Marcy thanked him as he left. She looked around the entryway and saw that she was alone. It had to be from Pandora. There was no one else who knew her. Well, there were several people she’d met at the ball in London, but none would have cared enough to send her a missive all the way out here.
She thought about tucking in into her pocket and reading it later. That was what she wanted to do. Unfortunately, another part of her had other ideas. Her hands trembled as she pulled the neatly folded parchment from the envelope. She had to know for sure it was from Pandora. She didn’t think she would be able to concentrate on the game if she didn’t know.
And you think you’ll be able to concentrate if you find out?
She wished her hands would obey her mind as it warned her to wait. But her hands seemed to act on their own accord. She unfolded the parchment and right away, she saw Pandora’s familiar script. You can run, but you can’t hide. The truth will always find you.
A bout of nausea welled up within her, and Marcy almost vomited. How did Pandora know she was here? It was one thing to be discovered in London. She’d been at a ball. There were lots of other people there that night. But this was an isolated place. In all the years Marcy had lived here, Pandora hadn’t found her. So how did she know she’d be visiting here today?
“Are you ready to return to the game?” Lewis called out from behind her.
She quickly shoved the letter back into the envelope then slipped it into her pocket. She turned to him, hoping he didn’t detect the flicker of panic behind her smile. “Yes, I’m ready.”
Realizing the lad had left the door open, she hurried to close it.
“What did the message say?” Lewis asked.
She turned back to him. “Message?”
“The one the footman told you about.”
“Oh, um, it wasn’t for me. The lad was looking for a Lady Druett.” She offered a shrug then laughed.
Though he didn’t seem convinced, he said, “I suppose those titles sound a lot alike.”
“Yes. That’s why he got us confused. It was a simple misunderstanding.”
“He came a long way over a misunderstanding.”
Her smile faltered. She should have known he would see right through the lie.
He went over to her and kissed her. “Well, stranger things have happened. Come on. I think we have a chance of winning this round. Then we can go horseback riding.”
She stared at him for a moment. Was he going to make it that easy for her? As he took her hand and led her back to the drawing room, she realized he was. Perhaps it never occurred to him that she might lie to him. Maybe he was that naïve. Maybe he assumed everyone told the truth all the time.
He’d never do anything horrible to someone else. If someone had killed his father, he wouldn’t have even thought about poisoning the person who’d done it. He might not have even figured out his father had been killed. The terrible things people did to others didn’t even cross his mind. How she wished she could have maintained that kind of innocence. But she hadn’t. Instead of simply escaping from her father’s estate that night, she’d poisoned her step-mother first. And she had a sinking sensation that no matter what she did at this point, she was doomed. As Pandora had written, there was nowhere she could hide. Sooner or later, the day of reckoning was going to happen.
***
Marcy… Marcy… Marcy…
Marcy stirred in her sleep. She couldn’t tell if the voice was coming from her dreams or if it was coming from the real world. But her body was heavy, and the dream world kept pulling her into it, so she kept her eyes closed.
In her dreams, she saw snippets from her past. There was an evening her mother read her a bedtime story. There was the first ball she’d attended where her father proudly introduced her to others. There was her mother’s illness, followed by her funeral. There was the wedding day when her father remarried. From the beginning, she and Pandora didn’t get along. They tolerated each other at best. They only spoke to each other if they had to, and thankfully, that wasn’t often.
Fortunately, Pandora was of marriageable age, and Marcy’s father brought over gentlemen who were looking for a wife. Marcy was glad. It meant Pandora would soon be gone. Marcy watched as her father and step-mother fussed over her, doing everything possible to make sure Pandora looked her best and coached her on how to behave around gentlemen so she could get the best husband.
Then came Pandora’s betrothal to the Duke of Philton, and shortly after that, Marcy’s father died. And then, Marcy found his will lying on her step-mother’s desk. And then there was the hemlock and the decanter and—
Marcy bolted up in the bed, her heart pounding. It took her a moment to realize she wasn’t in the servants’ quarters. She’d been so used to having these nightmares while she was a maid that her first thought was that she should light the candle next to her small bed in order to ward off the shadows.
But then she remembered she wasn’t in this manor as a maid anymore. She was a guest. She was Lewis’ wife. Because of that, she was in a large bedchamber reserved for guests. She took a deep breath and released it. Would she ever be freed from her past? Or would it always haunt her?
How can you be free from it when Pandora is out there watching you?
A tear slid down her cheek, and she hurried to brush it away. Maybe she should confront Pandora. Maybe she should ask her what she wanted of her.
But what can I give her? I have no money. I have nothing to offer except my own life.
As soon as Marcy realized her hands were shaking, she clasped them together.
Maybe that’s what she wants. An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. A life for a life.
Marcy swallowed the lump in her throat. If only she could go back and do things differently… If only she could undo the damage she’d caused…
She hadn’t been there when the servants found her step-mother’s corpse. She’d been long gone by then, but she could imagine what her step-mother had looked like. She recalled the way her father had looked the morning after he died. Her father had prevented her from seeing her mother, but no one had stopped her from looking at her father as he lay in the bed with the frightening bluish tint to his skin. Her step-mother would have had the same ungodly color in her skin. And who knew if she’d died with her eyes open or shut. Her father’s had been open until the butler closed them.
Her stomach tightened, and she thought she might lose her dinner. She got out of bed and hurried to the washbasin, but the swell of nausea went away. She’d been through this before. She’d felt like this for about a year after she’d come to work as a maid in this manor. There were some nights when she actually threw up. The burden of sin was a heavy one to bear, especially when it was as serious as taking someone’s life.
I should have known I couldn’t leave the past behind. I should have known I’d have to deal with it at some point.
She wiped the tears from her eyes then glanced back at the bed to make sure Lewis was still asleep. Good. He was. She went to the small room off to the side of the bedchamber, closed the door, and opened the window to let the cool night air in. She leaned against the windowsill. The air helped sooth her stomach. She wished it would do the same to her conscience.
Happiness is so fleeting. It never lasts.
She could burn every single missive her sister sent, but the sting of conscience would always be there, lingering just below the surface. She didn’t know what to do. Should she tell someone? Should she keep hiding it for as long as possible? Surely, Pandora wouldn’t keep her distance forever.
She looked down at the ground. For a moment, a very brief moment, she considered jumping out the window. Just jump out. Then, finally, all of this would be over. She’d give Pandora the justice due to her, and she wouldn’t have to live under the weight of her sin anymore.
No. She couldn’t do it. She loved Lewis too much. And he loved her. She couldn’t hurt him by jumping out the window. She had to stay alive for him. He gav
e up so much to be with her.
This time she didn’t brush away the tears when they came. This time, she let them fall down her cheeks. She didn’t deserve him. She loved him with all of her heart, but she didn’t deserve him. Had she unwittingly hurt him by marrying him? Should she have been stronger and let him marry someone who did deserve him?
I’m selfish. That’s been my problem this entire time. I’ve only thought of myself and what I wanted.
It was why she’d added the hemlock to her step-mother’s decanter, it was why she put on the mask to dance with Lewis at the ball, and it was why she married him. If she’d been unselfish, she would have done everything differently.
So what now? What was the best way to proceed from here? What could she possibly do now that she was cornered? How could she change things around?
You can’t change things around. No matter how hard you try, you’ll always have your step-mother’s blood on your hands. And there’s nothing you can do about it.
Chapter Sixteen
The next afternoon, Marcy went for a walk by herself. Lewis offered to go with her, but she said she wanted to be alone. After she left, he joined Stephen and Patricia who were in the drawing room with Susanna. At the moment, Stephen was reading a book to them while Patricia was helping Susanna sit.
Patricia glanced up at him in surprise. “I thought you were going to take a walk with Marcy.”
Stephen stopped reading, so Lewis answered, “I was, but she wanted to have some time to herself.”
Lewis picked up the decanter and poured himself a glass of port wine. After he put the top back on the decanter, he picked up his glass and sat in a nearby chair. From the window, he could see Marcy heading for the gazebo.
He took a sip of his wine, and since Stephen hadn’t gone back to reading, he decided to ask the question that was weighing on his mind. “Have you two noticed that Marcy seems different?”
“Well, she’s no longer a maid,” Stephen replied. “Of course, she’s different.”
Lewis shot his friend a pointed look. “I don’t mean different like that. I mean she seems more quiet than usual. She’s not as energetic as usual, either.” He shrugged. “I can’t explain it, but I get the feeling that something is on her mind. When I ask her about it, she tells me nothing is wrong.”
“That’s what ladies do,” Stephen said. “They never say what is bothering them. You’re expected to ask them what’s wrong until they finally let you know.”
Patricia gasped. “Ladies aren’t like that.”
“You’re the exception,” Stephen said. “I assure you that most ladies want gentlemen to draw the truth out of them.” Before she could protest, he shook his head. “I used to live in London. Not only do I have a sister, but I was around enough ladies to know there is a silly ‘guess what’s bothering me’ game’ they play.” He turned his attention to Lewis. “You need to keep asking Marcy about it. If you don’t, she’ll get upset with you for not caring enough to find out what’s wrong.”
“Don’t mind him, Lewis,” Patricia argued. “Marcy’s not like that.” Patricia stopped Susanna before the girl fell forward. She helped Susanna sit straight up again then added, “I noticed that Marcy’s acting differently, too. She also doesn’t seem to have much of an appetite, and she looks as if she hasn’t gotten much sleep lately. I think she might be expecting.”
When she didn’t say more, Lewis prompted, “Expecting what?”
Patricia laughed. “A child. I think she’s expecting a child.”
Lewis felt a wave of panic sweep over him. A child? Already? Sure, he knew it was possible. He wasn’t so daft that he didn’t know how children were made, but he thought it was going to take a year or so before he started having them.
Stephen set the book down and got up. “I’ll summon the maid to bring the smelling salts.”
“Oh, that’s silly,” Patricia said. “You don’t need to do that. Lewis is fine.”
“He’s not fine.” Stephen gestured to him. “He’s pale.”
“He’s always pale.”
“But he’s even more pale than usual.”
Patricia chuckled. “Oh, he is not. He’s never had a lot of color in his cheeks. He’ll be fine. He just needs to get used to the idea of being a father, that’s all.”
Lewis would have dropped his glass of wine if Stephen hadn’t caught it in time. A child? Was he ready to have a child? He knew he needed one because of his title, but still… Shouldn’t it have taken Marcy longer to conceive?
Stephen put the glass on the nearest table then went to summon the maid by pulling a cord on the wall.
Patricia let out an exasperated sigh. “A child is a wonderful thing. Besides, this is why he got married. The whole purpose of the union was to have children.”
“I think it was more of a theoretical idea than one based in reality,” Stephen told her. “Think about it. If it wasn’t for us, he wouldn’t have even gotten married. He’s not prepared to handle any of this. Marcy should have had enough sense to give him at least six months before doing this to him.”
Patricia rolled her eyes. “Marcy didn’t conceive the child all by herself. She had his help. You should have given Lewis something to stop this from happening if you were so certain he couldn’t handle a baby right away.”
“I don’t pry into Lewis’ personal life. For all I know, he’d been with other ladies.”
“You really believe that?”
Stephen gave him a good look then said, “No, I don’t. But why was it my responsibility to hand him a love letter? I thought he wanted to get children as soon as possible.”
“A love letter?” Patricia asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“It’s a sheath a gentleman uses to prevent getting a lady with child.”
“Oh.”
The maid came into the room, so Stephen requested she bring smelling salts.
After the maid left, Lewis finally found his voice. “That isn’t necessary. I’m not going to faint.”
“I don’t know,” Stephen said as he studied him. “You look as if you have no idea how children are conceived.”
“I know how they’re conceived,” Lewis replied. “I’m not that naïve. I just…” He glanced at his niece who was smiling as Patricia continued to hold her. “Babies are scary.”
Stephen laughed. “They aren’t scary. They’re too small to be scary.” He gestured to Susanna. “What do you think she can do to you? If anyone should be scared of someone, she should be scared of you. You’re a lot bigger than she is.”
Lewis shook his head. Stephen didn’t understand. He never understood. Yes, babies were smaller, but they were confusing. At any time, they could cry. Sometimes there wasn’t even a warning. Plus, they were so delicate. He recalled how Susanna couldn’t even hold up her own head after she was born. Stephen went into this whole spiel about how Lewis had to be careful in how he held her so that her head wouldn’t flop around. It seemed to be very important that such a thing wouldn’t happen or else he risked doing substantial harm to the girl. Then there was the fact that they could pee or poop anywhere without warning. Granted, Susanna could now hold her head up, but she still needed constant diapering. What Lewis didn’t understand was how more people weren’t afraid of babies.
The maid returned with the smelling salts. Stephen took the bottle and uncapped it.
“Oh for goodness’ sake,” Lewis said. “I’m fine. I’m not going to faint.”
Unfortunately, even the maid didn’t seem convinced. Well, maybe he ought to prove it.
He rose up from the chair and gave everyone a pointed look. “See? I’m fine.”
Susanna let out a shrill cry, and all at once, the world around Lewis started to spin, and the next thing he knew, everything went black.
***
“Lady Pruett,” someone spoke.
Someone tapped Marcy’s arm.
“Lady Pruett? Are you all right?”
Marcy opened her eyes. She had
n’t realized she’d fallen asleep on the bench in the gazebo. She’d grown tired and had decided to rest her eyes, but she wasn’t supposed to fall asleep. She turned her gaze to the person who’d woken her up and saw that it was Julian.
“Oh, Vicar.” She sat up and wiped the sleep from her eyes. “Forgive me. I didn’t hear you approach.”
He offered her a reassuring smile. “To be fair, I wasn’t making a lot of noise.” He sat next to her. “You look like you’re upset about something.”
“Do I?”
“Well, your eyes are red, and your cheeks are splotchy. It doesn’t take much to figure out you’ve been crying.”
She touched her cheeks, which were now dry. He was right. She had been crying. As soon as she was away from everyone, the walls of her carefully controlled exterior had come crashing down, and she hadn’t been able to stop the tears. This was so embarrassing. She hadn’t expected anyone to find her like this.
“I don’t make it a habit of prying into people’s lives,” Julian began, “but I am in the business of helping people when they need it. Is there something I can do to help you?”
She didn’t think she had any more tears to cry after she’d broken down earlier, but she felt more of them fill her eyes. She retrieved her worn handkerchief and got ready to dab them away, but he handed her a fresh one from his pocket. Thanking him, she accepted it and wiped her eyes.
“Of course, it’s none of my business,” he continued. “If you want me to go, just say so.”
She waited until she could trust herself to speak clearly before asking, “How many people tell you their problems?”
“A lot. There’s a lot of pain in this world, and most people feel like no one around them can understand what they’re going through. I think it helps when they can confide in someone who represents God. Sometimes what people need most is a touch from above since only God can truly understand the depth of the sorrow we experience.”
She glanced at the manor. They were alone. No one was coming out to them. Perhaps now would be a good time to seek godly counsel. She certainly wasn’t capable of handling the weight of her sin alone, and she couldn’t tell anyone else about it.
One Enchanted Evening (Marriage by Fairytale Book 2) Page 14