Lucky's Lady (The Caversham Chronicles Book 4)

by Raven, Sandy

  Yes, the more she thought of it, the more she knew she would have done nothing differently. Nothing.

  One of the two men standing next to the lady cleared his throat, and Lucky glanced back at him, and smiled. "Mary, I would like to introduce my family. We are here to help you. Michael is a barrister—"

  Just then, Sister Agnes entered the room, interrupting them with a serene smile, as the furious screams of an infant echoed from the hallway behind the door. "That didn't take long. I believe the little dear knew the moment you'd left the room and from then on there was no consoling her." The nun turned her smile on their guests. "Please have a seat. I will have coffee brought in and Mary-Michael will return shortly."

  Mary-Michael hurried to her room and as soon as the door was locked, Rachel helped her with her bodice so she could feed Lucy, before her ear-splitting cries woke every other child in the home.

  "That's her. I know it is." A flood of pride washed over him, and Lucky gave the others in the room an awkward smile. "That's my daughter's cry, and it's a strong cry, too, isn't it?" he asked his sister.

  Smiling about as much as the situation allowed, Lia nodded.

  Despite his joy and the sudden swell of love at hearing his daughter's cry for the first time, Lucky couldn't help but sober when he remembered why they were there. The guard had followed behind Mary and the nun, leaving him with his family in the reception room. He was here to help Mary out of this. "I'm not leaving Baltimore without them," he whispered.

  He met Michael's gaze. Surely there was something legal they could do, for crying out loud! What civilized culture executes a person for adultery? They were treating Mary as though she were a murderer. "What do I have to do? Michael, I'll do anything. Just tell me what I can do, because I will not let her hang."

  "I need to know the facts in the case first, Lucky," Michael said. "I can't say what to do, until I know why the priest says she will not defend herself against the charges."

  "She will have a reason, I'm sure," Lucky replied, his confidence started to return. "Mary is one of the most pragmatic women I've ever met. She will have likely calculated a reason for doing what she's done. She always has a reason for everything."

  "Reason or no, as Mary is not a British citizen, I'm not sure Fox will be able to help us," Ren said. "But it won't hurt to have him here. Your daughter is, by paternity, a dual citizen."

  Michael served himself a cup of coffee, tasting it before adding his cream and sugar. "I may have to wait until her attorney returns, but I'd like to see his file on the case, perhaps even speak to the witnesses who testified against her. Though I'm sure Mr. Baxter is very capable, maybe a fresh set of eyes on the evidence can spot something that was missed the first time."

  Forty minutes after she left the room, Mary returned carrying a bundle loosely wrapped in a knitted blanket, while the dour-faced mustachioed guard followed behind. If she had been in chains it couldn't have been a worse sight for him. The entire ordeal had taken a visible toll on Mary, he could tell she was not the same. She didn't smile the way she used to, her amber eyes used to shimmer with dancing gold flecks. Now she had dark circles under her eyes, and her skin looked pale, missing its normal rosy hue.

  She carried his daughter. His now quiet, infant daughter, who no longer screamed with a force so strong as to shake down the timbers.

  Unable or unwilling to meet his gaze, Mary handed him the sleeping bundle. She stroked the baby's cheek and Lucky's heart swelled to see her tenderness toward their child. It was evident in her touch and the look on her face. From the hitch in her breath, it was clear that she'd been crying. He couldn't imagine the thoughts going through her mind at this moment.

  Lucky held this warm bundle of babe—his daughter—as if she was the most fragile of living things. She was fragile, utterly helpless and dependent on her parents for everything. Both of her parents. And he wasn't going to let Mary give up on the life they had waiting for them. Together. Raising their child, and possibly even more children.

  "Oh, God, Mary," he whispered, "she's beautiful." He gently moved her tiny fist from her tiny pink mouth so he could gaze at her bowed lips and turned-up button nose. The babe already had a full head of darkest brown hair that curled delicately at the nape. She was his child without a doubt. He could even see a resemblance to Lia's daughter Isabel when she was an infant. They were a family now. He just had to convince Mary of this.

  His sister had come close to see the baby and he raised her head for the rest of family to see his beautiful daughter.

  Behind him Mary stifled a sob and Lucky whirled around. She gazed up at him with red-rimmed eyes–and that look of sorrow and resignation in her face shredded his soul to pieces. It was as though she'd given up the fight, as though staying alive and raising their daughter with him was out of reach for her. It wasn't. And he was going to see to it that she walked out of this children's home a free woman, and they were going to live together and raise their child.

  Through her choked tears, she said, "I call her—Lucy." Mary began to tremble visibly. Lucky handed the babe to Lia, and reached for Mary intending to comfort her.

  The guard blocked his way. "Ye're not to touch."

  Lucky clenched a fist, his frustration at the entire calamitous fiasco starting to wear on him. If anything would make him feel better it would be to find that constable who started this injustice to Mary and slam his face with a few good punches then call him out, even if it was illegal. It was the only way he would be satisfied. To hell with justice. Mary was not some criminal!

  "No, Lucky, it's fine," Mary said through the tears. "I have been preparing for the day I would have to do this—hand her over to another for the rest of her life. Only... I didn't—" She paused a moment to catch her breath. "I didn't think it would be today."

  "I'm not taking her from you, Mary. We will raise her together." Lucky tried to sound reassuring, but her pain was making it almost impossible for him to believe it himself. He glanced back at his two brothers-in-law, both of whom gave nods of encouragement. "Mary, we are here to help. Michael is waiting for the return of Mr. Baxter, and Ian has gone for our ambassador, Mr. Henry Fox."

  "How on earth will he get in to see the ambassador?" She sounded stunned at the idea that Ian would just go fetch the man. "Does Ian even know the man?"

  "No, but we do," said Ren, who'd been quietly taking in the scene since arriving. "Michael and I sent him with a letter, asking him to come as soon as possible."

  "I'm so sorry, Mary," Lucky said. "My introductions are long over-due." He presented his sister the duchess, her husband the duke, his other brother-in-law, Michael, another earl.

  Mary's eyes widened and her jaw went slack, but the deputy behind her began to sputter in shock at the roomful of noblemen in his presence.

  "D-duke? Lucky? You never told me your sister was a duchess. I mean, I knew about Ian being forced to go to England to inherit some title, but—"

  Her shock was slowly replaced with anger. She was likely mad that he'd never told her, and he had no one to blame but himself for her upset.

  "Well, you must feel like the black sheep in the family, with all your brothers-in-law being titled noblemen," she said, finally teasing him. Relief swept through him—briefly—because she was willing to make a jest at this time. However no one else in the room laughed. Ren did cough softly as though clearing his throat, Michael looked at him with a curious wide-eyed look. Lucky stole a glance at his sister, who refused to acknowledge him, pretending an intense interest in the sleeping infant in her arms. He then returned his attention to Mary, giving her a peevish look. He wanted to put his arms around her and kiss her rising anger away, but he was unable to touch her.

  "Ummm, well, that is not necessarily so, sweetheart." Lucky feared what she would think of him for withholding this piece of his identity from her. At the time he felt it was the right thing to do. He'd planned all along to tell her—just when the time was right. And that time had never come up. Until now.
"You see, about ten years ago, I..." He paused, unsure of how to continue. She had to think he'd told her everything about his life during his first visit to Indian Point. In fact, Lucky remember one pointed question specifically addressing any other names or titles, and he'd replied in the negative. He'd lied that day.

  "A while back, my cousin died and—umm—I inherited a really old Italian title that has been in the family for a very long time, a Papal Title of Nobility. No one even remembers why it was issued. There's no land or wealth or anything that came with it, but..." The look of pained disappointment on her face twisted his heart. He almost felt as though he'd let her down in not being honest with her. He wanted to make her understand why he'd kept it from her but couldn't find the words. And an apology wasn't nearly enough.

  She was silent, staring at him as though he'd spontaneously sprouted another head and her scientific mind was attempting to discern the usefulness of the extra cranial appendage. "Why did you hide that part of who you are?"

  He didn't reply. He couldn't think what to say, and before he could come up with something, she shook her head.

  "Isn't it important to you? Or are you ashamed of it?" Her golden-brown eyes widened as though she came to a sudden realization. "It was me. I didn't matter, did I? At least at that time, I didn't matter."

  How could she possibly come to that conclusion? "That's not so, Mary! You have always mattered to me."

  "Don't lie to me now, Lucky," Mary said, her voice a harsh whisper. "I think I have the right to know the man I'm giving my daughter to."

  "Mary, I swear it, as God is my witness. At the time I didn't think you'd be impressed by things like a title, I wanted you to love me, not a title or my wealth."

  "Oh, wealth, too?" Mary had a look on her face that was part tearful frustration and part disappointment. Her eyes were swimming in unshed tears. "It's a good thing you're rich, because I think the reason I might hang is because someone wants my husband's shipyard and his fortune. Now that I know you're well-off, I should rest much easier in hell."

  "Don't say that, Mary," Lucky admonished. "We will raise our daughter. Together. We will marry and—"

  "No. We cannot. I... I'm about to hang for fornicating with you, and I just realized... I don't even know who you are." She kept her voice soft, so as not to wake Lucy. "I thought you were my captain, but you're not. You come in here with these well-connected relations and inform me that you're here to help me? Well, Lord Whatever-Your-Name-Is, they may be connected in your world but that influence doesn't extend to this country. I can't believe you want me to accept your family's assistance to get me, one little adulteress, out from the hangman's noose? Why? Why do you care now? I didn't matter enough to know the truth of who you were for two years. You had two years to tell me the truth about who you really were, Lucky and... you didn't."

  Lucky let her finish her speech, knowing she had every right to her anger. He'd lied to her, a lie by omission, but a lie nonetheless. Right then he wanted so badly to hold her. If he could just wrap her in his arms, she could cry out her upset and then he could soothe her with a lifetime of apologies.

  "I'm begging you, Mary... you have every right to be angry, but I'm begging you for forgiveness."

  "No," she choked, catching herself before she sobbed. "You don't know what I— Lucky, please take our daughter and leave here."

  "I know your heart, Mary. I will not take our daughter from you," he said calmly, refusing to do as she insisted. "Not now. Not ever."

  "Take her, and don't come back, Lucky. I don't want you to come back."

  Mary began to cry softly, and Lucky never felt so powerless before in his life. He would do anything to help her. If he could just comfort her, reassure her, hold her, love her, all would be well.

  The guard stepped closer to Mary to prevent Lucky from coming nearer.

  "Please take our daughter and go." She turned to leave the room, her guard trailing behind her. The novice returned and took the still-sleeping infant to bring it to Mary's room.

  This was all his fault. He'd wanted Mary in a carnal way from the moment he met her that first day in front of her office building—when she was wearing an over-sized straw hat and odd trousers that looked like they were too big for her. If anyone deserved to be punished it was him. He was the one who seduced her. She'd resisted and resisted, until... she couldn't.

  And their lovemaking was perfection. At least for him, though he was fairly certain it was for Mary, too.

  When Sister Agnes returned to the receiving room, Lucky realized his face was wet with his own tears. He faced the wall and wiped it with his hands.

  "I wish Mary-Michael would get some rest," Sister Agnes said. "She hasn't slept much since the sentencing a few days ago. The poor lass wants to spend the time she has left watching her daughter." The aged nun wiped her eyes. "She said she would have an eternity to sleep."

  He needed air. Now. He couldn't stay in here a moment more. All that was happening to Mary was because of him. He had to right the situation but didn't know how, except to find the former constable for this village and hold him at the edge of a knife blade and make him recant his lies in front of the judge.

  Lucky strode from the building, walking toward the village center. He was exhausted. He needed a meal, a bed, and answers. And he knew of only one place where he could get it all. Becky's.

  By the time he'd ordered a pitcher of ale, Lia, Ren and Michael had arrived.

  "She's terrified," Lia said softly. "Under these circumstances, I can understand. I sympathize with her. Knowing death is imminent is a fear most people can never comprehend." She met her husband's gaze, a Lucky sensed an understanding between them. "I should like to gather my trunk from the rectory. I believe I shall accept Sister Agnes' invitation to stay at the dormitory. It will give Mary and me an opportunity to learn more about each other."

  Ren nodded. "That's a good idea. Michael, Lucky and I will take rooms here at the inn."

  "After Mary settles and after she's had a rest and can think clearly, send word here," Michael said to Lia, "and I will return so I can begin questioning her. With you present, Your Grace, so as to support and encourage her." Michael took a swig from his mug, and stared straight at Lucky. "But not you. I think it best if I speak with her as an attorney and not your brother-in-law." Michael heaved a sigh as he reclined back in the chair. "It amazes me that people here will actually hang a woman for something common in our country."

  "Especially among some of the more notable of our set," Ren added.

  "What would happen if I just steal them away?" Lucky had to ask what, to him, was the obvious solution. It was a grave injustice done to the woman he loved. He wasn't going to let her die for... an affair!

  "You would both be fugitives from the law," Michael replied. "But you know this." His brother-in-law gave him a sympathetic look.

  "I had to ask." Lucky gripped his mug. "I pressured her into having an affair, Michael. I seduced her."

  "I believe you," Michael said.

  "You've always been a master at subtle persuasion," his sister said through her unhappy smile.

  "Only this time it's placed someone he loves at risk." This came from Ren, who always had a way of getting to the core of a problem. "And, if I'm not mistaken, she cannot give you your daughter until paternity is legally settled."

  Michael added, "Especially if this other man is claiming paternity of Mary's child. She's going to have to tell the judge which of you is the father."

  "I see," Lucky said as he ran a finger along the rim of his glass tanker. Although he didn't, really. He didn't see how any of this could be happening at all. He wanted nothing more than to settle this with a judge and take Mary and his daughter home to England.

  Ren traced the carved letters in the table surface in front of him. "I gather from what she's said that Mary thinks the reason this other person has made these claims is for the inheritance she and the child have from her husband."

  "That's what I h
eard as well," seconded Michael.

  "If she had no fortune," mused Ren, "if she had no property, no shipyard, would that man with the claim still want your child? I doubt he would care what happened to her, or Mary."

  Lucky stopped toying with the mug and raised his eyes to Ren. "How could we do that? The courts have likely frozen her assets."

  Michael put up a hand to stop them both. "Before we go much further with planning how we can get Mary out of the hangman's noose, I need to speak with her. I will not make any assertions or speculations until I know the facts in this case."

  Lucky reluctantly agreed with Michael, just as Becky walked into the room and motioned for their party to follow her as she led them into a private dining room in the back of the facility.

  "For the duration of your stay, you shall have this dining room to yourselves. It will be better for conversations of a private nature, captain."

  "Mrs. Parks," Lucky began, then used the name she'd asked him to use two years prior. "Becky, can you tell me what Mary's brother meant when he said Mary could clear this up if she would tell the judge the truth? The truth of what?"

  "Surely she was allowed to defend herself and take the stand?" Michael asked.

  "Sirs," Becky began, "I would love to tell you all the truth, but to do so would violate my friendship with Mary-Michael." When Lucky tried to interrupt her, she stopped him. "I'm so thankful you are all here. You're the answer to all my prayers for Mary-Michael. Please, try to convince her to tell the truth to the judge. She's... she loves you, captain. I know she does. But she also loved her mentor, Mr. Watkins."

  It was going to take an apology of a grand sort for her to forgive him for lying to her. He said as much to his family and Becky.

  The tavern owner just smiled. "Mary-Michael will forgive you anything," Becky said, "if you could find it in your heart to forgive her first. That is all I can tell you, Captain. For anything else, you will have to talk to my friend." She glanced at his relatives, then added, "Alone. I don't think it's something she will want to share with the world."