She looked away. She didn’t need to stare at a picture to know that work was hard. For every carefree day in the sunshine she had spent with a man she loved, Lucy had spent a hundred days at a desk. A thousand days.
Ruby and the other women were awake by the time she was shown back to her cell. Lucy didn’t even have the energy to smile as she crossed the room and sat on her thin mattress. Ruby sat down beside her, saying nothing but reaching out to hold Lucy’s hand. Lucy felt almost guilty accepting comfort from her.
“I don’t know how you can stand it here,” Lucy whispered.
“What choice do I have?”
She sighed. No, Ruby hadn’t had many choices in life. She had been taken out of school at the age of twelve to work in a shoelace factory, and the father of her baby had been the married, middle-aged manager of the factory. Ruby disliked him but did what she believed was necessary to keep her job.
It was a demoralizing thought. Lucy’s life had been full of choices, but throughout it all, she’d marched in lockstep determination to bring Uncle Thomas down. She could have been like the women in Dr. Schroeder’s photographs had she chosen love over retribution for a forty-year-old injustice. The resentment fueling her crusade against the Saratoga Drakes had never given her a sliver of the happiness she saw in those paintings.
She flopped back on her cot to stare at the water stain on the ceiling. Today it looked like the woman was weeping on her knees.
A noise at the slot signaled the arrival of breakfast, and Ruby crossed the room to retrieve it. Lucy dragged her attention from the water stain and rolled upright. She felt too demoralized to swallow the gloppy oatmeal.
Ruby stood holding the tray in confusion. “This is odd . . . lemon cookies for breakfast?”
She tilted the tray so Lucy could see. Instead of oatmeal, a dozen cookies were evenly spaced on a plate, their lemony yellow looking cheerful in the gloomy cell.
Lucy shot to her feet, too stunned to even move. Before she could speak, the slot opened again, and a narrow purple box filled the gap. She lunged across the room to grab the box with its familiar logo printed across the top. She held it out for Ruby to see.
“Cadbury chocolates?” Ruby gasped. “Now I think I really might be going crazy.”
Lucy swallowed hard, her heart pounding but not daring to hope. She knelt on the floor to peer through the slot, but before she could get a good look, a bundle of green stems almost poked her in the eye. She reared back and pulled the stems through, the bouquet of daisies scattering petals on the floor and looking bedraggled but still delightfully cheerful.
She opened the slot again. “Colin? Are you out there?”
“I certainly hope you don’t have other men courting you with flowers and chocolates in here.” He tossed it off in his most charming voice. Which was a relief, because it meant he was in a good mood and this ordeal was about to come to an end.
She trembled so much she could barely get the words out. “Do you have a key? Am I getting out of here?”
Instead of answering, a click sounded in the lock, and the door pushed open. His smile was brighter than the sun, and he held a telegram aloft. “The Secret Service has everything they need. You are free.”
She vaulted into his arms, and they clamped like steel bands around her back and lifted her from the ground. A sense of well-being flowed from Colin’s warm strength and into her.
“You can’t be in here!” Betty shrieked. “It’s against the rules.”
“Hush, Betty,” Lucy murmured, not even lifting her head from Colin’s shoulder. Amazingly, Betty retreated without complaint to sit on her cot and sing into her palm.
“Is it really over?” she asked, afraid to even hope.
“Sergeant Palmer is downstairs arresting Dr. Schroeder as we speak. He offered to let me witness the event, but I wanted to get you out of here as soon as possible. If there’s anything you want to bring, collect it now. A carriage is waiting for us downstairs.”
“There’s nothing I want from here.”
“What about me?” Ruby demanded, her voice hard.
Lucy caught her breath, momentarily speechless. Had she grown so callous in these few days that she could walk away and leave an obviously sane girl imprisoned in this madhouse? She looked at Colin. “Is there something we can do for her? She doesn’t belong here.”
Colin grew somber. “I have a feeling there are plenty of people who don’t belong here. It’s only a matter of time before a full investigation is done.”
Ruby stepped forward, her chin thrust at a defiant angle. “I’m not waiting. I’m walking out of here with you, and if you want to see crazy, just try to stop me.”
Colin’s eyes widened a little, for Ruby appeared ready to ignite at the suggestion she would be forced to remain in this cell even another minute. “Let’s go, then,” he conceded.
They left the chocolates and flowers for Betty and the woman whose name Lucy had never learned.
As Ruby predicted, no one tried to stop her on their way out the door.
Chapter
Twenty-three
Colin couldn’t understand Lucy’s strange malaise. After the exhilaration of leaving Ridgemoor, her mood sobered quickly, and she became withdrawn and distant. Nick had provided him with clothes for her, and they went across the street to the pharmacy so she could change into something respectable as soon as possible.
The thin, tough-looking girl named Ruby looked painfully out of place in her shapeless smock as she fidgeted next to the display counter. The shop next door had a few ready-made dresses for women, and he took pity on her and bought her the smallest dress they had. It was so big it looked ready to slip off her bony shoulders, but the moment she was decently clothed, Ruby wanted to leave.
“Where will you go?” Lucy asked.
“Don’t worry about me. I can look after myself. There’s a church at the end of the street. I’ll start there.”
Before Ruby could make it to the door, Lucy stepped forward to hug the girl, who didn’t seem to want the attention.
“I’ll be on my way now.” Ruby pushed out of Lucy’s embrace. She met his gaze with a brief nod. “Thanks for the dress,” she said before heading out the door without looking back.
Lucy looked bereft after Ruby left, standing in the middle of the pharmacy. “What now?” she asked.
“Now we go to Albany so we can both witness Tom Jr.’s well-deserved takedown. The Secret Service are going to arrest him later today.”
“Oh.”
What was wrong with her? Shouldn’t she be deliriously happy and running for the nearest train station to savor her cousin’s downfall? Witnessing Tom’s arrest was going to be more than a political necessity. It was going to be a pleasure, and Lucy deserved a front row seat.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. It looked like the waif who’d just left hadn’t eaten in months, and perhaps Lucy’s bewildering lack of energy was simple hunger.
“Yes . . . yes, I’d like something to eat.”
“Excellent. We’ll need to hurry in order to catch the twelve o’clock train. What are you in the mood for?”
For the first time since leaving the asylum, she laughed a little. “Anything besides a bowl of oatmeal or a plate of beans.” It was a relief to see that the muscles in her face remembered how to smile. He’d been worried there for a moment.
Ten minutes later, they were seated at the back of a hotel restaurant. It was only ten o’clock, so the dining room was almost empty, and they had plenty of privacy to discuss the Secret Service’s plan to arrest the remaining conspirators. Everything was going to happen quickly. News of Dr. Schroeder’s arrest could only be suppressed for twenty-four hours, and the instant Tom Jr. got wind of it, he might go on the run and foil the carefully constructed plan to bring him down.
Lucy seemed strangely disinterested in hearing about the plan. Instead of pouncing on him for details the moment they were seated, she fingered the edge of the tablecloth, leaned forward
to sniff the chrysanthemums in the table’s centerpiece, and even peeked under the table to scrutinize the brass feet on the bottom of the table legs.
“I’ve never seen table legs with clawed feet,” she said. When it appeared she was about to leave her seat for a better view, he grabbed her hand to stop her.
“Forgive me, but we have a great deal of business to discuss. We’re taking the twelve o’clock train to Albany, and you need to know what’s going on.”
Did she just roll her eyes at him? He couldn’t tell, because she quickly looked away to reach for a water glass, taking a deep drink while averting her gaze. He bit his tongue while waiting for her to set down the blasted glass. She still didn’t look at him, just traced the patterns on the damask tablecloth.
“Agent Wilkes from the Secret Service took over the planning of the takedown operation,” he began. “This afternoon, Tom is competing for the Galliard Cup, and his entire family will be on hand to watch.”
The Galliard Cup was held each Fourth of July at the Albany Sporting Club. Drawing competitors from the entire East Coast, it was the most prestigious shooting event outside of the Olympics. It would draw lavish newspaper coverage, which was why the Secret Service decided to delay the arrest until the competition. They wanted plenty of publicity for foiling the plot. Best of all, Colin would be awarding the trophies and thus would play a prime role in bringing Tom down.
“I had to pull some strings. The Secret Service didn’t want to risk Tom seeing you, since he assumes you are still locked up at Ridgemoor. It took some persuading, but I got them to agree that you of all people deserve to witness the event. They said you can watch everything from the private office near the stadium.”
“Do I have to?”
He rocked back in his chair, stunned. “Of course you have to! You’ll never forgive yourself if you aren’t there to witness the final act.” When she shifted uneasily and glanced at the exit of the restaurant, realization hit him, and he felt like an insensitive idiot. He reached out to cover her hand with his own. “There’s no need to be afraid. We’ll have eight Secret Service officers and a dozen policemen on hand. You’ll be perfectly safe.”
“I’m not afraid of Tom. I just don’t want to be there. You can handle everything from here to the end, can’t you?”
Before he could respond, a waiter arrived with two bowls of mushroom soup. Colin clamped his mouth shut, anxious for the waiter to finish grinding pepper over Lucy’s bowl so that he could go back to shaking some sense into her.
When they were alone again, he leaned forward to speak in an urgent whisper. “Pull yourself together. All you have to do is finish your lunch, come with me to the train station, and then follow my lead. This is what you’ve been waiting for all your life.”
“That’s rather sad, isn’t it?”
He didn’t know how to respond. She couldn’t have seemed more disinterested as she toyed with her spoon, dragging swirls in the pepper atop her soup.
This was unbelievable. Lucy had brought him into this scheme to take down the Saratoga branch of her family, and now she wanted no part of it? He’d had a sleepless three nights in order to man the pharmacy’s telegraph station. He’d given himself an ulcer worrying about her and had a blister on the side of his thumb from sending her messages with Nick’s flashlight. Which he still didn’t know if Lucy had even seen, for she hadn’t bothered to mention it. Which might be a good thing, since fear had driven him to confess that he loved her. Maybe that was best left unspoken, but he needed to know if she had seen that message.
“When you were in the asylum, by chance did you ever glance out the window and see the messages I sent using your brother’s flashlight?”
“Yes.”
He held his breath. She was the only woman he’d confessed love for, and this was exquisitely awful. “Were any of them particularly interesting to you?”
“I remember a lot of updates on cricket scores.”
The silence stretched until it became obvious she did not intend to add anything else.
“That’s all you remember?”
Her face crumpled a little, and she sent him a sad smile. “No . . . I saw them all. They were my lifeline. Every one of them is carved on my heart.”
“Then why are you acting so cold?”
“I can say it in one word.” He leaned forward, and she met his gaze directly. “Whitefriars.”
His eyes narrowed. “What about Whitefriars?”
“You’re going to sell your soul for that estate, and it breaks my heart to see it.”
He threw down his spoon and dragged out his pocket watch. “Look, we don’t have time for this. Are you hungry? You haven’t touched your soup, so if you aren’t hungry, we should be on our way. We might even be able to catch an earlier train.” He stood, but she remained frozen in place. “Say something!” he finally burst out.
“Are you still seeing Amelia Wooten?”
The question took him aback. “You know I am not.”
“Colin, please . . .” Her voice was so soft he could barely hear it. “Please don’t sacrifice yourself for money. I lost the best years of my life to a ridiculous lawsuit, and I have nothing to show for it. You just said that I spent my whole life waiting to see the Saratoga Drakes brought low, and you’re right. And I’ve suddenly realized how horrible that makes me. I lost my soul over it.”
He had the strangest feeling that he wasn’t looking at Lucy. This lost, broken woman was someone else. He sat back down and leaned forward, speaking in a low, bewildered tone.
“What did they do to you in there?” He dreaded the answer but needed to know.
Lucy had the oddest expression on her face, as though she couldn’t decide if she was about to laugh or weep. “They showed me pretty pictures,” she said. “Pictures of a man holding a woman, a mother nursing a child. The women in those pictures seemed so safe and content. Nurtured. It made me realize how barren my life has become. My world revolves around the next court date or attempts to evade my uncle’s machinations. The women in those pictures had everything I’ve always longed for but never had. When Dr. Schroeder showed me those pictures, I wanted to step inside one of them and forget about the Saratoga Drakes. Those pictures made me realize that nothing I’ve done in my life amounts to very much.”
Colin shook his head. “He showed you a fantasy, not the real world. Those pictures showed a single glimpse of intimacy and tenderness, but don’t let that fool you. The real world is filled with challenges and obligations, and if you are very lucky, perhaps a little bit of joy to light your path. That’s what you’ve been for me, Lucy. You’ve made every hour of each day a little more joyful. Just knowing you are out there gives a lift to my day . . . but make no mistake. People like you and me aren’t free to step into a fantasy life or withdraw from the responsibilities of the world. We have obligations and heavy lifting, because there are Thomas Drakes in the world, and they will trample on helpless Italian widows or girls named Ruby if people like you aren’t there to stop them.”
She remained motionless, but a gleam lit in her eyes. He redoubled his effort, for this battle was too important to lose. She would regret it for the rest of her life if she didn’t cross the finish line in this particular race.
“Three weeks ago, you noticed a message that might indicate someone’s life was in danger. Every rational instinct in your body told you to ignore it, but you couldn’t. You have a huge and generous heart that wouldn’t let you look the other way, so you risked your job, you risked imprisonment and financial ruin to take action. Because of you, we’ve got a small army of policemen and Secret Service officers ready to dismantle a plot that threatened the president of the United States. By letting yourself be locked up, you allowed Tom to feel safe and lead the Secret Service to all four of his coconspirators. You’ve done what was necessary, and of course you don’t have to go to Albany. You’ve paid a higher price than any of us and can return home to your safe world. But the final act of the play is
about to take place, and I want you to be there.”
The tension drained from Lucy’s face, and she looked at him with new eyes. Happy eyes. It was as if a switch had been pulled and a surge of energy illuminated her. She looked so fresh and pretty that it was impossible to stop the smile from spreading across his face. Her next words brought it all crashing down.
“I’m not going,” she said, confidence in her voice. “Don’t you see, Colin? I don’t need this anymore. I’ve wasted the best years of my life wallowing in resentment and anger. My only goal in life was to bring down the Saratoga Drakes, and it brought no happiness, only frustration and a life of loneliness. When I realized what Tom Jr.’s telegram messages meant, it became vital that I stop him, and thanks to you and the Secret Service, that’s going to happen. But I’m done. I don’t care anymore.”
This would never do. He needed to shake Lucy out of this strange mood and get her back in the game. He pushed the centerpiece of chrysanthemums aside to see her better. “You can’t stop now. The Saratoga Drakes swindled your father and your grandfather. They’ve robbed poor people of the simple dignity of having hot water piped up to their apartments. They put your father in a lunatic asylum. They shot my birds!”
Lucy’s tone was wistful. “And they cost me ten years and a thousand sleepless nights.” She paused as emotion flickered across her face. “No, they didn’t cost me those things; I did. I’m not going to let it cost me another day. Not another hour. My brother has wanted to abandon this case for a long time, but I couldn’t let it go. Now I can, and it’s like . . .” Her gaze trailed out the window, a look of unquenchable longing and hope lighting her from within.
“I feel like I’m about to take flight. The sun is breaking through the clouds, and I can’t ever remember feeling this happy.” Her voice bubbled with barely suppressed laughter and a hint of bewilderment, as though this moment was as much a surprise to her as to him. “It’s like a mountain has been lifted from my shoulders, and for the first time in my life I can see the abundance God has given me. I can draw a breath of pure, clean air, and nothing has ever smelled sweeter. I’ve been admiring that etching of a pair of sparrows on the wall, and it occurs to me I’ve never enrolled in the bird-watching class in Central Park. I’ve wanted to go for years but never found the time. I want to start appreciating the simple blessings that are all around me. I want to find a husband and do things that normal women my age do. The Saratoga Drakes won’t drag me down anymore, because I won’t let them. So I can’t go to Albany with you. There are too many other things I want to do with my life.”
A Dangerous Legacy Page 25