by Abigail Agar
Gregory shrugged as they made their way around the burned edges of the lot where the factory had stood. Gregory looked over at Jules. She had been in that rubble, dragging bodies out. Again, he felt a deep admiration build for the young woman. He knew a lot of men who would not have dared to do that.
“Look,” Jules said as she pointed to the ground. There was a pocket watch there. She picked it up. “It’s got Marcus’s initials on it.”
Gregory said, “So he made it out of the factory at least.”
“Yes, but where did he end up?” Jules looked around as she held the pocket watch in her hand. “There’s really only one way to get out of the lot if you picture where the factory walls would have been,” Jules said thoughtfully.
Gregory followed the young woman toward a gate in the neighbouring lot’s wooden fence. The door came open easily enough as Gregory pushed it inward.
Gregory stepped through first and looked around the empty yard. The house was falling down. A foul smell hit Gregory’s nose. “I think we found Marcus,” Gregory said as he covered up his nose with his sleeve.
“Oh no,” Jules groaned and covered her nose with the handkerchief Gregory had given her earlier. “He’s almost unrecognizable.”
Gregory nodded as he walked around the body of the wayward factory owner. “Looks like there’s a piercing wound in his chest and side,” he said through the fabric of his shirt.”
“I don’t know how you can even tell,” Jules said in admiration. Marcus’ body was decaying, and Jules could barely make out the man’s features.
Gregory shook his head and said, “I had to take fencing in youth. The wound of a sword is a very distinctive thing. The wounds are too wide for a knife.”
“So, someone with a sword killed him.” Jules shook her head. “Why, though?”
Gregory led Jules back out of the lot and shut the door. “I’ll tip someone off to come find the body. I want to distance us from this,” he said logically. They made their way quickly across town on foot. The light was dimming a bit by the time they made it back. Sherry let them inside and ushered them upstairs.
While Jules changed, she thought of Marcus and his fate. Once she was ready for dinner, Jules came downstairs. She was met at the bottom of the stairs by the Duke and his brother. “Come,” the Duke said, and Jules followed the two men towards the drawing room.
The room was filled with bookshelves, a large desk, a few chairs, lots of oil lamps, and family memorabilia. Jules liked it the moment she saw it. It was the closest to a normal room she had seen thus far in the large home. “What is the urgency?” Jules asked as she took a seat in one of the cushioned chairs.
Fredrick cleared his throat. “Well, my brother told me about your adventures, and now I get to tell you what I learned,” he said with a grin. It was the most enthusiasm Gregory has seen from his brother since the man had returned from the war.
Fredrick continued, “Archibald said the insurance company was a precision outfit. However, he did make mention that a few days before the fire they had gotten a call stating that the owner of the factory wanted to cancel the protection of the property. That was the last they had heard until they read about the fire in the papers.”
“So, that’s why the watermen and wagons never came,” Jules said. Outrage swelled up in Jules’ chest. “He cancelled the order of protection. Do you think that Marcus intended on burning down his property?”
Gregory frowned and said, “Most people who burn their properties purposefully are hoping to get something out of it. He got nothing out of it. It is a good plan, and a businessman would have a good financially sound plan.”
“Gregory’s right,” Fredrick said with a sigh. “The fact remains that someone did call and cancel that order ensuring that when the fire was set there would be little to no help coming.”
Jules balled her fists up and hit them against her legs. “That piece of scum,” she growled. “There were children in that building.”
Fredrick hung his head. “I know. I read about it in the paper. Gregory told me that you were there, Miss Kelley. I cannot express my compassion for that.”
“Lord St Claire, you need not worry. I will be fine. I just want to know why those people had to die,” Jules said, softly.
Gregory looked at them sadly. “We are going to find out,” he assured them both. “And we are going to make sure that things do not go well for them.”
“Here, here,” Fredrick enthused.
Jules gave the Duke a smile that the man returned.
***
“My dear, I do hope you are enjoying the London season. Have you been to any parties?” Lady St Claire asked Jules at the dinner table.
Jules said, “I have never–”
Gregory interrupted, “She’s never really been to the London season.”
“That’s right,” Fredrick chimed in. “Yes, she was just telling me this afternoon about how her father worked his way up in the colonies.”
Jules stared at Fredrick who gave her a wink. Lady St Claire nodded eagerly, “Really? I haven’t heard much of her backstory aside from her mother briefly telling me about her studying through an apprenticeship.”
The Duke agreed, “Yes, she did. She even got promoted through the ranks if I’m not mistaken?” Gregory looked over at Jules for confirmation.
Jules laughed. “Yes. When I finally stopped working in the trade, I had made it to Junior Artisan.”
“That’s fascinating,” Lady St Claire said with feeling. “Your father was a mason as well, child?”
Gregory nodded, and Jules said, “Yes, he was.”
Fredrick smiled and added, “He was a master of his trade from what I have heard.”
Lady St Claire gave Jules an approving look. “Your mother seemed a lovely woman. Was she a mason as well?”
“No,” Jules said with a chuckle. “My mother has always been a seamstress.”
Lady St Claire thought for a moment. “Someone is going to have to vouch for her. Perhaps you can get Dowager Stewart to sponsor her,” the woman said simply.
“So, you aren’t buying the wealthy merchant routine?” Fredrick asked, not the least bit put out.
Lady St Claire smiled at her son. “I have travelled this world a long time, Fred. You will notice that I do not stumble over the bumps anymore,” Lady St Claire said with a smile.
Jules frowned. “What does sponsor mean?” She looked over at the Duke.
Gregory cleared his throat. “It’s just a way of verifying your identity. So, that you are more easily accepted into society,” Gregory explained.
“Wait, so are we going to lie about who I am?” Jules asked incredulously.
Lady St Claire said logically, “If Fred had been right, and you had been from the colonies, then it would be a fine story. All we really need is for someone else to say that you are indeed the daughter of a once-wealthy merchant who is now marrying Gregory to pay off her debts. That is sort of what is happening, isn’t it?”
Jules’ mouth fell open. She spun on the Duke and sneered at the man, “Was this your plan all along? Offer assistance at the price of my virtue? Why not just trade in the streets? Why go through the elaborate hoax?”
Lady St Claire shook her head. “Young lady, your language is most offensive.” Jules grew quiet at the woman’s voice, and Lady St Claire continued, “The hoax is for everyone’s protection. If word were to get out that this was some seedy deal as you describe it, then we would very well become pariahs, and you might very well lose any chance you have of a viable way to ensure the safety of your family.”
The Duke tapped the table. “As awful as you may be thinking of me, just know that this betrothal does not have to end at an altar. If we so choose, we can break the betrothal and go our separate ways, but in the meantime, it keeps you protected by the rules of society,” Gregory said to mollify Jules’ flaring pride.
“Very well,” Jules said softly. “I can see that I have little to no say in this matter. I
feel truly a part of feminine society now.”
Lady St Claire, to Jules’ surprise, gave the young woman a smile.
***
Jules sat in her room. She had a little writing desk to one side, and she sat at the desk contemplating the world outside of her window. The newspapers had carried news of Marcus’ body being found, so apparently the Duke’s tip had worked.
The longer she stayed inside the gilded world of the St Claire family, the further away from everything before seemed. Jules could almost imagine it as a dream if only her life now did not seem like a nightmare. Even though the Duke had promised to let her out of the betrothal, the man had not stated what would happen to her family if she refused to marry him.
Why had she ever trusted the nobleman? Even the man’s brother, whom she had thought trustworthy, seemed oblivious to the distress that she was under.
There was a timid knock on the door before Sherry poked her head in. “Excuse me, Miss,” the maid said with a smile. “I was just coming to bring in fresh water to your room.” The maid paused as she looked at Jules closer. “Is there something the matter?”
“Pretty much everything,” Jules said dejectedly. She drew herself up and shook her head. “I need to get out of here,” she said with determination. “Do you still have the clothes I arrived in or similar garb that might fit?”
Sherry nodded. “Oh, yes, Ma’am. I washed them and put them back in your dresser. You’ll find your clothes folded neatly,” Sherry said helpfully before her faced dipped into a worried frown. “You aren’t really leaving, are you?”
“I just need to,” Jules said then added, “just for a bit. It’ll be our secret, won’t it?”
Sherry worried her lip with her teeth before she finally nodded. “I suppose, Ma’am,” she said with a voice full of doubt and worry.
“I’m going to be fine. I just need to clear my head,” Jules said as she stood up.
Truthfully, at that moment, Jules did not know if she was going to come back or not. Right now, she really needed to see her home again and to know that although the Duke had effectively tricked her into becoming his bride, that she was still herself. There was something important about being her own person, and there were people who needed her.
There was a knock at the door. Sherry went to the door and pulled it open. The Duke stood on the other side in his finery. Jules wondered how much the evening coat he was wearing had cost. “Forgive me for barging in,” the Duke said apologetically. “I was just coming to remind you of the dance that Lady Lexington is holding this evening.”
Jules cringed. She had indeed forgotten about the ridiculous engagement. Now she understood the urgency that the Duke had expressed in getting out of the all those dances. “I’m not feeling well,” Jules said softly.
There was a look of concern that crossed the Duke’s face. It almost made Jules rethink her ruse, but she rallied and kept her face placid. “Should I send for a doctor?” The Duke’s question gave Jules an uncomfortable twinge in her stomach, and she wrapped her arms around herself. “Sherry, go fetch Doctor Shannon.”
“No,” Jules said frantically. “I’ll be fine. I just need to rest. You should go to your event and relax.”
The Duke gave Jules an incredulous look. “I do not think that relaxing will happen with you here sick in bed,” the man said.
“Then don’t go, but I do feel as if I need to lie down,” Jules said as she eased over to the bed. “Just do not go calling doctors on me.”
Sherry ushered the Duke out the door. “I’ll see that she’s taken care of,” the maid said with sincerity.
Helplessly, the Duke watched as the bedroom door shut on him. Inside the room, Jules whispered, “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” Sherry grumbled. “The Duke is a kind man, and I repay him by lying,” the young woman said with such confliction in her voice that Jules softened.
Jules reached out and grabbed the young woman’s hand as she came near the bed. “I’m deeply sorry, Sherry. I promise that I won’t involve you in anything else that might damage your morals,” Jules said remorsefully. “I truly meant no harm.”
“Oh, I know,” Sherry said with a shake of her head. “It’s just cold feet.”
Jules gave the young woman a questioning look. “You think I just have wedding jitters?”
“Who wouldn’t?” Sherry said compassionately. “Taking on a Duchess title and helping to represent a noble family like the St Claire family is an overwhelming proposition. I know that His Grace sprang the betrothal on you. It is normal for you to wish to run from that.”
Jules blinked at the maid. “How do you know all of that?”
“I listen,” Sherry said. Then she shrugged and said with a wry grin, “And I got married once as well.”
Jules watched Sherry fill the basin at her vanity and then the woman put some extra pillows behind her head. Jules asked, “You are married?”
“No,” Sherry said with a shake of her head. “No, he left me and moved to the Americas to search for his fortune. I told everyone he was dead.”
Jules stared at Sherry for a long moment before she burst out laughing. “Well, he probably is by now,” Jules said laughing.
Sherry laughed too and replied, “That was my line of thinking. If he ever decides to show back up, then I’ll just faint.”
Jules shook her head at the young woman. “Sherry, you are a strange girl,” she said with admiration.
“And so are you, Miss Kelley,” Sherry said with equal affection.
***
“She is ill?” Lady St Claire asked anxiously. “We should get the doctor here to look at her.”
Gregory shook his head. “She was most adamant that we not call the doctor,” he said firmly.
Lady St Claire sighed at her son. She put her hands on her hips. “The woman probably only knows butchers who pretend to be doctors,” Lady St Claire said reasonably. “We need to send for my personal physician.”
Gregory sighed, “I am not a child, Mother. I am the Duke of Thornton, and I said that we will not be calling a doctor. If that does not please you, then I can step down, and Fredrick can take my place.”
Lady St Claire regarded Gregory with irritation. “There is no need to play the actor, Gregory,” she admonished. “I just want to know the young woman is okay.”
“Sherry is with her, and if anything changes, she will let me know,” Gregory said as if the matter was closed.
Lady St Claire nodded and agreed, “Fine. I will go make an appearance. Several people were expecting to see the newly betrothed couple tonight, so I’ll need to have my speech at the ready.”
“I am quite certain that me staying by the side of my stricken beloved is quite enough of a story to satisfy even the most sadistic of your friends,” Gregory said as he picked up a pen from his father’s desk. “Could you tell Fredrick to come here if you see him on your way out?”
Lady St Claire mumbled, “Of course. Might as well treat me like a servant. Are you going to put me out to pasture this coming year as well?”
“The thought had crossed my mind,” Gregory replied as he scratched down a couple of words on the letter he was writing. When he heard the door shut loudly, Gregory mumbled, “Well, that took long enough.”
***