The Flower Seller ( WAYHAUGHT)

Chapter 16

Lord Blackwood's carriage arrived a little before nine that evening to take Nicole from her Mayfair residence to Bayswater. It was but a short journey skirting the edge of Hyde Park, Nicole beginning to feel an uneasiness at the location being so near to her home. "What should I expect?" she enquired, as the carriage door opened.

Blackwood smirked. "A surprise. All will be revealed. Come."

Nicole accepted his hand as she descended the carriage steps, walking with Blackwood towards what appeared to be an uninhabited residence. Blackwood tapped on the door with the top of his cane, waiting for it to open. When it did, there before her stood a figure, their portly body hidden by a black robe, the hood raised, a leather mask concealing their entire face. Nicole remained rooted to the spot, no longer sure this was a good idea, if it ever had been. "I can come back another evening," she said meekly.

Blackwood wrapped his fingers round her upper arm. "Come, come, this is what you want isn't it. To see for yourself."

"I've changed my mind. Suddenly, I am feeling rather tired."

"I have just the spot where you may lie down," Blackwood offered, his grip tightening on her arm to the point of hurting. "Inside. Now."

Nicole had no choice but to go with him, his bony fingers digging into her. Once inside it became clear things were most definitely not as they seemed. Instead of entering the hallway of a residence, she was confronted with a narrow, dimly-lit corridor leading to the back of whatever this was. Not a house, rather it was a façade, a deception, the rumbling of trains beneath her feet confusing at first, following the robed person as they marched ahead. At the far end of the corridor was another door which led to a raised walkway alongside a large opening between houses on either side, the thunderous roar of a train deafening as it emerged, steam billowing out.

She almost made a run for it, almost, except she didn't know in which direction, the walkway too narrow to get past the person in front, or Blackwood who followed. Another carriage awaited, a groom cracking the whip as they set off at high speed. She tried to work out where they were going, the blinds of the carriage lowered to obscure the view. It was no use, the carriage was moving too fast for her to get any sense of where they might be heading. It eventually came to a halt, Blackwood grabbing her hand, pulling her across the gravel driveway towards a mansion, the robed figure waddling behind. There was nowhere to run, not that she could run in her heavy velvet dress and dainty shoes. Oh, to be dressed as Archie, she thought, with my trusted knife at the ready. To have a chance to fight my way out of this.

They skirted the perimeter of the grand house, heading towards what appeared to be a family mausoleum in the grounds, torches either side of the entrance casting their flickering light over the path as they approached. Blackwood flung open the door, dragging her inside, slamming it shut once their companion had caught up. She saw Blackwood slide the heavy bolt across sealing them in. There's no escape, she thought, no way out other than through that door. A set of stone steps led to a lower chamber. More torches, more doors, Nicole could hear chanting coming from the other side, her breathing so fast it hurt.

Another rap on the door by Blackwood's cane revealed the first shock of the evening. A marble altar in the centre of a circular space held a woman, tied by her hands and feet. Nicole let out a gasp when she realised who it was. "Nicole! Help, please."

Her whole body shook as she took in the sight. At least ten members of this sick society stood around the edge, lurking in the shadows between chiselled marble pillars, all wearing the black robe, the mask, and the sash. The woman yanked at the chords binding her, terrified eyes locked onto her face. "Nicole, for God's sake tell them to release me."