The chain was several feet long to allow him to do his chores, but it got stuck every two minutes, forcing him to retrace his steps.
As he scrubbed the dirty plates and mugs left by the others, his mind conjured up the clear blue eyes of the young woman. Her name was…no, he didn’t remember. Or she hadn’t told him.
Hell, she wasn’t real. His mind wasn’t trustworthy. With all the weird potions Murdock gave him, his brain had to be like gelatine.
Murdock’s laughter echoed from the other side of the canvas wall. Of course, the swine was happy. He must have earned heaps of pounds today.
The chatter and laughter of the workers came as they headed to their caravans to rest before another performance.
He looked forward to leaving London. The days spent travelling from one city to the next were more bearable than the performances. At least he didn’t have to see the faces of those people who laughed at him or stared at him in horror.
The chain clinked when he went to scrub the benches. He gnashed his teeth as his muscles burned. Complaining or asking for a potion to numb the pain would only grant him another beating from Cade. Besides, Murdock had to be in his caravan by now, ready to go to bed. If Lion Boy disturbed him, he would starve him again.
When he finished with the dishes, he knelt to sweep the floor from the mess of leftover food.
A noise like a rustle came from the other side of the canvas wall closest to him. He paused and listened. Nothing.
Sometimes thieves crept inside, searching for money. Good luck. There was nothing Murdock protected more fiercely than money. He was also a crack shot, and Cade was a fierce fighter.
A thief wouldn’t realise what had hit him. Not to mention Murdock’s knowledge of drugs, potions, and medicinal herbs. He knew how to poison someone.
Another noise made Lion Boy stop again. It could be a rat trying to sneak inside the tent. Except the noise grew in intensity. Whatever was crawling towards him was bigger than a rat. A whiff of kerosene hit his nose.
He walked towards the source of the noise. Soft voices reached his ears. He lifted the flap and froze.
A woman’s face appeared. Not just any woman, but the raven-haired young beauty he’d seen during the last performance. The smell of kerosene wafted from her.
She was half-crouched, her head tilted back to stare up at him. He hadn’t hallucinated. She was real, blue eyes and all. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Relieved, confused, with his foggy memory, worried perhaps. If he’d done something to her, hurt her, he would never forgive himself.
Her large sapphire eyes widened. For a moment, they only stared at each other with equal shock and surprise.
Then she straightened, brushing dirt from her coat. “It’s me. Vivienne,” she whispered. A hood partially hid her features but didn’t hide her princess-like looks. Judging by her fine clothes and perfect speech, she had to be wealthy.
“I promised I would help.” She looked down and covered her gasp with a hand when she noticed the chain. “He chained you!”
He nodded, failing to understand her shock. Perhaps the drugs numbed his feelings as well.
“What?” An older woman with flaming red hair stuck her head inside. She gave him a quick, assessing glance. Her mouth hung open. “Good Lord.”
“I told you he needed help, Dobkins.”
Dobkins was breathing hard. “Why are you chained?”
“He doesn’t talk. He can’t answer.” Vivienne faced him. “Can you write down your name?”
Writing?He shook his head. Besides, the whole situation was so bizarre he wouldn’t be able to write anything, even if he’d known how.
“You can’t write?” Dobkins seemed more shocked by that piece of information than by the chain or his wild looks.
“Bother.” Vivienne put her hands on her hips. “How can we communicate? We must think of something.”
“You must be joking. We don’t have time.” Dobkins tugged at Vivienne’s hand. “We should leave.”
Vivienne didn’t budge. “They force you to stay here, don’t they?”
He nodded.
“You aren’t happy.”
