said diplomatically.

“It’s not that,” he said. “I know I was a bit of a cad. I kissed you when I was engaged, I left you alone when you were most vulnerable. And...”

She did not like where this was going. “Go on.”

“The thing is...” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I may have told Billy—that is, Sergeant Hodsdon—about your...your ability. I may have leveraged it to help me escape.”

She could see sweat gathering at his temples despite the damp prison air. She waited for him to finish.

“I think... I think it was my fault that they found out about you and that you landed in Whitby’s hands.”

So Officer Hodsdon had found out about her from Caleb, not the séance. Tabby didn’t say anything, didn’t move a muscle. Not only had he not believed her when she’d told him, he betrayed her trust. How high her heart had soared, and now how quickly it plummeted.

“Please, say something,” he pleaded.

“What would you have me say?” She struggled to retain her composure, but her voice rose, her face growing hot. “You broke my trust, you sealed my fate by offering me up right to Mr. Whitby. I lost all hope. Do you know how close I was to taking my—” She cut herself short, biting down on her tongue and swiftly looking away.

Caleb took a step closer, but was stopped by the bars. His face was deadly serious. “How close you were to what, Tabby?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled, crossing her arms. “It doesn’t matter.”

He reached out a hand as if he would touch her, but then dropped it again with a heavy sigh. “It does matter, Tabby. You matter. What I did was terrible, unforgivable. I know that. If you can’t forgive me, I understand. But please know that what I did was out of my own miserable nature, and was not a reflection of you. You are a hundred times the person I could ever be, strong and loyal and loving. I—”

“Stop,” she said, cutting his pitiful speech short. “I don’t want to hear it anymore.”

She called for the warden. Her eyes stung with tears as she hurried away, heedless of Caleb calling after