A Girl Who Can Dream

Chapter the Eleventh

We found ourselves in front of the Scotland Yard building at 4 Whitehall Place. The large building looked like any of the ordinary homes in London, though it had a sign stating its business there. It was built of red and white bricks and had a neatly manicured, but tiny, front lawn.

I ignored the entire thing as I walked in, Grayson close behind me. As I hadn't had any money since being transported from Devonshire, I was reliant on him to pay for the cabs and the train ride home. I was still in my scandalous dress with its rips and skin-showing, drawing many odd looks from the passerby.

As we entered the building, a tall man in a black constable uniform greeted us. His dark hair had more than a few flecks of gray in it, most of which was populated on his long black-and-gray beard. He could've been an intimidating man, but his smile of greeting made him seem amiable. "Welcome to Scotland Yard. Please, come into my office."

We were ushered into a little closed off space. The golden lettering on the glass door read "Inspector Bennett." The inside of the office was cozy. A long mahogany work table took up most of the space, leaving barely enough room for a small couch on one end and a chair for the inspector to sit.

"Pray, sit down and we shall get to speaking about your case." Inspector Bennett said, squeezing through the gap in between the desk and the clouded glass wall. He sat unceremoniously on the wooden chair and looked at each of us. "Now, let's hear it."

I looked at Grayson and he stared back, giving me the permission to talk about my problems to this man. I took a deep breath, hoping this man will make everything quick. If Father receives poor Emma and Johnny, he'll kick them out, tell them that they had no sense in coming to a duke for help in such a trifling matter. He wouldn't understand that those children's lives depended upon his support for them.

"Sir, let me start with all I know. It is a short story, and I don't know what you can make of it other than that the man I am about to accuse deserves a sentence in prison." I started. Inspector Bennett made a "go on" gesture with his hand and I continued. "It started, I believe, two days ago. After the famed Ball of the Lords was hosted in my home. That night, I'd gotten the sense that something was amiss, though no one listened to a woman's instinct. They said that I would be safe in my chamber, and how very wrong they were. That night, I was kidnapped from my room. I remember seeing a face in the middle of the night, though the memory is blurry.

I woke up the next day in a room very unfamiliar to me. It was damp, and made crudely. The only way out besides a locked wooden door was a hole in the wall that was meant to serve as a window. It was small, only slightly larger than my head but able to fit my hips and shoulders through if squeezed. I didn't know where I was and I was worried for my safety.

Staring out the 'window,' I realized that I must be in London with the amount of people and cabs on the road. I've been to many other cities, but, by far, this is the most bustling. This confused me further as I was from the moorland, and a train ride is required to get to London. Everything was unfamiliar to me and I was delivered breakfast by a servant girl I didn't recognize in the least.

That was when this young man found me. He'd been with me the night before and had seen the suspicions I had over a certain baronet that we'd met, by the name of Sir Victor Baskerville. With this, he tracked the man down and found me through the help of the servant girl assigned to help me. It was all pure luck, though I was more than happy for the visit.

He informed me of my position. At this point, I hadn't been aware of the baronet's motives, and neither was he, so we were extremely worried for my safety. Before long, the man had arrived back home and I was left alone once more.

That was when Sir Victor visited me, telling me of his plans. He had claimed, to my father, that I'd run away from my home to live and marry him. My father, believing this, was helping to arrange a marriage between us. I was disgusted, of course, and I showed it.

Later, I spoke with the servant girl who attended to me and realized that the man that I was now betrothed to tortured children for doing the right thing. I couldn't stand this and, a day later, after getting a death threat from this terrible baronet, I escaped through this second-story window, earning these scrapes."

I'd left many parts out of my narrative, and I felt Grayson's questioning stare, but I knew that it was for the best. There was no point in the inspector knowing everything that went on between me and him. That was our business.

Inspector Bennett had a thoughtful expression, his eyes closed. Finally, when he opened them, he nodded to me. "I have heard your story, miss, but I still have no idea who you are."

I had to admit, I was surprised. Back in Devonshire, I was a widely known figure. Anyone in my moorland county could easily tell who I was. But here in London, people don't care for Devonshire's nobility. "I am the heiress to the Duke of Devonshire, Lady Cecelia Cavendish of Garner Hall."

"Ah," Bennett' eyes twinkled with mischief. "An eligible bachelorette, I've heard, if it weren't for your rebelliousness. I've heard that the Prince of Wales was interested in you." I highly doubted it. I'd heard of the Prince of Wales' marriage a few months back. Father had gone, but I'd been too sick to travel. The bride was a Spanish beauty, full of tropical blood from the Mexican coastline. She was regal, many said, and angelic with her lovely features which could never match my meager, British beauty.

"And you, sir?" The inspector's gaze was on Grayson now. He too seemed mildly shocked that this man had no idea who he was. I kept in a laugh, knowing that I would remember his expression for life.

"Lord Grayson Leslie Davenport, only son and heir to the Marquess and Marchioness of Cheshire." Grayson said, his chest puffing up with pride at his parents' titles. "And the fiancé of this dear lady."

I was surprised at his use of the word. We'd never agreed on its usage, though our agreement on marriage was like a betrothal in itself. Still, the word made something in me shift and worry crawled into my stomach.

Inspector Bennett looked at me with curiosity. He eyed the simple ring on my finger and nodded to himself. "You had the ring when you were... kidnapped?" He asked, the meaning behind his words clear.

I nodded, confirming, though I didn't let him know that the ring had held a different meaning up until only a few hours ago. Sir Victor would've thought the same thing as the inspector, that my hand had already been promised to someone else in marriage. Yet he'd still kidnapped me, meaning he didn't care for such formalities.

The inspector's gaze was hesitant as he approached the next topic of discussion. "Miss, I know for a fact that you shall deny this, but as public safety and rule enforcers, it is our job to look through all the different angles in a case. Please don't take this the wrong way, but are you one hundred percent sure that you hadn't run to Sir Victor? What evidence do you have?"

Grayson didn't even give me the time to answer, jumping to respond. "Sir, I can confirm all the events that Cecelia has just stated. Including the torture of the child. I can bring in, at least, two more people to testify that my words, and Cecelia's words, are true."

"Alright then. I don't need any of these confirmations to arrest this Sir Victor Baskerville immediately. The field agents are out right now on a chase of some sort, but they'll be back before long and will head immediately to this man's home." Inspector Bennett smiled, getting up. "As for the inquest, it shall most likely happen at a later time as the court is full of other burglaries and thefts at the moment. I will try to schedule something as early as possible, miss, but I cannot promise anything."

We got up as well. It was good that the interview hadn't lasted too long, as we had a two o' clock train to catch, if we wanted to get to Garner Hall as soon as possible. "Inspector, you may contact me through the post office in Ashburton, the closest town to our manor. And, Grayson is contactable through the post office in Tarporley. Wires are able means of communication, though letters are more than welcome as well, should you need a word with us."

"Of course, miss." The inspector bowed and watched us walk out the door.