In the morning, Marilee felt better by leaps and bounds. The wounds were not so angry, and the fever seemed to have abated. Lady Lydia had returned to the house since her problem had appeared to have been solved by her negotiations with the solicitor. Marilee was never called to dress her, however, for the lady remained abed.
She did not even come down when she received an unexpected visit from her betrothed. Marilee was shocked to find out that Lady Lydia was engaged since Marilee had never seen the man.
“Is it this Lord Edward she always speaks of?” she asked Peggy while they warmed their porridge by the fires.
“Ha!” Peggy snorted. “Not at all. His brother, Lord Robert, well I suppose he is Lord Bennington now, or Your Grace. He is the duke now since his father is dead.” Peggy explained how the pair had been matched since childhood and it was well-known that while Lady Lydia played her part, she despised the man.
“Why would she consent to marry him then?” Marilee wondered. Certainly, Lady Lydia was not the type to be forced into a union. Although, Marilee had never thought Miss Caroline would be forced, and that is exactly what had happened.
“Because he is the Duke of Manchester, that’s why!” Peggy giggled.
Marilee spat out her tea. The Duke of Manchester was dead. He had died not ten feet from her carriage door. She still had nightmares about the scene and woke in a cold sweat as she worried that, having been witness to the deed, she and Miss Caroline would meet a similar end. She stared now at Peggy.
Peggy continued, having thought Marilee’s reaction natural for one having just learned of Lady Lydia’s title chasing. Marilee still could not tell her of her connection to the family, or more particularly the death of the gentleman, for fear of repercussions to Miss Caroline who was still being held in parts unknown. “Lady Lydia is determined to be a duchess, one way or the other, though she would have preferred Lord Edward by far to the elder brother, Robert. The younger son is devilishly handsome and the duke… well, he is a bit rougher around the edges if you get my meaning.”
Not as handsome, Marilee surmised.
“And he was scarred by the war,” Peggy supplied. “Everyone thought he was dead.”
“But then, they were honorable wounds,” Marilee said.
When Peggy nodded, Marilee felt that the fates had been twice crossed against her. If Lord Bennington had known that his eldest had lived, he would have never required Miss Caroline’s hand, or rather her production of a suitable heir. Suitable being relative, since Lord Edward would have been the true heir, useless or no. But the old duke had wanted a new son to train up in his methods of calculating manipulation and devilry since he said his younger son would not suit. If this gentleman had made his reveal but a few weeks earlier, then both Marilee and Miss Caroline would still be back home in the safe comforts of Northwick. Fate had been unkind to them both.
“So her betrothed is alive?” Marilee pressed.
“It appears so,” Peggy grinned. “One can only guess that the news may be the reason for her outrage yesterday. She had thought herself free of him and still in line for the title of duchess by marrying the younger brother, and now, the elder stands in the way. Even the evil must get their just rewards.”
Marilee pondered the situation. If the late duke’s son had truly returned, then her own situation was all the better for it. It made one more person who would search for answers about the old duke’s untimely death and the attack of the highwaymen. One more person who would search for Miss Caroline’s, and thereby Marilee’s, captors and fulfillment of the ransoms. Surely the new duke would not let such a random act go unchecked. His father had been murdered, and the eldest son, not killed in war as suspected. Strange happenings were afoot.
Marilee ate her porridge in silence while she listened to Peggy’s gossip. Ever since their most recent encounter with Mr. Crowley the laundress’s spirits had seemed bolstered. She had pondered at length Peggy’s acceptance of the help the man had offered and decided that it could be done with caution. Marilee may have been witness to a murder, but she was also witness to the many atrocities of this house.
Marilee was unsure if Lady Lydia’s father actually was involved or not. She had never seen the man, and Lady Lydia, if she could be believed, said his brain was addled. Marilee was inclined to believe her. Surely if the lord of the house had his faculties, none of this would be happening, or he would have taken a bigger part in it, if he too were a villain. Marilee shook her head with frustration and thought, if nothing else they could help to bring down Lord Edward and Lady Lydia through their wayward accounts. By doing so, they could hope to save all the girls who had been imprisoned in the Blackwell household, but they would have to be careful.
After their freedom was ensured, she could search for Miss Caroline, so long as her own involvement remained undiscovered. That, was not too much to ask for the sake of innocents. Mr. Crowley was only after proof of the wrongdoing as pertained to finances, she decided. He knew nothing of the murder of the duke and his men. Even if he did, Marilee did not think that it was tied to this wrongdoing against women. The madam at the brothel had seemed more than put out by her men’s misdeeds. They may have been thugs and vagabonds, but they did not seem to have the intelligence and foresight of intentional murders. They were not supposed to have murdered a duke; she was sure. Rob a carriage perhaps, but not murder a duke, and they certainly were not supposed to have taken two ladies hostage. It had been mere bad luck that their carriage had taken that path that fateful night. They had not even meant to be on that road.
As terrible as Lady Lydia may be, Marilee had seen nothing to indicate that the lady was that evil. She had been gleeful, yes, at the notice of the duke’s death, but that was likely the result of stepping closer to the title and her relationship with Lord Edward. After all, the old duke was not a pleasant sort of fellow. Of this fact, Marilee was well aware. Although Marilee and Miss Caroline had not wished the old man dead, they certainly would not, and did not shed tears at his passing. So it was that Marilee had decided to hold her own truths in check. Until she was certain that Miss Caroline was safe, there could be no revelation of her witness to the murders. No hint that she desired retribution for the deed. If even a whisper reached the thugs or the madam, then they were likely to cut all ties and finish her. No, until the ransoms were fulfilled, she could not reveal that she was anything more than a poor indentured servant. She would help the young Mr. Crowley, but with caution, because it was clear he knew about stolen goods and turned a blind eye. How much could she trust him when even the smallest misstep could wreak catastrophic results?
“Peggy,” she began, though not knowing exactly how to warn her friend of the intense need for caution. “We do not really know this Mr. Crowley. We must have discretion in what we tell him lest it fall back to us for the punishment. He does, after all, work for Lady Lydia.”
Peggy pondered Marilee’s words and then nodded. “True, but he seems a genuine sort, and he did help you and Lucy. And he does not work for them so much as he is tasked with seeing to the paperwork involved in their shipping endeavors or so he explained to me while you slept.”
Marilee bit her lip. She could not reveal that she thought the shipping endeavors were actually stolen goods without revealing the whole of her story. Perhaps, Peggy deserved that truth, but Marilee didn’t want to put that burden upon her just yet and even if Mr. Crowley was genuine, he was exceedingly idealistic.
“He did help Lucy and myself, and for that I owe him my gratitude,” Marilee nodded, “but I’ll not put my own life at risk because he has some naïve thought that he can right the wrongs of the world by revealing the duplicities of a peer. How many lords and ladies are corrupt? How many beat their servants and toss them away without a thought? How many have debt and duplicitous financial dealings? How many are truly as good as they would like us all to believe?”
Marilee felt a bit of shame at her statement. Miss Caroline was kind. She was a good employer and an honest lady. She was everything Marilee had ever hoped for in a friend as well as an employer, but Marilee had no illusions to the fact that those traits were not commonplace in the highborn. Miss Caroline’s father was a fair leader, a smart landowner, but even he had grown cold and distant when he had once been a warm and loving man. Time and circumstance changes people, she thought. Even herself. She found that she had become much less trusting and more cynical since her incarceration here.
Even Marilee’s house of employ prior to Gravesend Manor had been harsh and firm in their management. Oh, they had been nothing compared to Lady Lydia, but they had not been kind. They had hardly viewed their servants as people, merely tools for their own leisure. That, she had decided, was the norm and she had been fortunate to come across Miss Caroline when she had.
“No,” Peggy agreed, “they are not all kind or true.” The laundress fell silent for a long while and Marilee wondered where her thoughts had gone. Somewhere deep in the past, she suspected, because after a time a lone tear rolled down the brunette’s cheek.
“What is it?” Marilee asked.
“Do you really not think that Mr. Crowley can help us?” she asked after a time.
“I wish I could say that he could,” Marilee sighed. “But I am unsure. He is but one man, and I have never once heard of a family such as the Blackwells being unable to have their way either through payment or connections. Even if Mr. Crowley’s intentions are good, the Blackwells are gentry. He is not. I think he may be overly optimistic.”
“He is an idealist.” Peggy mused with a soft smile.
“That he is,” Marilee smiled in return. It was good to see that there were people in the world who had such positive views, but it was only a matter of time before his optimistic outlook was crushed by the harsh realities of the world. Marilee had learned as much one night on a dark highway road when thugs got away with murder in cold blood.
“Kate…” Peggy looked up at her with tear-filled eyes once more. “I have to get out of here. This is the first real hope that I have had in years, the first person who may truly be able to help.”
“We will,” Marilee promised, and she told herself that she believed it even though the words fell flat.
“Can I tell you something?” Peggy bit her lip and seemed to question whether she should proceed. “Something I have told no one in the whole of the time since I was taken?”
“Of course,” Marilee replied in earnest. She felt a twinge of guilt that Peggy wanted to be open with her, even when she herself was keeping a monumental secret. Some day she hoped to share the whole with Peggy, but she could not risk Miss Caroline’s life on supposition; not yet.
“I could tell no one. I could trust no one.” She bit her lip considering and Marilee waited patiently.
“I have a son,” Peggy said with a shy smile. “His name is Adam and He’ll be seven this spring.”
“Peggy!” Marilee exclaimed, completely floored by the admission. She did not think that Peggy could have been old enough to have a son of that age.
Peggy made a shushing noise and looked over her shoulder toward the door. “No one knows. I know they would have found a way to use him against me. But it has been four long years and I will never stop trying to get back to him.”
Marilee felt conflicting emotions. First, she was happy for Peggy, that she had so much pride and love for the little boy that she veritably beamed at the mention of him. Then, she was overcome with sadness. Four years kept away from her child. Four years trapped and not knowing how he fared, or if he would even remember her. Four years of keeping this secret; for Marilee knew without a doubt that threats to the child would have been used to keep Peggy compliant if anyone knew the secret. He would have been such a young age when she had disappeared. Marilee asked if he was with Peggy’s family, but she shook her head with a frown.
“My mother and father put me out when they found out I was with child,” she said in a whisper. “When they learned his father did not intend to claim him, I was ruined. You see, I do know that lords can be bad. I do know that they will always find a way to clear their own name and never look back at those of us that fall beneath their notice.”
“His father was gentry?” Marilee asked with bated breath.
Peggy nodded. “I thought he loved me, and I was daft enough to think that anything would come of it even if he did. His parents were furious; threatened to disown him. He was married shortly thereafter to a smart little thing, the daughter of a well-to-do merchant whose dowry resolved all of his father’s debts. He would never claim his son, that much was made very clear when he told my father that I was nothing more than a common whore and any man in the village could very well be the father of my child.” Peggy’s voice caught on the words. “How can one prove that they’ve only ever been with one man?”
“That is terrible,” Marilee gasped and gritted her teeth.
Peggy only shrugged one shoulder. “As you said, that is the way of things. Still, I need to find my son. I couldn’t care less about his father, but I will do anything to get Adam back.”
“You do not know where he is?”
Peggy winced. “I walked for weeks on foot until I came to the little town of Halthaven. It is a small village on the edge of a forest. I’m sure it is forgotten by time. I’m not even sure I could find it again. It was from there I was directed to Halthurst Abbey with the assurances that the nuns would care for me.”
“And they did?” Marilee asked.
Peggy nodded remembering. It was a peaceful place, and Sister Beatrice, the Abbess, was certainly a saint to take me in. It was there that I birthed the babe and there, they let me stay while I attempted to make something of myself.
“I had already been educated in reading and writing and the nuns thought I might be suited for a profession, but nothing came of it. Who would want a unwed mother teaching their children? So I practiced for several years under a local seamstress, but had no talent or eye for the art.
“The local village did not want me around, a young, unwed mother, so the abbess convinced me to travel to Kent to learn washing techniques. The convent’s old laundress had passed, and they needed a replacement. I had much to repay the good nuns, so I went.
“It was only meant to be a few months. The sisters offered to care for my son until my return. I was on my way back from Kent when I was taken. I’ve been here ever since.”
“Could your son still be at this Halthurst Abbey?” Marilee wondered but when Peggy’s face fell, she knew that she too doubted they had held the child for so many years.
“I would suspect that they thought I had abandoned him when I never returned from Kent, nor returned for him all these years.” Peggy’s features were crestfallen and Marilee’s heart broke for her friend. “Perhaps they thought I had meant to take advantage, use their charity to train myself up in a profession and start anew? I cannot say what they would have done with him. I had no job; no prospects. All I can hope is that he has lived a happy life, well-loved and cared for.”
“The abbess would have made sure of that,” Marilee offered.
“One would hope,” Peggy replied. Her eyes had again taken on that faraway look as if she was seeing into a world that was gone. “Yet, they are given so many unwanted children each year, many just dropped off in baskets. I cannot think that all would meet a happy end.”
Marilee was well aware that orphans were often given out as extra hands in the field or laborers to families in need. It could be a hard life, and the orphans were not always happy or well-fed, but if he was alive, there was hope. She threw her arms around Peggy’s shoulders and pulled her tight. It seemed that everyone had their own trials and tribulations. Marilee found herself wondering about the burdens that the other maids might carry. She had never suspected that Peggy, so pleasant and hard-working, had been hefting such a burden. The love of a mother was beyond all else. She vowed Peggy would see her son again. She did not know how or when, but the laundress had lasted four years in this hell-hole. It could not have been for naught. Marilee would not believe it so.
Peggy took Marilee’s promise to heart. She wiped at her eyes and nose, and then straightened as if the action had helped her to collect herself. “So, we will help Mr. Crowley if we can, but we must have care. I do feel that he can be trusted, but I have been wrong before…trusting the wrong man.”
“Then we are in agreement,” Marilee said with a firm nod.