Chapter Two

      Louisa stumbled, but only once. She righted herself, held her head high and walked out of Lewisham Asylum for the last time. They could threaten to poke out her eyes and hang her by the neck, but nothing would make her enter that vile place ever again.

      ‘Where to now?’ she asked, eyeing her saviour with a grin on her face.

      He looked down at her with concern. Louisa supposed she probably did look a little mad, dressed in the grey sack of the madhouse, squinting into the sun and grinning like a lunatic. She didn’t care. She was free.

      ‘My home, perhaps?’ Robert suggested.

      She pulled a face. ‘But there’s so much to do. Over a year of things to catch up on. I was thinking a stroll in the park.’

      She watched as he tried to hide the horror on his face. She grinned again and waited as it dawned on him that she was teasing.

      ‘Your home would be lovely,’ she said quietly.

      She’d always found it hard to be serious, her natural temperament was carefree and joyous. Even when her parents had died she’d tried to see the positive side to life. In the years she’d dodged her guardian’s unwanted advances she’d almost forgotten how to smile. Then he’d dumped her in the asylum and she’d vowed she would be true to herself, no matter what hardships followed.

      Gently Robert helped her up into his carriage. He followed her inside and banged on the roof, signalling for the driver to depart. Louisa watched as the facade of the asylum faded into the distance, then felt her body start to shake. She couldn’t believe she was actually out of that place. She was free. She didn’t know what life held for her now, but surely nothing could be worse than the eight long years with her guardian or the one in the madhouse.

      She couldn’t stop the shaking, she felt overwhelmed. She felt the tears start to pour from her eyes and run down her cheeks.

      ‘It’s all right,’ Robert said soothingly. ‘You’re safe now.’

      He moved from his position on the opposite side of the carriage to sit next to her. Gently he took her in his arms and held her. Louisa felt herself stiffen. She wasn’t used to human contact, at least not of the friendly kind. No one had hugged her since her parents had died. Slowly she allowed herself to relax into his arms, soothed by the soft sound of his voice.

      ‘You’re safe now,’ he repeated over and over again, and for a few moments Louisa allowed herself to believe it.

      She wondered what was driving this man. She’d had to trust him in the asylum, she’d have trusted anyone who’d given her the chance to escape, but now she was free she could always try to make her own way. She watched as the carriage slowed slightly and wondered if she would hurt herself too much if she jumped. Being alone in London was a scary thought, but at least she wouldn’t be locked in anywhere. For all she knew this man might be taking her somewhere worse than the asylum.

      It was possible, but the rational part of Louisa knew to dismiss the thought. She might not know his motivations, but Louisa’s instincts were that he was a good man. Maybe she would stick with him for a little while, just until she could make plans to be on her own.

      Self-consciously Louisa wiped the last few tears from her cheeks and sat upright. As she wriggled free from Robert’s arms she felt strangely bereft. She’d been on her own so long that just that little bit of human contact had been world changing.

      ‘So what’s the plan?’ Louisa asked. ‘Sell me into slavery? Banish me to work in a travelling fair?’

      He was too easy to poke fun at, that was the problem. Robert Fleetwood was a serious man, too serious for a man of his age. She wondered if he’d been in the war. He had a scar running down his left temple that looked as though it had been inflicted by a sword. She supposed it could have been from a duel, but he looked like a soldier. He had that upright bearing, serious mien and a haunted, faraway look in his eyes that suggested he’d left a bit of his soul on the battlefield.

      ‘You joke a lot,’ he said seriously.

      ‘I find when you’re incarcerated as a lunatic it helps if you can enjoy the funnier things in life. It does get rather dull otherwise.’

      Robert shook his head. ‘It’s not that,’ he said. ‘You use it as your protection.’

      Louisa felt stripped, naked. It was as though he’d looked inside her very being and found each and every one of her weaknesses. And he’d only known her for an hour.

      ‘I meant what I said back there, Louisa,’ he said seriously. ‘I’m not going to hurt you and I won’t let anyone else hurt you either.’

      She allowed herself to hope, to dream. It was everything she’d ever wished for during her darkest hours at the asylum. A protector, a rescuer, someone who actually cared about her, but Louisa knew it was too good to be true. Life wasn’t the stuff of fairy tales, she’d found that out long ago. She might have dreamed about a protector, someone to rescue her, but she’d known she wouldn’t ever rely on anyone but herself again. Other people could hurt her, let her down. Even a knight in shining armour was too good to be true. No, Louisa had promised herself she would only ever depend on herself again, no matter how tempting the dream of someone to look after her had been.

      ‘Why are you helping me?’ she asked. It hadn’t mattered before, but now she was free she needed to know.

      Robert sighed, a small crease appearing between his eyebrows as he frowned. Louisa wondered what he looked like when he laughed. Handsome, she supposed, not that he wasn’t handsome when he was serious, but a smile would change his face to make him irresistible to the ladies. Real ladies, not lunatic paupers like her.

      ‘Eight weeks ago Thomas Craven died,’ he said slowly.

      Louisa didn’t know how to react. The man who’d made her existence a misery, ruined her entire life, was dead. She felt a strange bubble of rage building inside her. It was as though she’d been robbed. She’d wanted to confront him, stand in front of him and tell him what an awful, wicked excuse for a guardian he was. Now she would never be able to.

      ‘As his closest living relative I inherited his estate.’

      Slowly realization dawned on Louisa. Robert hadn’t been lying when he’d said he was her guardian. She’d assumed it was a ruse to trick Symes into letting her go.

      ‘So you actually are my guardian?’

      He nodded. ‘The day before my great-uncle died he wrote a letter and sent it to me. In it he confessed to some awful wrongdoing on his part.’

      Louisa sat paralysed, unable to move. She felt stunned.

      ‘He gave me your name and asked me to put right the wrong he did you.’

      ‘Did he tell you what he did?’ she asked urgently. ‘Did he say he’d had me locked up when I was completely sane?’

      Robert shook his head. ‘I’m sorry.’

      Louisa felt the breath being sucked out of her. There was no proof, only her word, that she wasn’t insane. That was why Robert had studied her so intently back at the asylum. He was weighing her up, deciding whether to believe her at all.

      ‘So