A Midnight Clear

by Lynn Kerstan

  She didn’t want to hear it. For three days and nights she had lived in a dream world of her own, imagining and hoping and praying. But she had realized, the moment she saw his face, that what she longed for could never be.

  There was no use delaying the inevitable, though, and bad news never got better for putting it off. Murmuring a prayer for strength, she picked up the tray and returned to the parlor.

  Fallon gave her a faint smile as she handed him a cup of coffee. “Will you sit close by, Jane? This is going to be a long story, I’m afraid, as confusing to hear as it is difficult to tell. I cannot think where to begin.”

  “With Richard Barrow, if you will.” She dropped a thick cushion near the hearth and sat cross-legged, hands clenched in her lap. “What sort of man is he?”

  “As Jed would say, a good ’un. Not much older than twenty, I would guess, average height, plain in appearance. When I arrived, the Virga was near to getting under way, but the captain gave me leave to take Barrow from his duties for a short while. We found a quiet place at the end of the wharf and spoke for perhaps twenty minutes.” Fallon laced brandy into his coffee. “Under the circumstances, he could give me only an abbreviated version of events, and I neglected to ask many questions that came to mind after his departure. Unfortunately, the Virga is bound for New South Wales, so it will be a long time before I get the answers.”

  Jane could not wait for the one answer she had to have immediately. “Did he tell you about Nan’s parents? Are they alive?”

  “Her mother is dead,” he replied in a suffocated tone. “Barrow never learned the father’s identity. She is, for all purposes, an orphan.”

  Burningly aware of a profound and shameful sense of relief, she looked over at the basket where Nan lay sleeping. Only the top of her knitted cap was visible, but Jane imagined she could see the sweet little face and mischievous eyes. “Do continue, my lord. I’ll not interrupt you again.”

  “Do so if you wish, but meanwhile I’ll give you the story as Barrow gave it me. He had six weeks of leave and was on his way to Sheffield when he came upon a pony cart that had lost a wheel. The driver was a young woman, painfully thin and obviously quite ill. She had with her a shabby traveling bag, a goat, and an infant. Barrow fixed the wheel and insisted on driving her to the nearest town with a physician in residence.

  “With that act of kindness, his odyssey began. The lad never did get home to see his family.” Fallon took a drink of coffee. “At length, they found a doctor, although he could do little for the young woman but make her comfortable. It had been a difficult childbirth, he guessed, from which she never fully recovered. With care, she would surely have done so, but she had evidently been traveling for a long time. Exhaustion, winter cold, and insufficient food had weakened her past all hope. Three days later, she was dead.”

  “Dear Lord,” Jane murmured. “Where was her home? Where were her family?”

  “Although fevered and sometimes delirious, she told Barrow something of what had occurred. Her name was Margaret, by the way. I’m afraid parts of her story will be familiar to you, for she, too, was the daughter of a careless aristocrat and one of his servants. But unlike your father, he cast off his mistress and daughter without a penny. Barrow never learned what happened in the years after that, except that Margaret took a position as a kitchen maid in Coventry after her mother died.”

  Jane could well imagine what she had endured all those missing years. But unlike Margaret, she had been provided an education and a secure childhood. There were troubles enough later on, but in comparison, her own life had been a virtual picnic.

  Fallon took up the story again. “An infantry regiment was training recruits near to Coventry, and Margaret fell in love with one of the young soldiers. She was very specific about that, Barrow said. She loved him, and he’d promised to marry her as soon as his father and the commanding officer gave permission. But when she told him they were to have a child, he said marriage was out of the question. Soon after, he was dispatched to the Peninsula and never contacted her again. Since Margaret refused to give his name, I doubt Nan will ever know her father’s identity.”

  “She’s well rid of him!” Jane declared. “What use is a father who rejects his own child before she’s even born?”

  “I rather hope he’ll be used as cannon fodder,” Fallon said. “Maybe the French will do England a service for once and purge this wastrel from the ranks. As for Margaret, she went off to beg help from her mother’s family. They had turned off their daughter years before, but agreed to let Margaret stay with them until the babe was delivered. Three months after, they sent her off with eight shillings, a cart, a pony, and the goat. In return for this largesse, she was made to swear that she would never return.”

  Despite the fire at her back, Jane felt cold to the bone. She wrapped her arms around her waist. How could people be so cruel to one another? “I should like to find those heartless beasts,” she said, “and tear them limb from limb.”

  “As would I, more than you can know. In any event, Margaret set off on a desperate journey south to plead with her father for assistance. By then she must have known she was dying, else she’d not have grasped for a straw in the wind. Barrow said she was obsessed with finding him and kept demanding that she be allowed to climb aboard her cart and continue the search. He was Nan’s only hope, she insisted. She meant to approach him Christmas morning, certain he would not turn Nan away on that holiest of days.”

  “No more could we,” she said, arrested at the thought. “Is that why—”

  “In part,” Fallon said. “It was Margaret’s faith in a Christmas miracle that gave Barrow the idea, to be sure. For the rest, we happened to be there, and he had run out of options by then. He gave Margaret his word, you see, that he would find a home for Nan. He stayed with her the last night of her life, promising again and again, not certain she could even hear him. But at the end, while he was sitting beside her with Nan in his arms, she opened her eyes and reached for her child. She appeared to be lucid, Barrow said. She stroked the babe’s cheek, and thanked Barrow for his kindness, and when he made his promise yet again, she smiled. A few minutes later, she was gone.”

  Jane pressed her wrist to her mouth to keep from sobbing aloud. Tears poured down her cheeks.

  Save for the crackling fire, the room went silent for a long time. Finally Jane regained control of herself, using her skirt to wipe her face. Unable to look at Fallon quite yet, she turned on her cushion and placed another log on the fire.

  When she turned back, he was gazing directly at her, his face somber, his eyes shimmering. Were those tears, she wondered? He was deeply affected, she was certain, but only a man with a heart of stone could fail to be.

  “The rest is not so painful to hear,” he assured her, rubbing the back of his neck. “But it was painful enough for Mr. Barrow, who spent much of what he’d saved from his wages to pay the physician and see Margaret buried in the parish churchyard. He never mentioned the money, of course, until I asked if there were debts to be settled. He said not, but it was clear that by the end of his journey, he was at very low tide indeed.

  “He went first in search of Margaret’s father, as he’d sworn to do. But the man was dead, devil take him, so Barrow cast about for a decent family willing to take Nan in and love her. He was a stranger in a strange land, though, with little idea where to begin. Mind you, he skimmed briefly over this part of the story, but I knew from his voice and the look in his eyes that he had met a good deal of rejection along the way.”

  “No room at the inn,” Jane murmured.

  “In a way, yes. Although if he’d stumbled across the Black Dove Inn, the Wilkenses would have welcomed him immediately. They have offered to adopt Nan into the family, you know. Indeed, they are eager to do so. But it was Jed he chanced to meet in Rumford, where the boy goes twice a week to buy food and supplies. Jed took Barro
w and Nan home to Agathy, who agreed to care for the child while he continued his search. Because Agathy’s cottage is small, Barrow slept here in the dower house when he wasn’t on the road. He sold the cart and pony to hire a job horse so that he could make faster time between villages.”

  “What a remarkable man,” Jane said. “I wish I could have met him.”

  “I am privileged to have had that opportunity,” Fallon agreed. “He will write me if he thinks of anything else I should know and has promised to contact me the next time his ship makes port in England. You may be sure I’ll find a way to repay him—without insulting his pride, of course—for all he has done for Margaret and Nan.” He reached for the coffeepot.

  “The coffee must have gone cold by now, sir. Shall I brew some fresh?”

  He shook his head. “Everything tastes like mud at this point, even the brandy. Besides, I’m nearly done with Barrow’s story. He fled the dower house when my agents came poking around the estate. By then he had despaired of finding Nan a home in a nearby town, and his ship was due to sail within a few days, so he went off to London and investigated the foundling homes there. I won’t tell you what he had to say of them, but I am resolved to use what little influence a Fallon may have in the Lords, along with my own financial resources, to improve conditions in those appalling warehouses.”

  Jane nodded, aware he would not wish to be praised for what any decent man with the means to help would do. At the same time, a glimmer of hope rose again in her heart. Nan remained, as Agathy had said, all alone in this world. Well, not altogether, for Fallon would never abandon her. But what would a bachelor aristocrat do with an infant? And when he took an aristocratic wife, would she welcome an orphan into her aristocratic home? Not likely! The glimmer of hope flamed brighter.

  “By now,” Fallon said, “you have guessed the rest. Barrow, on his way back from London, sheltered at a post house during the storm that brought us to the dower house. When it abated, he was on his way to Agathy’s cottage when he chanced to see me riding around. Lost,” he added with a rueful grin. “You recall that I went exploring on Christmas Eve. Barrow followed me to the dower house, saw you through the window, and hit upon his plan to leave Nan by the stable for us to find.”

  “Did he know who you were? I mean, who you are?”

  There was a long silence. Fallon’s face had gone pale, and his hand trembled as he set the cup in its saucer. “Not for certain, Jane, but he had guessed. He rallied Jed to help, brought Nan and the goat to the stable, and when everything was arranged, he rang the bell to get our attention. The bell had used to be around the goat’s neck, he told me. He forgot to leave it when he went off to hide with Jed and wait for us to come out. It was you turned the trick, of course. When he saw how you took Nan up in your arms, he was convinced she had found a home. Then, with little time to spare, he mounted his horse and left to catch his ship. Jed had promised to keep an eye on us and rescue Nan if she looked in need of rescuing.”

  He leaned his head back, eyes closed. “And that is what I learned from Mr. Barrow,” he said wearily. “You know what happened after that.”

  But she hadn’t heard the whole of it, Jane knew in her heart. After the urgent ride to Portsmouth and the racking story he had related to her, Fallon was burned down to coals. But he felt a pain far deeper than he had confessed. It had been in his eyes when first she saw him standing at the parlor door and grew immeasurably more profound as he spoke.

  She studied his face, the lines of fatigue at his temples and the corners of his mouth, the long thick eyelashes, the muscle ticking at his jaw. He was so much alone, she thought, even more alone than she. He had no one at all to confide in. To be sure, he was not a man to acknowledge his feelings to himself, let alone share them with anyone else. If he had wanted her to know, he would have told her.

  Or perhaps he wanted to and didn’t know how. She risked nothing to ask, save a rebuff, and heaven knew she’d survived her share of those over the years.

  “What more, my lord?” she began hesitantly. “Will you tell me?”

  She heard the breath rasp in his throat, and his eyes opened, glowing like molten amber in the firelight. “You are a witch,” he said softly. “I have always known it. And I was a fool to think I could hide the truth from you. I’m not altogether sure why I tried, except that the words are so vastly hard to say. But I don’t mind if you know, Jane. I won’t even ask you not to tell Lady Swann, for I am sure you will understand why this must not become common gossip. For Nan’s sake, mind you, not my own.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “Perhaps you can help me decide if she ought to be told, when she is old enough to understand. Or tell me what to do beginning to end, Jane, for God knows I haven’t the slightest notion where to go from here.”

  Unable to think of anything to say, she knelt forward and placed a hand on his thigh. In response he brushed his fingers against her cheek.

  “Nan is not altogether without blood family,” he said. “When Margaret went in search of her father, she was looking for my father. She was my sister, Jane. My half-sister, not to put too fine a point on it, and born after I had gone sailing off on the Petrel. Hell confound it, if only I had known about her.”

  Pulse hammering in her veins, she forced herself to remain calm. All this time, as he was telling her what she thought was the heartbreaking story of a stranger, he had been speaking of his own sister. Dear God. She could scarcely breathe for wanting to take him in her arms.

  “You must not punish yourself,” she said gently. “You could not have known. Who was there to tell you?”

  “Indeed. I have been trying to convince myself for the past twenty or so hours that I am not to blame. But what has logic to say about what happened to her? I was here in England when Margaret set off in her pony cart with Nan. While I was choosing a town house and being measured by Weston for coats and waistcoats, she was dying.”

  Nothing she could say would make a difference, Jane knew. Stroking her hair, he gazed over her shoulder into the fire.

  “In the spring,” he said finally. “I’ll go to where she is buried and place a marker on her grave. She must not be forgot, Jane.” Conceiving of something to do, some action to take, seemed to revive him. He let go her hair and stood, clearly needing to be in motion. “I shall care for Nan, of course. She’ll come back with me to London. The servants can fix up a nursery, and my solicitor will employ a suitable nanny, or whatever it is she requires.” When his pacing carried him past the basket, he paused to gaze down at the sleeping child. “Damn if I know what that is.”

  Heart galloping in her chest, Jane rose and clutched at her skirts with both hands. “The very last thing she needs, my lord, is to be raised by servants and hired nurses.”

  He looked over at her with a frown. “You think she will do better if I find a family to take her in? But how could I be sure of them? I cannot pluck a suitable family out of a hat. Even the Wilkenses, who would certainly treat her well, are barely literate. She ought to be educated, don’t you think?”

  “Certainly. But have you considered what will happen a few weeks or months from now, when you go in search of a wife? I know you mean to do so. Will your bride accept Nan into the family and raise her as an equal with your children?”

  He stalked to the fireplace and jabbed at the logs with a poker. “I had not considered. But why would she mind? Marriages among my class are based solely on alliances of titles, connections, fortunes—even political aspirations. We will be entering a business arrangement, after all.”

  “A marriage of convenience.”

  “Precisely. Since I already have the title and the fortune, I seek a wife with the proper connections. Her reputation and the influence of her family will go a long way to restoring the Fallon name, which has been my goal from the beginning.” He grimaced. “It sounds damnably bloodless when spoken aloud
, does it not?”

  “It is a laudable goal, sir, and I am persuaded you ought not turn back when you are so near to achieving it. But I see no place for Nan in that picture. Indeed, she would be a constant reminder of your family’s disgraceful history, and I would not be in the least surprised if people concluded she was your own bastard daughter. How did you mean to explain her to your bride, and to everyone else?”

  “Obviously I had not thought that far ahead. But dammit, Jane, she is my niece. I cannot cut her loose on my own account. And who is to say that a woman courageous enough to marry a Fallon will not also accept the child?”

  “And love her in the bargain?” Jane shook her head. “I am no gamester, my lord, but the odds against that seem overwhelming to me.”

  The poker dropped from his hand, clattering against the hearth. Head bowed, he stood gazing down at it. “What am I to do then?” he murmured. “I once asked you, Jane, to be my conscience in reserve when my own failed me. Well, it is certainly failing me now.”

  “I believe, sir, that you cannot come to any reasonable conclusion while you are driven by guilt. Long ago, you set yourself to dredge your family back into respectability. I am not convinced you give tuppence for what Society thinks of you, but I respect you for choosing a worthwhile goal and pursuing it with diligence.”

  “Do you? Then why have I the feeling you are ripping me to pieces with every word you say? Make no mistake, I accept not a hair of responsibility for the crimes of my family. But I did inherit responsibility for the future, and that is a charge I have always accepted. Do you expect me to let it go for the sake of a child?”

  “Do you?”

  “Dammit, Jane, you are supposed to be advising me.”

  “Then let us come to the point, sir. Why do you wish to take Nan into your household and acknowledge your relationship, even though that would put the both of you in an impossible situation?”