Wages of Sin (Regency Rebelles Book 1)

by Jen Yates

  Until this moment he'd not allowed himself to dwell on the finality of what he was doing. Realizing this leave-taking with his brother in the dimly lit yard of a small village inn was likely the last time they’d see each other was more painful than he could’ve imagined.

  ‘Wait while I take Lou up to our room?’

  ‘Of course,’ Philip said, his voice gruff with feeling.

  True to his word, the landlord had waited up for them and Levi helped Lou out of the carriage and with an arm firmly about her waist led her into the inn.

  Her legs were weak but he decided against carrying her. He didn't want the landlord to remember her as very sick.

  He settled her chair by the hearth where a small fire threw warmth into their room.

  ‘Stay wrapped up,’ he whispered. ‘I'll go and get our luggage and see Phil off. I shan't be long.’

  When he came back, she hadn't moved, simply sat with her head against the back of the chair and her eyes closed.

  The landlord had followed him back upstairs with a tray of tea and small cakes. Thanking him, Levi gratefully closed their door.

  Alone at last. It was as precious as he’d thought it would be as he gently removed Lou’s cloak and gown and helped her into her night-rail. She was so weak and her cheeks were constantly wet with tears.

  Please God, he didn’t come to regret this night’s work.

  ‘I love you, Lou, and we’re together. We have each other and no one will separate us ever again. We can create our life how we want it to be.’

  ‘God, Levi, I never thought it would hurt so much,’ she whispered, her face as white as the pillows she lay against.

  Ruthlessly repressing the terror that wanted to overtake him, Levi said, ‘It’ll ease with time, love. Each day as we live our lives together, it’ll get easier.’

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘I promise.’

  And he’d keep that promise, whatever the cost.

  Chapter 13.

  Dearest Caro,

  You must burn this letter the moment you’ve read it. And you must never breathe a word of what I will reveal here. But I couldn't let you believe such a monstrous lie. That would be to deny all we’ve been to each other. I couldn't let you grieve when I was not really dead. I’m sure there may come days when I’ll wish I had died, for already I feel so grieved at leaving—and yet I love Levi so much, being with him is all I've ever dreamed of—

  Liberty stared into the fire burning in the grate in their room at the inn at Richmond. They'd been here a week and finally she was feeling more like herself.

  A knock came at the door.

  It couldn't be Levi yet. He'd gone to the docks to arrange their passage to America and he wouldn't be back until dinnertime. He'd hated leaving her but in another week she felt she’d be ready to travel and he'd been glad to set in motion this next step of their adventure.

  ‘Who is it?’ she called out.

  ‘Goldie.’

  ‘Goldie?’ Liberty threw the door open and embraced her maid. ‘Dear God, it's good to see you.’

  ‘And to see you looking so much better,’ Goldie answered, flushing a little at the exuberance of Liberty's greeting.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Liberty asked, pulling her into the room and shutting the door.

  ‘First, I'm here because Lord Henry asked me to come. Your Mama gave me a lovely reference and your Papa was—very generous. Then they suggested I could help myself to your clothing and things—take what I thought you might find useful and bring it to you. It would look as if I was taking it for myself—seeing as we are similar in height and build. None of it would fit Lady Charity anyway. Now you have proper luggage to travel with.’

  ‘Oh Goldie, thank you.’

  It was a measure of how ill she’d been that she hadn’t really given any thought to anything beyond the joy of being with Levi. And dealing with the grief that assailed her when she thought of leaving England, her family. Justin—

  Of being dead. It was as if some intrinsic part of her had actually died and she’d begun to wonder if she’d ever truly feel like herself again.

  Levi was her strength and she clung to him.

  ‘I've engaged a room here and your trunks have been taken there so they appear to be mine. Mr. Longfellow could fetch them later.’

  ‘You’re staying here?’

  It was pathetic how pleasing she found that simple fact.

  ‘I was hoping—you'd still want to employ me—maybe take me with you to America? I—realize you may not be able to afford to pay me now—but both Lord Henry and Lord Justin made certain I would want for little for some time—I even thought I might set up in business in America—as a modiste. I rather fancy being an independent woman.’

  A great feeling of relief washed all through Liberty then. She hadn’t realized how inadequate she felt for the life that lay before her. She would learn. There was no doubt in her mind of that. But until she did, she was going to be a terrible burden to Levi.

  If Goldie came with them—

  She felt as if a large, dark cloud had moved off the sun, flooding her world with light.

  ‘If you came with us, I think I could cope. I've been worrying so about how I would go on. About the only skill I have that might be useful in America is the ability to ride. I'm going to have to learn so much. Levi is so resourceful, so—strong in every way and I've been an absolute watering pot. You wouldn't think I now had everything I’ve wanted for so long.’

  Liberty dropped down onto the bed and waved Goldie to the chair.

  ‘Reality rarely resembles the dream, my lady. I've long wished for a different life—to travel—and be independent. Will it be as wonderful as I'm thinking? I have no idea—but nor will I know unless I try. We've been handed an opportunity, my lady, and I for one don't intend to die wondering where it might have led. I know you probably feel you weren’t given a choice—once again—but well, you do have a choice, if you don't mind my plain speaking, my lady. Whether you embrace this chance you've been given, or fight against it is a choice you can make.’

  ‘My choice,’ Liberty breathed, feeling the freedom of those two words filtering through the whole of her being. ‘Thank you, Goldie. I needed someone to remind me of that, to point out I do have a choice. It might not be the one I thought I wanted—but it is one that can make a difference. And you must please stop addressing me as ‘my lady’, or ‘Lady’ anything. Not even Libby or Liberty. I am plain Mrs. Lou Longfellow now. Levi has always called me Lou—so that's who I am now. Mrs. Longfellow is a terrible mouthful—which is why we always called his Mama ‘Longie’. I’d like it if you’d just be my friend and called me Lou. Going into this life with one other person we know makes it feel so much more—possible. Now, let's order a tea tray and you can tell me what has been happening at home.’

  ‘Oh,’ Goldie muttered. ‘How could I forget? Here—this might help—–or make things worse. I'm not sure which. But I’ll go and order tea—and perhaps something to eat. I've only had a snack in the carriage since leaving Stannesford.’

  Liberty was already lost in the packet of letters Goldie had handed her.

  It felt more precious than any amount of gold or jewels. Letters from Mama, Charity, Longie, Justin—and even Papa.

  She would start with Justin’s for it would be the shortest, then Papa's, the contents of which she had no hope of predicting.

  And they would all become her most treasured possessions going forward into her new life.

  Justin’s labored scribble brought blinding tears to her eyes and she had to hold the paper away in case they fell and blotted out one precious love-inscribed letter of his message.

  There was no arguing her husband's love had become precious, if for no other reason than he was prepared to sacrifice it to her happiness.

  LOVE U LIB. ALWAYS. MY BLSNGS GO WITH U. B HAPY. J. xx.

  Goldie was back before Liberty had her emotions under control again.

  That short
note evoked so many memories, so many milestones in her own growth into womanhood. Justin’s courtly attentions and endless patience and love; the gifts he’d showered on her in his efforts to show her that love. Gifts of his time and attention, not just material things; the day she’d come to realize she actually cared for him; the terrible moment of his collapse in the carriage; the many minute steps he’d taken on the road to recovery, each one feeling like a giant leap forward; the knowledge that if he'd died as she’d told him she wanted on their wedding night, she would’ve felt bereft.

  The world would be a poorer place without Justin in it.

  ‘My lady—Lou, now you're looking worse than when I arrived.’

  Liberty sniffed inelegantly and wiped her eyes.

  ‘I just read Justin’s message. I didn't appreciate what a caring, giving—considerate man he is. Even now—he just wants me to be happy. I hope Papa understands all of that for—without Justin I probably would have courted irrevocable scandal with Levi—long before—’

  ‘I don't think you need to worry about that,’ Goldie said, settling herself in the chair alongside Liberty. ‘Isn't there a letter from Lord Henry as well?’

  ‘I was going to read it next—but I was crying too hard. Did you see Justin before you left?’

  Sometimes life could be so cruel. Now she had Levi and her heart was breaking for Justin.

  ‘Yes. I know he wanted to say so much, but it's so difficult for him. In the end we had to leave it at ‘tell Lib love her—and Levi’.

  ‘And Levi!’ Liberty echoed in a faint wail. ‘See what I mean? He even professes love for Levi. He’s a saint and I feel so selfish.’

  ‘That's not what he wanted, L—Lou. I think he may also have been trying to say ‘be free’.’

  The tea tray arrived and Goldie poured, adding a half teaspoon of sugar to Liberty’s cup.

  ‘I know you don't usually take sugar, but sometimes a body needs the uplift. Shall I leave you to read your other letters?’

  ‘No. It's good to have you here. Left to myself it's too easy to fall into a well of darkness and then—I don't seem to have the strength to drag myself out. I don't know what's wrong with me. Being with Levi is all I’ve longed for—since I was ten years old.’

  ‘You've been at death's door—and not so long ago—is what's wrong,’ Goldie said. ‘Of course you have no strength. And you’re pregnant.’

  With a heavy exhale, Liberty smoothed out her father's precisely folded missive, the sight of his strong cursive penmanship blurring her eyes all over again. Dashing the tears away from her lashes she began to read.

  Daughter,

  I know you lay the blame for all that is wrong in your life at my door, and I will not deny your rights in that, but given it all to do again I would likely follow the same course. However, I would like to think I’d make a better effort to show you I love you regardless. I have had the example of an amazing man, a long-time friend and now my son-in-law. I think I never understood what love was, except perhaps as it pertained to your mother. Showing her love has been easy because she understands me so well—and I her. I’m able to show her my love and don't have to verbalize it. This letter is to make sure you know I love each and every one of my children because you are born of the love I have for your mother. You are the essence of that love, if you will. I have taken a great risk and doubtless committed a serious crime in having you declared dead. I had forbidden myself and your mother and Charity from any further communication with you for this reason. But since Levi’s decision to sell up and make a life for himself in the new world is common knowledge and his mother will be able to receive communications from him I decided to set all our minds at rest and encourage him to write to Longie to keep us all informed of how you go on. Then she will be able to inform him of news from home. Even in this he must be careful how he refers to you. But one thing I will say about Levi, he is an intelligent, talented man. I trust him to do all in his power to keep you safe and make you happy. I could have welcomed him as a son in the law had he not been the son of the miller—

  There was more. It was the only letter she'd ever received from her father and it made her long to crawl into his arms, snuggle into his familiar scent of bergamot and cinnamon—and butterflies—and tell him, just once, that she loved him too and she understood now, the meaning of choices.

  Once made, a choice must be lived with.

  Oh yes. She understood now.

  ‘Is Mama managing, Goldie?’

  ‘I'm not sure. I think she was crying a lot—but that's not a bad thing since for all the world knows, you’re dead. And Lady Verity is causing a problem, dancing about and saying she knows you're not dead.’

  ‘Of course Very would know. I'm surprised Papa even thought he could fool her. It would likely have been better to tell her the truth and take the chance on her ability to keep the secret. Lord, I hope Papa can handle her and that he doesn't simply alienate her with his orders and demands. Nothing works with Verity when she knows.’

  ‘True,’ Goldie agreed, ‘but I think they’re keeping her away from all visitors, saying she's terribly upset. Which she would be if she wasn't so certain.’

  ***

  Anxiety drove him as it did whenever he was away from Lou. He hated leaving her alone at the inn, but rest was essential for her at this point and they couldn't risk her being seen by anyone who might recognize her. They could not relax on that front until they were well out of England.

  He urged the mediocre hired hack he rode into a reluctant trot. He just wanted to be with Lou—able to look at her, hold her, talk to her—be with her.

  Was three more weeks long enough for her to recuperate before the voyage? Didn't people take sea voyages for their health?

  He could only hope they were doing the right thing—not that there was really any choice.

  It was only a bloody hotel, but he'd never been so happy to see a place—to be home. Because home was now wherever Lou was.

  Bounding up the staircase, he knocked and called out.

  ‘Open up, Lou. It's me.’

  The door opened and Liberty’s maid stood before him.

  ‘Goldie? You've come? Praise be.’

  ‘I have, Levi. I've brought luggage for La—Lou—and letters.’

  ‘Good,’ he said, stepping into the room, searching for the one person he longed to see.

  She was sitting in the chair where he had left her, a sheaf of letters in her hands, her eyes the brightest he'd seen them in weeks.

  His Lou was back.

  If Goldie had done that for her, he hoped the woman would agree to travel with them.

  ‘You have letters, Lou?’

  Suddenly her eyes were bright with tears, but he thought at last, perhaps they were happy tears.

  ‘Yes. Even from Papa—and Justin. And Goldie has come. She wants to come with us to America. And—somehow—that makes me feel strong enough. Were you able to get us a berth?’

  ‘I did—on the Mary Madison, a very nice cabin, the most comfortable they had, and she sails three weeks from today. That should give you time to get really well again. Only trouble is, you’ll be confined to this room until then. Will you manage?’

  ‘If you're here with me.’

  Her eyes were sparkling, dancing with lights of wickedness.

  Oh, his Lou was definitely back—and that was all it took to have the blood leaping in his veins.

  Down boy, he counseled himself sternly.

  It was little more than a week since she'd hung on the cusp of life and death. He wasn't about to squander this chance they'd been given by jeopardizing her health with his lusty demands. He'd long since learnt to control his body's urges.

  But that glint in her eyes told him he might have to be firm in his resolve to continue treating her as an invalid.

  ‘Goldie wants to come to America with us—and then she'd like to set up in business—she thinks,’ she said again, as if he might’ve missed it the first time.

>   ‘I can pay my own way,’ Goldie put in. ‘Lord Henry and Lord Justin were both very generous to me. I thought I could just help L—Lou get settled and then—’

  Levi felt a weight he hadn't fully acknowledged until that moment, shift off his shoulders. He’d been totally focused on Lou’s health.

  She’d been raised as a lady, in expectation of living in a fine house with servants to provide for her every need. He had no doubts of her willingness to share whatever level of comfort he could provide, but he didn't think she had any idea what might really be required of her, living life at a much more basic level in a strange country. He doubted she knew how to light a fire, much less cook on one.

  While Goldie’s skills in daily survival were probably no greater than her mistress's, she would at least be the moral support Lou might need—at the beginning of their adventure anyway.

  ‘If you’d continue to assist Lou, I’ll pay your fare to America. We can reassess all our needs once we arrive.’

  ‘That's a very fair offer. Thank you.’

  ‘Good, now, would you like to dine with us here? And then—well—’

  Heat crept into his cheeks, but he needed to make the woman understand what would be required—and what wouldn't.

  ‘—your assistance helping Lou in the mornings would be appreciated but—she won't have need of you after dinner at night.’

  ‘I won't?’ Lou asked, and God damn, that was heat in her eyes and he sent her a level look, carefully avoiding Goldie’s gaze.

  ‘You have to admit I've become quite adept at getting you out of your clothes and somewhat—less so—at dressing you again in the mornings.’

  He was lost if her eyes began to glow with emerald fire.

  ‘Trouble is, my love,’ she smiled up at him with spurious innocence, ‘you are too easily distracted when trying to dress me—and now we're embarrassing Goldie, which is hardly fair.’

  When the maid left them after dinner and the landlady had been in to remove the trays, the door had barely clicked shut before Lou was in his lap, her arms around his neck and her mouth fastened to his.