Whispers of Bedlam Asylum (Sigmund Shaw Book 2) by Mark C. King Read Free Book Online

dress was sticking to her skin. Her body started to shiver involuntarily and she wondered how long she could continue before the cold became overwhelming. A sense of panic began to rise as she kept dancing but still had not received the attention she wanted. Could her endeavor be over so quickly? She had not prepared a second course of action, for how could dancing in the freezing cold with strangers fail to be considered insane?
     
    Still, Charlotte danced. Her eyes roved around for yet another partner and was filled with hope as she glanced the dark mustache man, her first dance partner, come out of the train entrance with a constable at his side. Hope turned to confidence as the man pointed towards her and the constable started walking her way. The plan was working! But now was the crucial part, convincing the authorities to take her to Bedlam.
     
    When the constable broke through the small crowd that had gathered around her, Charlotte immediately stopped dancing and curtsied to him. His bowl shaped constable’s helmet was covered in beaded dampness and his heavy coat was dark with moisture, making his brass buttons appear all the more bright. With head bowed, she said, “Your Lordship. How pleasant it is to see you.”
     
    Whatever the constable had anticipated, he was certainly not expecting this kind of greeting. His blue eyes narrowed in confusion as he scratched the red hair of his right sideburn. Quickly collecting himself, he asked, “Miss, why are you dancing?”
     
    She looked up and put her hand in front of her mouth and giggled. “When one is at a ball and the music is playing so enchantingly, why, you simply must dance.”
     
    “Music?” the constable repeated unbelievably. “There is no music. And this certainly is not a ball.”
     
    “You are too funny, your Lordship. Perhaps you are shy and this is your way of asking a lady to dance. I would be honored… If you would only ask.”
     
    “Miss, I would like you to come with me inside. It is very cold and you look as if you haven’t had any warmth for quite a spell.”
     
    Charlotte looked at the man with a bit of a sideways glance. She was feigning hesitancy and was trying to show a slight chink in her fanciful armor.
     
    The constable – a fellow ginger , she thought – clearly a man of some intelligence and empathy, offered his arm like a true gentleman and said, “Miss, if you would be so kind to accompany me, perhaps we could find some refreshments.”
     
    She took a slow step towards him and allowed the briefest hint of a smile. The cold was brutal, especially now that she had stopped moving, and she wished she could run inside and feel the warmth. Fighting these urges, she manage to keep calm – ruining what she had accomplished would be an awful turn at this point. Taking another small step, she slowly reached out her shivering hand towards the constable’s.
     
    “That’s right, Miss,” coaxed the constable, “come along with me. All this dancing surely has made you thirsty.”
     
    Taking his arm and giving a full smile, she said, “You are too kind, your Lordship.”
     
    As the constable led her through the staring crowd and toward the stone stairs, she wondered if he would put shackles on her. Happily, she found that he simply led her up the stairs and inside Waterloo station. He headed them away from the passenger area and to an office along the side of the massive building. The warmth that came from being out of the weather was exhilarating but also made her feel a bit tired. Once in the office, a bare space with a desk, a filing cabinet and four wooden chairs, the constable invited her to sit. Charlotte looked around briefly and then took the offered chair.
     
    “Please excuse my departure for one moment, Miss. I will gather us some tea.” With that, the constable left and locked the door behind him.
     
    Clenching and unclenching her hands, Charlotte tried to gather feeling into them. She was still shivering from