Marquess of Fortune: A Lords of Fate Novel

by K. J. Jackson

  Lily stared at him. At the hard set of his jaw. At the determined crinkle edging his hazel eyes. At the lips that spoke words of forgiveness, of redemption. Lips, voice that she used to love.

  Her eyes fell closed with a heavy exhale. There was nothing for her at Notlund. Only forward. Forward with Garek. At least for the next few days.

  She nodded, praying this was not another trap, not another mistake.

  Fate couldn’t be that cruel, could it?

  ~~~

  The screams woke her up.

  The window was cracked to the night air in the room of the inn. Cracked to the screams that tore along the main road through the small village.

  Lily sat up in bed, her bleary eyes searching the room, trying to orientate herself. Trying to figure out if the screams were real or part of the dreams she still had about Brianna being attacked.

  She glanced about the foreign surroundings in the light afforded from a lit lantern just outside the window.

  Her mind clicked. She was in the next coaching inn, another day’s travel from Coldstream. As they had at the Golden Pheasant Inn, they were pretending to be married so as to not arouse suspicion.

  Garek—where was he? She leaned over the side of the bed to look at the floor. Fully clothed—as he had been when she shut her eyes—Garek lounged long on a blanket covering the floor, his left hand propped underneath his head as a pillow.

  A scream, high-pitched and tortured, floated in through the window.

  Lily bent over the edge of the bed, poking Garek’s shoulder. His eyes popped open.

  Another scream ripped through the night.

  He sat up, rubbing his eyes. “What in hades…”

  Lily pointed to the window. “From out there. How did that not wake you?”

  He shrugged. “I learned to sleep through much worse…”

  A staccato shriek, three times over, echoed in.

  Lily finished his thought. “In prison?”

  “Yes. And the war.” He stood, his movements suddenly swift as he went to his boots and yanked them on. “That’s a scream of pain, Lily. A woman. I have to follow it, help if I can.”

  He moved to his bag, digging deep for the wallet that held his surgical tools.

  Lily jumped out of bed, quickly sliding on the skirt and jacket of her riding habit over her chemise.

  Garek glanced up at her. “You are not coming with me, Lily.”

  “I am.” She went to her boots, dragging them on, her fingers nimble on the laces.

  “No. We do not know what is out there—what happened. I do not know if it is safe for you.”

  Bent over, tightening her left boot, Lily craned her neck to look up at him. “Whatever has been done, it is done, Garek, or there would not still be screams. There is now someone obviously in need of help. You know I can help. Extra hands, just as I did with Brianna.”

  She stood, hands on her hips as she stared at him.

  The next screech filled the air, and Garek nodded, going to the door.

  They were down to the street, following the intermediate screams along the buildings lining the road. Some buildings had lanterns lighting the night, most did not. They stopped as a wretchedly bent old woman stumbled out the door of the bakery and into the street right before them. A long apron, streaked with blood, covered the front of her. Her grey head down, she bustled past Garek and Lily.

  A scream came down from the rooms above the bakery. Garek snatched the woman’s arm.

  “Good lady, what has happened?” Garek pointed up at the building.

  “The babe ain’t right in her.” Her gravelly old voice held little compassion. “Ain’t nothing to be done fer her.”

  Garek shook her arm. “You are the midwife and you just left her, woman?”

  “Mind yer business. I been here fer two days and nights.” She jerked her arm free. “Ain’t nothing more I cin do.”

  She pushed herself past Garek and Lily, moving down the road.

  Garek opened the door to the shop, looking around. Finding stairs off to the side, he moved toward them, looking upward to the light on the next level. “Hello?”

  A screech came down as reply.

  Garek ran up the stairs with Lily at his heels.

  Low angled ceilings made Garek duck in front of her as he moved to the doorway next to the stairs. The door was open, and Lily bumped into Garek’s shoulder, looking past him. Her stomach curdled at the sight.

  A woman thrashed on the bed, doused with sweat, delirious, the bottom half of the bed soaked in blood. A man stood next to her, his head bowed and shoulders shaking. He pulled the woman’s arm straight, her hand captured in his grip, hugging it to his chest.

  “Sir, I am a physician. Garek Harrison.” Garek stopped just outside the entrance to the room. “We passed the midwife on the street. May I be of assistance?”

  The man’s head turned to the doorway, his eyes hollow, beaten. His look dropped from Garek to Lily. Slowly, raw shock slowing his movements, his eyes went back to Garek. He nodded.

  “My wife…” The man broke, hiding behind a hand as a sob overtook him. He sucked in a breath, looking at his wife. “She said there be nothin’ to do. Three days it’s been.” His voice cracked. “The midwife gave her up for death. The babe is already gone.”

  Garek handed Lily his surgical wallet and stepped into the room. He motioned to the woman’s swollen belly, the bloody sheets covering her. “May I?”

  The man nodded.

  “Your name?” Garek asked.

  “Fallow. Jonathan Fallow. Me wife is Brittalynne.”

  Garek pushed aside the red-sopped sheets and set his hand on the woman’s stomach. Her body went into spasms under him, and he moved his hand along her belly.

  A gasp, and he looked up to the man, his voice a whisper. “A kick. The babe is still alive.”

  The man sprang next to Garek, leaning over the mound of his wife’s belly. “No—no—no—no—she said—no.”

  Garek grabbed Mr. Fallow’s hand, placing it on the lower side of his wife’s protruding belly. “Here. Feel it here. There. It is still alive. But it will not come out this way.”

  “The midwife said—” Mr. Fallow shook his head, one arm still clamping his wife’s hand to his chest. “She couldn’t turn it. She said it was dead.”

  Garek released Mr. Fallow’s hand. “I may still be able to get the babe out. But your wife, Brittalynne…she will not survive it.”

  Mr. Fallow looked down to his wife’s face, her head rolling in agony back and forth on the bed. “Will she survive at all?”

  Garek shook his head, his voice solemn. “No. This will speed it.”

  Mr. Fallow watched his wife for a long moment. Fevered, tortured moans rolled from her chest, pain contorting her face.

  Long moments passed, time frozen, and then his head dropped, his mouth going to her hand. “Do it. She is in nothing but pain, now.”

  Garek nodded, pushing all of the bloody sheets away from the woman’s belly.

  Lily had hovered in the doorway, not sure if she should enter. But at Fallow’s last words, she stepped into the room, backing into the closest corner, only to bump into something squishy. She spun to find a small girl, maybe five or six years old, staring up at her with wide, horrified eyes.

  She stepped away from the girl.

  “Lily, I need help. Unbind my instruments.”

  Lily turned back to Garek, the mess of blood and the ravaged body of the woman up close nearly stopping her. She swallowed hard, grabbing a wooden chair from the wall and dragging it next to Garek. Unlatching the wallet, she set his tools on the seat, splaying them out as quickly as possible.

  Both hands on the woman’s protruding belly, Garek pressed through her skin, every jab causing a scream. It didn’t slow Garek, concentration consuming his face. “The babe is here. Lily, hand me the scalpel and gather cloth, blankets—clean—quickly.”

  Lily handed him the scalpel as she searched the room, seeing nothing but blood-
soaked sheets. She spun and ran out the door, finding another bedroom a few steps away. A small bed sat under an angled roof. Lily stripped the sheet from the bed, speeding back to Garek.

  Her feet skidded to a stop.

  Garek was cutting through the woman’s skin, into her belly. Pulling the cut wide. She looked up to the woman’s face. Delirious, Brittalynne didn’t even seem to understand she was being cut.

  Lily’s eyes went back to Garek’s hands, and she saw it. A blood-covered foot, tiny, flailing into the opening.

  Garek’s fingers—so large, so gentle—grabbed the foot, pulling the babe from the woman.

  Gore and blood and babe and cord blended in a wiggling mass, Garek cradling the whole of it in his hands with reverence.

  “Lily. The cloth.”

  Spurred into movement, Lily jumped forward, making a sling with the cloth. Garek set the babe into it.

  “Wipe its eyes, its mouth.”

  Garek’s fingers moved to cut the cord and tie it the best he could while working around Lily’s hands both cradling and trying to clear the muck from its face.

  The cord tied off, Garek looked at Lily as he wiped his hands on a trailing fold of the cloth. “It breathes?”

  Lily looked down at the face of the babe—she had assumed it was, but maybe it had been her jostling the babe instead of the babe moving on its own.

  Garek moved to the babe’s head, his fingers running over its mouth. He put his ear next to its nose. Breath held, Lily watched Garek’s face, waiting for something—anything—to flicker across his features.

  A slight smile.

  Lily exhaled as Garek stood, looking over his shoulder to Mr. Fallow. “It is a girl, and it is alive.”

  A nod, and Mr. Fallow crumpled around his wife’s arm, his shoulders trembling. His wife had stilled, only shallow breathing, gurgles, coming from her lips.

  Garek set his face in front of Lily’s eyes, blocking her view of the woman. “Take the babe and clean it, wrap it to warmth. Wait outside.”

  Frozen, her breath suddenly not reaching her lungs, Lily could not move. Could not understand the death that was about to happen before her. The cruelty. A mother dying.

  Garek’s hands went to her shoulders, squeezing as he set his lips on her forehead. “You did well, Lils.” He pulled away, bending so his eyes were only a breath from hers, his voice soft. “Now you need to go downstairs and take care of the babe.”

  It edged her out of her stunned trance. “Yes.” Lily could only force the one word through her choked throat.

  Clutching the babe to her chest, Lily backed out of the room, going down the stairs. She walked about the rooms on the ground level, going from the front area, where the baked goods were made and sold, to the open back room.

  Dried to crispness on a rope by the hearth, several simple wool dresses were hung. Lily set the babe on the floor, found a flint box and quickly lit a tallow candle and the peat log in the fireplace. She took one of the dresses and found a bucket in the corner that held clean water.

  The babe, tiny with flailing arms, took the quick washing Lily gave it with several soft whimpers, but not the slightest cry. The babe cleaned as well as Lily could manage in the limited light, she tore the skirt free from the dress and wrapped the babe snuggly in layers of warmth.

  No further screams came from above, which told Lily exactly what transpired up there. Her heart breaking for Mr. Fallow, for the little girl in the corner, for the babe in her arms, Lily swallowed back tears and went out the rear door into the night air.

  She paced outside for an hour, the babe snuggled against her chest, tiny puffs of the babe’s breath constant on Lily’s neck. The night air still held a whiff of the heat from earlier in the day, but the land was calm—too calm, void of respect for what she had just witnessed.

  Her eyes to the stars above, Lily stared at the vastness of the sky, cursing over and over the brutality of what had happened to this family. To the mother.

  The door opened behind her, soft sobs entering the night.

  Lily turned to see the little girl from the room stomping out onto the well-worn grass Lily had been pacing on.

  “Aah, sweet one,” Lily exhaled, juggling the babe into one arm and wrapping her other arm tight around the little girl.

  The girl didn’t resist, her tears soaking through Lily’s skirt to the skin at her waist. It took long minutes before the girl drew back, pulling away from Lily’s arm. She turned from Lily, furiously wiping her eyes before crossing her arms over her chest and kicking the dirt.

  “Papa made me leave.”

  Lily stepped in front of her, gently brushing the brown hair along the girl’s forehead to the side. “What is your name, sweet one?”

  “Julia.”

  Lily tilted the babe down from her chest, holding her out. “Do you want to hold your little sister, Julia?”

  “No.” The girl flung her hand through the air, almost swiping the baby. “No, no, no. I hate her. I hate her. I hate her.”

  Julia ran around Lily and the babe, growling as she disappeared into the line of trees behind the building.

  Mouth agape, Lily watched her run, the quarter moon not shedding enough light to see where the girl disappeared to amongst the trees.

  With a glance over her shoulder at the upper level of the home, Lily tucked the babe against her chest, following the girl into the trees.

  Fifty steps into the line of woods, the trees cleared to a stream. Lily found Julia immediately, standing in tall grasses next to the bank of the water, her hand wrapping along the seeded tops of the blades of grass, and yanking them, one by one. The girl wasn’t crying, just angrily ripping apart the grasses.

  After a few minutes of watching her from the trees, Lily took a deep breath, snuggling the babe under her chin. She walked over to little Julia, stopping beside her and facing the stream.

  Lily looked down at the top of her head. “You will miss your mama terribly, I can see that. I am so sad for you, Julia.”

  “It ain’t fair.”

  “No, it is not. You are very right.” Lily gathered all of the gentleness she possessed, infusing it into her voice. “This is terribly unfair. For you. For your father.”

  “I need her. Papa needs her.”

  Lily set her arm along Julia’s shoulders, pulling her to her hip. “Your little sister needs her too, but will never even know her.”

  The girl pulled at Lily’s hand for the merest second, then relaxed, leaning back into Lily, silent.

  “You need to know, Julia, how very important you will be for your little sister.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. You will be the one that guides her, protects her. Your papa will need you to do that. She will need you to do that.”

  “But I hate her.”

  Lily’s hold tightened on Julia’s shoulder. “I know. I know you do right now, and that is what you must do in this moment. But it will fade. For the most part, it will fade, even though I think you will still hate her at times, because she took your mother.” Lily swallowed hard, trying to control her voice. “But you must hide it from your sister. Never let her know.”

  Julia looked up to Lily, her eyes wide. “Why? How do you know that?”

  “My own mother died in childbirth.”

  “And you have a younger sister?”

  Lily shook her head slightly, careful not to rouse the babe under her chin. “No, our mama died having me. I am the younger sister. I did not even know how she died until I was five. My papa told me. But my sister, her name is Brianna—”

  “That is pretty.”

  Lily smiled. “It is. In all of our lives, Brianna has never once—even though she must have thought it a thousand times over—blamed me. Never once said I was the cause of our mama’s death.”

  “But you were.”

  “I was.” Lily’s heart clenched. “And I knew it.”

  Lily looked from the girl’s face, her eyes settling on the water. “I have always hated mys
elf for it. Hated myself for killing her. Hated myself for taking her away before I ever knew her.” Her head shook. “I asked Brianna once if Mama ever even got to hold me, touch me. Bree did not know the answer. She just gave me a hug. The only thing she could tell me was that our mother was very kind, and could sing, beautifully. Bree says I have her voice. A voice I never heard—a voice I took from this world.”

  Lily looked down to little Julia. “Do you see how important it is? How important you will be to her? Your sister will never be whole, no matter what she does. She will always have this hollow, rawness in her heart—knowing she took her own mama’s life. It is something she will never escape, no matter how she tries.”

  “That is stupid.”

  “What?”

  “I know I just said it, miss, but I didn’t mean it. I was mad. Ain’t no way a babe can kill an adult.”

  Julia looked over her shoulder into the woods, then back up to Lily. “No disrespect to you, miss. Papa don’t like me arguing with adults. But my little sister ain’t doin’ no harm. Look at her. She done nothing wrong. She almost died too.”

  Lily stared at Julia for an aching moment. Slowly, she shifted the babe downward, her eyes dropping to the fuzz on the babe’s head, then to the closed eyes, little slits wrinkling her face. Tiny nose. Sweet heart-shaped mouth. Lily’s tears started to stream, falling onto the blanket, soaking it.

  “Yes.” Lily’s voice cracked. “I suppose you are right.”

  Julia’s small hand wedged between Lily and the babe. “I think I need to take my sister from you, miss. Don’t want her to get cold, what with your wet tears.”

  Lily smiled through her tears, loath to relinquish the babe. But she let little Julia take the babe, gently, from her arms.

  “Best get back to the house, miss. Papa will be worried if we are not there—his girls.”

  Lily nodded, her hand wrapping along the crown of Julia’s head, stroking her brown hair. “Yes. Let us return.”

  They started walking back through the woods.

  “You are going to be the very best big sister, Julia. I can already see it.”

  Julia looked over her shoulder up to Lily. “I plan to, miss. I plan to.”