Peggy had already turned in for the night when Marilee was released to take her rest. The house was dark and the hallways silent but for the deep breaths of sleep. She found herself seated upon the edge of her bed, her head hung as low as her spirits, while she stared into the void of darkness. There was no moon tonight…no light at all.
How had her life come to this? She had gone from the happy existence of a lady’s maid to witnessing a murder most foul. Then, held captive and used for unpaid service. She had been forced to keep secrets and attempt to bide her time until she and Miss Caroline could manage to be ransomed from this horrid existence. Now, she had wounded the only man that she had ever cared about…no. Loved. She loved him.
She felt that her nerves were spent even though she had yet to shed a single tear. How she had managed to hold back her emotions, she would never know. It was only through the detachment of her feeling that she had avoided diving into the void. Her heart hurt. Her mind and soul were depleted. She had nothing left and no more prospects that might free her from her fate. She had driven away their only hope, their salvation, and Peggy, sweet Peggy who lay there without the slightest indication that anything might be amiss, would be caught unawares when she discovered that once again, she was fated to attempt an impossible escape of this fortress. There was no hope now for either of them.
Marilee brushed a tear from her cheek. The first to fall soon became one of many that could not be held in check. Soon, she was sobbing. Nikolas was gone, more than her comfort and lifeline, he was their only link to the outside world. She pulled the pillow to her chest and attempted to muffle her sobs but soon the others would wake if she did not find some modicum of control.
“Kate?” a whisper trailed through the darkness. Peggy did not ask what was wrong, did not require an explanation in this moment. She did not need confirmation to know that for whatever reason Marilee was crushed, such was the norm in Blackwell house. They would speak on the morrow, in private, but for now she would offer her comfort.
“I’m fine,” Marilee choked.
“You are not fine. What happened?”
Marilee just shook her head with negation.
The creak of the mattress revealed that Peggy had shifted and from her distance Marilee could see that her dear friend had raised her blanket as high as her arm would permit, the opening beckoning. With a smothered sob, Marilee dashed from her perch and dove beneath the blanket to lie beside Peggy upon the rickety bed. At once a pair of arms drew about her and pulled her close while she allowed her tremors and gasps to break free for the first time since she had been first called to Lady Lydia’s chamber.
“I…” Marilee croaked. “I… I can’t…”
Peggy made a shushing noise and smoothed Marilee’s curls against her head. “Just rest,” she cooed.
“I’ve done a horrible thing,” Marilee cried.
“Sometimes horrible things don’t look so terrible by the light of a new day,” Peggy promised. “Cry it out, and we shall talk it through in the morning.”
“I cannot cry,” Marilee sobbed but her tears belied her words. She was a veritable watering pot and it could not be stemmed now that the dam had broken.
Peggy found a scrap of fabric that Marilee used as a handkerchief.
Peggy said not a word, but she pulled Marilee closer to her in the small bed. They held firm and clung to one another while Marilee allowed every emotion that she had held in check these recent weeks to burst forth between them. Peggy must have been soaked with the wetness of her tears, but she did not complain. Marilee sobbed and sniffled, wept and moaned in agony until there was not an ounce of fight left in her. She felt like an old dishrag wrung dry. When the sky began to lighten, she finally slept, and still Peggy held her wrapped in the protection of her arms. They would have a late start to their washing, but she was certain that neither the lady nor the housekeeper would press her after such a trial. No doubt they were both still abed. When they woke, she would tell Peggy all. Until that time she would wallow in her sorrow.
Then, when she finally rose to face the day, she would have to remember that she had acted for a purpose. Peggy would help her find her strength, of that she had no doubt. For this night, however, she would allow the pain to cut. She would feel every ounce of loss, every stab of torment. She would mourn the loss of Nikolas and his affections, of his goodness and his conviction. She would allow herself this misery and then hide it away so that neither Lady Lydia nor her compatriots, would know her true feelings lest they use the connection against her.
Peggy spent the next several days attempting to convince Marilee that she had done the right thing, made the right decision for the sake of them all, but the concept was difficult for Marilee to grasp when every moment her instinct screamed that she must find a way to reach out to Nikolas and explain away the events of that horrible night. Deep down she knew that she had been right, but she could not help but wish that they had had the means to find another way.
“We’ve heard nothing of his passing,” Peggy would remind her. “That must mean that he has disappeared just as you have hoped.”
“I made a momentary decision that may result in our being trapped here for however many more years,” Marilee had argued. “Without consulting you. What of your son, Peggy? What was I thinking?”
“You had no time to speak with me,” Peggy had pointed out, for they both knew it to be true. “Even if you had, I would have counseled you to the same end. Nikolas would have as well, though he may not understand it at present.
“He shall never forgive me,” Marilee had said with a groan as she threw a pile of nightgowns into the vat, careless of their splashing.
“At least he is alive so that when the time comes, he can make that decision for himself.” Peggy had replied with vigor to match. She would not allow Marilee to regret her choice for it had been the only one to be made.
“If we ever get free of here,” Marilee said with determination, “I shall make it my purpose to search him out and make him understand. Whatever it may take. I was certain that Lord Edward would be his end, Peggy, but no, it was me. Me!” A sob caught in her throat.
Peggy had made her vow to help her friend with her mission whenever that time might come and was eventually able to convince Marilee that dwelling on the matter would only cause more anguish. “First and foremost, we must survive,” she instructed, and so that was what they were determined to do.
Lady Lydia was so pleased with the prospect of the solicitor’s demise that she did not even notice when the plant at the small parlor mysteriously died and had to be dumped into the garden compost. She strutted about the townhouse and made plans for her future as the Duchess of Manchester while cavorting with Edward. Marilee did not remind her that Edward had an elder brother who was actually the duke. There must have been other happenings that led her to think that her goals were well in hand for it was not long in coming that her newly monogrammed handkerchiefs made their way down to Peggy and Marilee in the washroom.
“She isn’t the duchess yet,” Peggy scoffed.
“Let her dream,” Marilee replied with a shrug and a deep roll of her eyes. “It keeps her distracted and the more distracted she is, the less attention she pays to us.”
“Oh! Look at that,” Peggy called.
“What?” Marilee wondered as Peggy stared out of the recently opened window.
“If she was not distracted before that ought to do it,” Peggy said with a nod to the window that looked out towards the stables. “It appears that Lord Edward has gotten her another early wedding present.” Marilee raced over to join Peggy at the window and could hardly believe what she saw. Lord Edward was standing a short distance away upon the cobbled pavement holding the reins to none other than Miss Caroline’s prized mare, Bella. Marilee had often wondered what had happened to the beast and was glad to see that she had not come to harm. Her coat was gleaming, and she appeared to be in good health, better in fact than Marilee. Seeing the mare made her wonder once again what had happened to Miss Caroline. She gaped in amazement.
The fact that Lady Lydia was clearly unaware of the animal’s link to the murder of the late duke, the father to both her lover and her betrothed, meant that Miss Caroline and Marilee’s link continued to be safe. Lady Lydia was admiring the beautiful stepper and exclaiming loudly for anyone to hear at how shocked she was by such a generous and unexpected gift.
“It’s a beautiful horse,” Peggy said and then scoffing as she realized it was probably stolen, she added. “No doubt someone is missing it.”
“Good heavens,” Marilee had cried. “That’s Bella, my… my cousin’s horse.”
“That is a fine horse for your cousin,” Peggy said with surprise.
“It was a gift,” Marilee said in an attempt to cover her blunder. “From the lady she served. They were quite close and often rode together.”
“You cousin was an abigail?” Peggy pressed for it was a rare occasion indeed that Marilee shared any detail of her past, particularly pertaining to her missing cousin.
“She was,” Marilee said with a firm nod. “To a lady in Northwick.”
“Then that is how you knew Nick’s brother, the doctor?” Anne asked.
“Yes, I knew of him,” Marilee lied. She still hated every moment of mendacities that she had been forced to supply Peggy, particularly when the laundress had been so open about her own secrets. Marilee still felt it necessary to protect her friend from any potential harm that possession of that knowledge might bring upon her. She could not risk Peggy being silenced when there was a little boy out there somewhere in need of his mother.
“I’m glad you could finally tell me,” Peggy said with the sweet smile of someone who felt that they had been granted a gift. Marilee felt her heart crumble. How could she be so callous? How could she deny Peggy truths when her friend had told her so many of her deepest, most important secrets and yet Marilee had withheld her own. Of course, Marilee had done it to protect Peggy, but was that really fair? Peggy would not betray her. She was certain of it now. So then why was she keeping her in the dark? Now, that she had kept the lie for so long, it was hard to tell the truth.
“Oh Peggy,” Marilee groaned. “It is so much worse than that… I haven’t been completely honest.”
“What is it, Kate?” Peggy wrapped her friend in her comforting arms. “You do not have to tell me, but you know I would always keep your truths close to my heart. You can trust me. If you are not ready, I promise not to be hurt. These are trying times for us all.”
With that, Marilee cracked. She threw caution to the wind and told Peggy everything. Her name, the harrowing story of how she had come to be here, about Miss Caroline who had become the Duchess of Manchester, a lady she loved dearly. “She was my friend,” Marilee sobbed.
“She is still your friend,” Peggy said. “True friendship is not marred by simple things like murder and captivity.”
Marilee laughed at the woman’s wry humor although she had thought she would never laugh again. She poured out her heart. “You are my friend too,” she told Peggy. “You have been my salvation in this horrible place.”
“And you mine,” Peggy agreed.
Marilee finished her tale with the reason for her secrets. She had an urgent need to protect the secrets to save the lady from a more horrible fate. She revealed that both were told that if the other tried to escape the other would be killed.
Peggy nodded her understanding.
She told her that the horse, Bella, belonged to the lady for whom she worked, Miss Caroline Graves, daughter to a baron. She told Peggy that she had begged her lady and her friend to escape upon the steed, but that it could not carry them both to safety, and so she had refused. She shared the threats of the brothel, the trauma of the duke’s murder, and every single fear that she had experienced since she had left Gravesend Manor. She told Peggy how she really felt about Nikolas, that she loved him. She spilled her fears and her feelings of hopelessness. She cried until there were no tears left to cry and Peggy cried along with her.
Marilee wanted to feel better with the catharsis of tears, and she did feel unburdened when it had all been said, but she also felt the blanket of fear and hopelessness descend upon her anew. She worried she had put Peggy in danger with the knowledge, but Peggy was made of stronger stuff.
“Don’t you worry about me,” she instructed and made the motion of a locking key across her lips. “Your secret is safe with me, and, furthermore, I am so glad that you have chosen to share it with me. I cannot tell you what that means, and I know that you worry it will come at great cost. But it won’t. We will save ourselves. You’ll see. We will save Nikolas and your lady. We will break free from this prison and, more than that, break the prison to nothing more than rubble. I believe it. I know you might doubt it in this moment, and so, I will believe it enough for the both of us. With one true friend, you can do anything,” Peggy declared.
Marilee hugged Peggy that much tighter. Peggy was right, she was struggling to see the light in this moment. And so she would allow Peggy to be her strength until she could find that strength within herself again.
Three days went by during which Nikolas’ demise was celebrated. For each of those three days Marilee experienced a sort of elevated preference from the lady of the house as well as a lack of censure from the head housekeeper. The other servants had certainly noted the change, and whispers followed her wherever she had gone as if wondering if they too could achieve similar advantages, or perhaps they feared her as they feared the lady and the housekeeper.
On the fourth day, Marilee was called to Lady Lydia’s chamber fully expecting to be re-instated into pitiable Hetty’s position as had been promised. She had come to feel for the girl when it was clear Lady Lydia had no intention of giving her recommendation that the maid continue on in such an elevated position. Though she had given it her all, it was easy to see that Hetty had never been more than an assistant to a lady’s maid. Marilee could only hope that this did not mean that Hetty would be sent back to be put to the alternate duties of the Sparrow Club. Such a life would break the girl.
When she entered the room, she was surprised to see that Hetty was still present and had quite a smug expression of satisfaction upon her face.
“Is something the matter?” Marilee asked with hesitation as she stepped into the room to find Lady Lydia draped across her arm chair with all the confidence of a queen at her leisure.
“Only that you did not fulfill your end of the bargain,” Lady Lydia said with a frown. Marilee’s heart hammered in her chest. Had she been found out? Were they aware that she had switched the poison for the emetic? She would have to play off the ruse, she realized, else her punishment would be severe.
“I am afraid that I do not understand,” she murmured. “I doused him with the entire vial as instructed.”
“And yet somehow he still breathes,” Lady Lydia spat. “That is, his body has not been recovered though he has failed to be seen anywhere in London proper.” Marilee forced her features to reveal only confusion when what she really felt was relief at the confirmation that Nicholas was alive. He must be. She made some bumbling attempt at suggesting that perhaps he had gone off and died elsewhere and that was the reason why his body had not been seen. Lady Lydia had shaken her head with disgust. “I am afraid that that explanation will not do,” she explained. “If he was well and truly dead than he would no longer be able to hold claim to my debts as my solicitor. As it is, someone is still enforcing them and refusing to sign over the contract to Mr. Penteby. No, he is out there somewhere continuing his work by proxy. You were supposed to have handled this.”
“I thought that I had,” Marilee cried. “I did everything that you asked of me.” She decided to turn the tables. “You cannot blame me that the poison did not work! Where did you get it? The poison was obviously defective.” As much as Marilee hated to incriminate another, she did not want to be caught herself. How had she come to this? She wondered. Had she sunk so low?
“What I asked of you was to take care of this problem.” Lady Lydia stood with such force that she overturned the chair. “Do you know what this could mean if he is alive? All of my plans could be laid to waste in an instant if he collaborates with the magistrate. I will not tolerate your failure.” Lady Lydia smoothed back her hair and took a dramatic breath as if she were attempting to calm herself, but Marilee knew that what it really meant was that she was preparing to release her unbridled rage.
“I am sorry,” Marilee began but was stopped short when Lady Lydia threw her hand between them in a gesture that demanded silence.
“I have no interest in hearing your excuses,” Lady Lydia snarled. “I only wished to ensure that you were made aware that inefficiencies would not be rewarded. Our deal is off and, until I have decided whether or not to grant you forgiveness, I do not wish to see you in my presence.” Marilee continued to stand in the center of the room in demure silence. This did not seem so bad; she had certainly seen Lady Lydia give worse punishments for less. To be sent back to work beside Peggy was no burden at although she certainly would not allow Lady Lydia to sense her relief. But the lady was not done. “Perhaps I shall send you away in Hetty’s stead,” Lady Lydia gave a malicious giggle. “That is what you deserve after all.”
“But it’s not my fault,” Marilee cried. She was really worried that Lady Lydia would hold to her threats. Now, there was no one to save her, and it was her own fault.
Marilee was sent below stairs to await the official declaration according to Lady Lydia. Whatever the lady decided, Marilee was destined to lose.
Marilee spent the rest of the day in a sort of haze as she worried about the discovery of Nikolas’s condition one way or the other.
When Mrs. Cavendish woke her in the early hours of morning from her fitful rest by pulling Marilee bodily from the bed, she was certain that the head housekeeper’s roughness meant that they had found Nikolas alive. She felt an instant surge of relief and gratitude that he had not met his end at her hand. She found that she was not even worried for herself for whatever might come next was beyond her control, at least if they were both alive.
“What is the matter?” Peggy had leapt from her bed at the sound of the scuffle, always on the alert as she was.
“Back to bed,” Mrs. Cavendish had snarled, and when Peggy had seemed prepared to put up a fight, the housekeeper gestured to the doorway where an enormous man wearing a dark hood stood in the hall prepared to put a stop to any resistance. Peggy glared daggers at the pair then sat down and held her tongue. If any of the other girls had happened to wake and witness the scene, they made no move to draw attention to themselves.
Marilee was thankful that Peggy had recognized that any attempt to aid her would be futile, even reckless. It would only have ended in both of their suffering.
She swallowed deeply and straightened her nightgown before stepping out into the faint light of the hall. The masked man grabbed her by the upper arm and tugged her along beside him without a word. She knew there was no escape, and perhaps in some way she deserved this end.
“Unhand me,” Marilee said regally. “You need not drag me. I can walk.”
The guards walked on either side of her, but ceased to manhandle her. If she was not bound, she reminded herself, perhaps she could run, but not yet. She had to goad the guards into complacency. She was frightened, but not beaten.
When she was loaded into the carriage, she pulled the carriage blanket over her to ward off the chill. She was free beyond the confines of Blackwell house for the first time since her arrival. She did not even need to ask where she was going. The rookery or some place fell, she was sure of it. Somehow, she felt neither fear nor anger. Only resignation. It was as if she had always known that this was to be her fate. Deep down, there had been a part of her that had been preparing for this, hoping that it would not be so but still acclimating her thoughts to the possibility.
When they arrived not at the rookery, but an enormous ship yard whose docks hung over what she assumed in the darkness must be the Thames she felt her first flutter of trepidation. To peer at the rookery would have been horrific, but at least she would be certain of the continuation of her own life, and if Nikolas were alive, he would find her. Unless he did not forgive her for the poisoning. But this brought a whole new fear to the forefront.
The blackness of the water below made her wonder if death was in her future. How many bodies might have dropped over the edge into the cold water? How many secrets could be spirited away on a ship never to be discovered or thought of again? Was this to be her end? Was she to be transported?
She was led into the warehouse with no attempt to hide her vision or silence her cries. No one would hear her in this place at this late hour. She had not fought them, and therefore, they had had no reason to restrain her.
Marilee attempted to explain away the cold chill that crept over her skin is the result of the winter weather, and the dampness of the docks. Rather, her fear had begun to manifest itself in the tiniest of quivers and goose pimples that rose along her skin.
Within, she was confronted by four compassionless faces. Two she recognized, those of Madame Mildred and the errand boy James, and two she did not. With deft fingers the man who had delivered her to this lot pushed Marilee down into the lone chair in the center of the room and tied her wrists behind her back with coarse rope.
“What is this?” Marilee wondered aloud. Her teeth were chattering uncontrollably, whether from fear or cold, she could not tell. From the moment of their first arrival in London, Marilee had neither seen nor heard from the dreaded mistress of the night. Part of her hoped that she and Miss Caroline had been forgotten, merely left to their new roles as servants rather than seen as a problem to be dealt with. Better yet, perhaps the fact that she had caught no glimpse of Miss Caroline at this location meant that she had been adequately ransomed and was now safe.
What that meant for Marilee, she had no idea. Might it mean that this was her moment of freedom? She dared not think of what that might mean for Peggy or Nikolas. The thought that she might be able to find him, and together they could work to free Peggy and the others, was almost too much to hope for, too much to believe.
No, judging by the glowering faces that stared down upon her she guessed that the ransom had not gone as planned. Nor did she think it wise to ask.
Madame Mildred snapped her fingers and shooed the others from the room, demanding that they go keep watch while she have a moment to speak woman to woman. Marilee highly doubted that the lady’s intention was anything like her words implied. Despite the towering size and brutish girth of her lackeys, and James’ small snakelike mannerisms, Madame Mildred was by far the most dangerous viper in the pit. Once they were alone, the elder woman rounded upon Marilee with all the fire and ferocity that was implied by her coloring.
“It seems that you have some explaining to do, Kate.” From the way that she spat the false name, Marilee knew the ruse was up. Her well-being had depended on the belief that she was the well-to-do cousin of the Miss Caroline Graves. Now she was not only in danger of her lowly status being revealed, and therefore leaving her without the protection of noble birth, but also facing the repercussions of what had been a very clear and intentional lie.
Marilee decided that her best course of action was simply not to answer at this point. How could she when she knew not how much of the truth the Madame had discovered or suspected?
“Tell me how you came to be in the duke’s carriage that night,” Madame Mildred spoke hastily as she paced in front of Marilee’s chair. “Tell me all that you remember, everything that was said. I mean to have the whole truth and not this ridiculous tale that you two concocted to fool my men.”
“Before I answer any questions, you must first tell me what has become of my cousin,” she replied with more confidence than she felt.
Madame Mildred chortled. “Come now, Kate, do you really think me such a fool as that? I am well aware that you are no relation.”
Marilee gave a pointed shrug and a dramatic sigh, “You believed it for far longer than I expected.” The slap that caught her across the cheek stung and smarted. Marilee clenched her eyes and winced, much of her bravado washed away by the force of the attack.
“You are nothing more than a servant, girl,” Madam Mildred leaned down so that her pungent breath blew over Marilee with every word. “Do not trifle with me. I’ll have your head before I allow your lies to muddy years of hard work.”
“Then have it,” Marilee spat back. “For I will never betray my friend.”
“Betray, no,” Madame Mildred laughed. “Quite the opposite. Your honesty is the only thing that can keep your darling Miss Caroline alive.”
“What do you mean?” Marilee choked on the words. Could this be a trap? Or was Madam Mildred in earnest? What knowledge might Marilee have that would prevent them from harming Miss Caroline if they had not already?
“As it is, she is less… accessible than you, at the moment…” Madame Mildred began to explain.
“What do you mean less accessible?” Marilee interjected. How she prayed that such a statement did not indicate that Miss Caroline was in dire straits. What sort of place might she have been sent off to? Blackwell house was a nightmare but with the help of her friends, Marilee had found her own way of managing. Miss Caroline may not have been so fortunate. If only she could figure out where the lady had been taken…
“Shut your mouth, girl.” Another resounding slap that Marilee knew would leave a bruise on her cheek. “What I am trying to say is that the imbeciles who decided that you had value in ransom failed to keep their ear to the ground for information that came forth about your… situation. Mind you, they’ve been punished,” she muttered, “and will no longer reap the reward. But I digress. The issue is that you were thought to have been come across by mere happenstance. What a surprise to learn that the duke had been recently wed and was known to be traveling with his wife and her maid before his untimely accident. Information that the two of you failed to divulge.”
“It was no accident,” Marilee cried, only to be met with a blow to the gut that left her gasping.
Madame Mildred grabbed her by the hair and forced Marilee’s face toward her own so that the point might be made clear. “It was an accident,” she repeated while emphasizing each word.
Marilee whimpered her agreement.
“Were they wed?” Madame Mildred snarled. “Tell me true. Was it done?”
“You tell me,” Marilee gasped, earning her even more by way of punishment. “You said that you knew all.”
“The publication of the duke’s death said as much,” the hostile mistress growled. “The baron is even rumored to be in town looking for his daughter whose body, as you well know, was not found with her husband. Presumed escaped and possibly with child surely complicates any offer of ransom that might have been made.”
“So you haven’t presented the offer?” Marilee asked with feigned disinterest. In her mind she was cursing. No one would even begin to know where to look without the ransom demand. Disappeared ladies did not often appear as unwilling servants amongst the Ton.
Madame Mildred did not bother to answer. “Is she, or is she not, with child?” she pressed.
“Why should it matter to you?” Marilee argued though she knew well enough that Miss Caroline had remained an innocent. “A ransom is a ransom. What does her title or condition change as long as she is alive?” Marilee hoped for confirmation of that fact.
“Cease your querying and answer me at once!” The woman was becoming more and more agitated with each delay in Marilee’s answer. Yet, Marilee refused to give any information that might lead to Miss Caroline’s harm. She wondered if she ought to lie? Was the woman now thinking to dispose of Miss Caroline, and perhaps Marilee, now that their disappearance had been made public knowledge? Perhaps if Miss Caroline were thought to be with child, then she would not be harmed.
No, Marilee thought. That did not bring one and one to two. Why then might Madam Mildred care about Miss Caroline’s condition?
“What does it matter?” Marilee groaned as she received yet another blow. She felt blood drip from her brow down across one eye but still refused to give up information that might be used against Miss Caroline. She had become hardened these past weeks and would not cower before the wench. “Why would you care?”
“I care whether or not she is carrying that demon’s spawn,” came the reply. “Isn’t it just like the man to always have the last word? He never could leave well enough alone, even when it all ought to be in hand. First, he decided to marry in secret a young thing more than half his age and in excellent childbearing form. Then, that boy of his just had to come back from the sea.” Her eyes rolled toward the mossy ceiling. “I’d wager my best girl that ‘ol duke is laughing in his grave.”
“Are you referring to Lady Lydia’s betrothed?” Marilee wondered aloud about which boy might have come back from the sea. That boy was surely a man, and one which now held the right to the title and holdings as the Duke of Manchester. She flinched, preparing for the pain that came every time she spoke but this time it did not. She had not offended, and it appeared that she had been correct. Like a flame flickering to life, the truth of the situation became illuminated in Marilee’s mind. The eldest son of the duke, thought to be dead, had returned. The duke, accosted on the road, had also met his end. Leaving only Lord Edward, with Lady Lydia at his side, to secure the title for himself. Another heir would potentially complicate things. Marilee’s stomach rolled as she began to put the pieces together and decide what tale was best to tell. She decided upon the truth.
“The duke was hunted,” she croaked. “The carriage was diverted and attacked with malice, with intention.” Her mouth fell open as more and more became clear. “He was meant to be travelling alone, with none left to witness.”
The woman nodded, and Marilee paused in her story. Would she and Miss Caroline have to forfeit their lives so that Lady Lydia could claim a silly title that Miss Caroline had never even wanted? This was absurd.
Madame Mildred laughed a deep and husky boom. “A bit slow on the uptake, aren’t you?” she nodded. “Yes, your presence was certainly a complication, particularly now that we know your companion was more than a mere guest in the journey. Miss Caroline, the duchess, must not be brought back into society, nor you my little bird. My lady will not allow any other than she to hold that title, and she has waited long enough by far.” Of course, Marilee groaned. Even if Lady Lydia were to marry one of the remaining sons, Miss Caroline would still be the Dowager and therefore hold significant power. Lady Lydia would not share power. She would want it all to herself, no exceptions.
“She’s not with child!” Marilee shouted. “The marriage can be claimed invalid. She does not wish to be the duchess.”
“Not likely,” Madame Mildred scoffed. “It has been announced and documentation brought forth. It cannot be undone.”
“It was never consummated,” Marilee pleaded. All of her fear and feeling surged forth and her voice broke as she begged for their lives. She knew without any doubt that Miss Caroline would agree with each word. “I can swear to it and it is true. Miss Caroline is still an innocent. He never laid a hand on her. You can do much better to still earn the ransom money and we will not speak a word. She has no claim to the title, none at all. I swear it. Please…” she sobbed.
Madame Mildred stopped her pacing and turned upon Marilee with a sly grin. “Now that is a useful piece of information.”
If Marilee had thought that the sound lashing had been painful, this was worse in a much different manner. She was now both physically and mentally defeated. Fear for Miss Caroline, the unknown future, and worry that perhaps her testimony would do more harm than good all led the Marilee descending into a pit of despair. When she had been delivered back to Blackwell house the following morning her eyes were blackened and swollen shut, her lips cracked and bleeding, and she was fairly certain that both a bone at her collar and a ribcage had been broken over the course of Madame Mildred’s punishments.
It hurt to eat. It hurt to breathe. It even seemed to hurt to think. Not that she wanted to think. Her mind kept going over and over every single word that had been exchanged, every minute change in the tone of her captor, searching and analyzing in an attempt to deduce the impossible; had her admissions been their salvation or their doom?
“I’ll find a way to contact Nikolas,” Peggy had hissed as she had sponged away what she could from the mess that was Marilee.
“No! You will not dare it,” Marilee had hissed through her teeth. “There is nothing here that will not pass with time and I will not have him brought into this house to meet his death.”
“He ought to know,” Peggy argued. “He would want to know.”
But Marilee shook her head. Peggy pleaded that his ministrations would speed her healing and ease her discomfort, but Marilee would not hear of it. Nick was on the run, or so she had prayed. She would not draw him back into the den of the wolves on her behalf. That is, if he would even care about her wellbeing. A small part in the recesses of her heart hoped that he still cared. That small portion feared what his caring might mean. That if he refused to give up the fight, if only on principle of helping Peggy and the others, then he would bring about his own demise. A larger portion, however, argued that she had burned him too well. That he would forever think of her only with hatred and betrayal. That even with all the goodness that he possessed, he would not wish to look upon her or Blackwell house ever again.
Peggy would not hear of it. Of course, she would always cling to the promise that Nikolas had made her, his search for her son. Marilee knew that he would have stayed true to his word to place the duty upon his kindly brother. So, she ensured that she gave Peggy clear instructions on how to meet the man if she ever escaped.
“You will be with me!” Peggy cried.
Marilee shook her head. She was so very tired. She couldn’t continue this fight. It was too much. If Peggy could find the doctor, whether or not any of the others survived, then he would help her find her son. This was the only hope that Marilee would permit herself. This was the only glimmer of light that she might allow to flicker in the darkness of her heart.
Unhappily, Marilee did not go to her just rewards. She healed, at least in body. Marilee spent her time drifting about the house like a wraith as she completed her duties in silence. Peggy did her best to comfort her, but Marilee was lost. The only time she would speak was after one of the many victorious smirks that were bestowed upon her by Lady Lydia or the head housekeeper.
In such moments, she would rush back to the laundry before they could witness her tears. Then she would gibber without breath about her fears that Miss Caroline was dead and it must be her fault. She ought not have admitted to their identities. She ought to have spun a better tale, thought better upon her feet, not given into her fear. Any number of excuses that Peggy tried, and failed, to soothe away.
It was the not knowing that ate at her most. Not knowing how her lady fared. Not knowing where the man she loved might be, how he fared, or if he might ever come to forgive her for her atrocities. It was the not knowing her future. If any hope of escape had disappeared the moment that she had poisoned Nikolas? If each new day brought about the likelihood that their captors would find the risk of their living too dangerous and decide to remedy their mistake with a swift hand? Saddest of all, Peggy would never again see the face of her little boy and hold him in her arms. That chance too had been dashed upon the rocks by Marilee’s actions.
There were no certainties. No plans. No confidence that came from the knowledge that they had help on the outside. Once again, they were alone and trapped within Blackwell house and their prospects, with their every move now being watched with increased suspicion, were diminishing by the day.
Peggy stopped pressing and soon fell into her own rhythm of monotony. Marilee felt horrible that her friend seemed to be falling too into her pit of gloom, but she could no more pull Peggy out than she could herself. Their days were numbered. She knew it without a flicker of doubt. The solitude was a plague that sapped their strength and their life. Each day blended into the next. There was no change. There was no hope.
And then the day came when there came a blood-curdling scream from above stairs and then the slam of the front door with such force that the shattering of the nearby window could be heard throughout the townhouse. The sound roused Marilee from her lethargy. Raucous cries rang throughout and the sound of dozens of boots could be heard as servants scrambled for safety.
Peggy rushed into the room with wide doe-eyes, the look of sheer panic upon her features drove Marilee to her feet.
“We must go,” she hissed and began to yank at the window. “With haste!”
“What has happened?” Marilee asked. She tossed aside the stockings she was mending, but did not move. She felt frozen, apart from herself.
“I haven’t the faintest but the house is in chaos.” She turned and began to wrench open the lone window that had been such a task to reveal all those weeks before. “They are rounding up all those within, likely to take us to the brothel or God knows where else. I will not be separated from you! We must run! Now is our chance.”
Marilee sat looking at her in stunned silence. “Get up!” Peggy growled. “We must go.”
Marilee responded to her friend’s urging and began pulling at the window and forcing the hinges to splinter until the frame fell full away from the wall making a larger opening than the window alone. Together, they poked their heads out into the alley and breathed a sigh in unison that it was blessedly empty.
She gave Peggy a hand up so that she might scramble out the opening before her friend, lying on her belly in the alley, turned to pull her through to safety. They could hear a commotion at the back of the house and so there was only one route that may lead to their safety. Straight out to the fancy Mayfair streets. Her heart thrummed in her chest to the point of aching. Now, in the mayhem, was their one chance for escape. If they were gathered with the others, they might never see the light of day again.
“Stand tall,” Marilee whispered to her friend. “If we appear just two maids walking with purpose, then no one will look twice at us.” She followed her own advice, throwing her shoulders back and her chin straight so that she might seem as nothing more than a servant going from one place to the other. Miss Caroline had gotten them through the highway attack by feigning confidence, and Marilee would do so now with the hope of the same result.
Still, Peggy clasped her hand as they rounded the corner and could finally see beyond the oversized hedge that had blocked their view of the front step.
Three carriages blocked the way and what seemed an army of black-cloaked men bustled in and out of the townhouse.
“There’s two there!” one man shouted and blew a whistle to direct the attention of his companions to the two escaped maids. “Grab them!”
“Run!” Marilee shouted as she and Peggy turned tail and ran in the opposite direction.
Weakened, weary, and in full skirts they were no match for the men. In a moment, they were snatched up by their arms and dragged back to the townhouse despite putting up a blustering fight. Marilee thrashed and pulled, but to no avail. To her left she could hear Peggy resisting as well. The moment that she was forced back through the threshold all the fight drained from her and she sank against the hands that restrained her with the realization that her one chance of escape was now forever forfeit.
“We caught this lot trying to escape,” one of their captors declared with a victorious timbre.
“Kate? Peggy? Oh, thank heavens,” came the once voice that she would recognize anywhere. Marilee’s head shot up, and she struggled against her captor’s arms until, with a wave of his hand, Nikolas directed them to release his friends. “These two need not be questioned,” he explained. “They are of the innocent lot, as will be many of the others.” To her shock, they followed his command.
Marilee raced to where he stood at the base of the staircase and flung herself into his arms. She ought to have asked if he was cross with her. Ought to have waited for his permission or explained herself in some way. But the smile upon his face and his open arms said enough. She heard him chuckle and pull Peggy in at her back.
“We couldn’t find you,” he murmured. “I’ve never been so terrified. I feared maybe I was too late, and they had already moved you.” Marilee wondered if part of him had considered that she might have escaped due to her allegiance with their enemies, but she was too afraid to ask in the newness of their reunion.
“What are you doing here?” Peggy gaped as she and Marilee looked around at the hoard of men that bustled through the hall. Now that they had calmed and were able to look around, Marilee realized that the men were not the harbingers of evil that she had thought, but rather, it was the magistrate and the scarred Duke of Manchester, along with his men come to free them all.
“How did you manage this?” Marilee stammered at the same time.
Nikolas chuckled and enfolded Marilee in his arms.
She pulled away. “I must stink,” she said.
He did not deny the fact. “I do not care,” he said. Marilee could not help but curl further into him. Oh, how she had dreamed of this moment. She realized with a slight blush that the men around them were watching. Or, more to the point, looking everywhere else so that they were not watching.
Marilee disentangled herself from the hold she had on Nikolas and she and Peggy did their best to right themselves while flinging an onslaught of questions upon the poor man who merely shook his head and declared with a pointed look at Marilee that they would both have a lot of explaining to do, “all in good time.”
Marilee resigned herself to be satisfied with the promise that they might speak on it once they were removed from the chaos that surrounded them. Below she could still hear Mrs. Cavendish shouting and flinging obscenities as she was taken into custody. The sound of a scuffle foretold that her brutes were not willing to go down without a fight. Two of the magistrate’s men carried another up the stair and into the hall, the man hung loose, having had his daylights darkened, but was coming round. Despite the battle, the magistrate’s men had both the advantage of numbers and the element of surprise.
A door slammed above, and she heard a deep curse and a shout to those below that, “she’s not here!”
A moment later two male faces appeared over the rail to the landing and looked down upon the main hall. The young Duke of Manchester, stood at the forefront, but it was instead the elderly man behind his towering frame that drew Marilee’s gaze. She gasped.
Nikolas’s sharp gaze swung toward her and he placed a protective hand upon her forearm. “Kate, are you alright?”
“Marilee?” boomed the voice of the older gentleman as he leaned over the rail and then, with the spry movements of a man half his age, he raced down the staircase and stood before her as if unable to believe his eyes. Marilee stood frozen, tears streaming down her face as the Baron Wickham, Miss Caroline’s father, took in her dismal appearance. The baron pulled her into his arms, in a fatherly hug, his relief overcoming the stoic persona he had adopted since his wife’s passing. For the first time in years, Marilee witnessed the softer side of Lord Graves that had long been buried. “Caroline has been beside herself with worry.”
“Then she’s safe?” Marilee sobbed.
“Yes,” the lady’s father said, and that was enough for her, her friend, and lady, Miss Caroline was safe.
She allowed her eyes to make a quick dart to Nikolas. Perhaps it was not so wrong to have come to care for another even in this unique situation. Perhaps it was these awful times that could bring good people closer together, unite them in a way that might not have been possible otherwise.
“Kate, ahh… Marilee…” the solicitor gave a charming flush when he spoke her name for the very first time. “Do you have any idea where Lady Lydia has gone off to?”
Both Marilee and Peggy, the latter of which had so quickly recovered from the revelation of Marilee’s identity that she must have suspected the falsehood all along, shook their heads. They had had no idea where or when the lady might go as they had been cloistered in the lowest level of the townhouse and well away from her activities.
But then, Nikolas would have no idea that Marilee was no longer the prized maid of the lady of the house. Last, he had heard she had made her trade with Lady Lydia; aligned herself with the devil incarnate. How far she had fallen since she had poisoned him under the ruse of earning her freedom.
“Her maid, Hetty, would know,” Peggy blurted when it seemed that Marilee would not begin. The truth was that Marilee had so much to say, her heart was so full, that she knew not where to start. But she must start. She had so much to explain.
Nikolas called to his friend, the magistrate, to bring Hetty, Lady Lydia’s maid, and a few minutes later the cowering young miss was coaxed into the hall. It took all of the solicitor’s patience to convince the girl that she was in fact being rescued and not sent to face the law herself. Her testimony, he promised would clear her name if she were in fact being held against her will. When she realized that maintaining Lady Lydia’s lies would only tie her to the wretched woman, Hetty began to explain what had occurred only moments before the infiltration of Blackwell house.
“James came all frantic like,” the maid began as she wrung her apron into a wrinkled mess. “He said that the real Duchess of Manchester had been recovered alive. He told ‘er that Lord Robert, I mean, His Grace. Pardon.” She executed a curtsey towards the duke.
“Get on with it,” he growled, looking very fierce.
“Well, Lord Edward was taken away in chains, but you know that, and James said that Lady Lydia was like to be next if she didn’t make a run for it. The lady was angry…throwing things.”
That did seem like Lady Lydia, thought Marilee.
“Hit me with her brush, she did.” She turned her face to show the burgeoning bruise.
“Yes, yes,” Marilee urged. “But where is she now, Hetty?”
Hetty explained how Lady Lydia had professed that she would not be driven from her town, her rightful title and would have to pay a visit to this so-called Duchess of Manchester. “She asked me for one of her larger reticules, she did. It didn’t even suit her gown, but she took it anyway because it fit her Queen Anne’s pistol with the barrel screwed on it. She put it inside and called for the coachman. Left here just a blink before you lot arrived.”
At the mention of a pistol, the room sprang to action. There were few in the room who doubted Lady Lydia’s intention. She was not one to maim without purpose. She meant to silence any who might speak proof against her. If Lady Lydia felt cornered or that her own future was on the line, she would not hesitate to kill Miss Caroline and anyone else who stood in her way. Marilee was well aware of that fact, even if she would never be the duchess, she would be avenged in her mad mind.
The duke was out the door first, not even waiting for the others as he jumped behind the reins of the lead carriage and drove it away himself.
Baron Wickham and Mr. Crowley, no Mr. Harding, and Marilee piled into the next while Peggy called from the door to chase after the duke. There was no time to waste. Marilee cast one last look at her friend who smiled and blew her a kiss before the carriage lurched forward. Peggy, at least, would not hold a grudge at Marilee’s hoarded secrets.
The baron was so busy urging the driver on and flinging his head out the window despite the winter cold that he did not even notice Marilee slip her fingers into Nikolas’ hand, nor when he raised her knuckles to his lips and pressed a tender kiss that conveyed all the unspoken words that Marilee needed to ease her aching heart until they could better speak alone. She was content. Only let Miss Caroline be okay.
Marilee squeezed the man’s hand and offered a shy smile in return. He may be happy that she was alive and well but she still needed to explain the fact that she had poisoned him. No matter his willingness to hear her out he must be made to understand that she had never meant him true harm, rather she had tried to save his life. Plus, there was the issue of his wife. Truly there were lies all around, but right now, there was only his hand in hers.
The carriage slammed to a halt just as a shot was heard through the open door of the baron’s townhouse. Marilee and the others were just crawling out of their carriage, the third vehicle full of members of the guard hot on their tails, when the duke froze mid-step at the entrance to the house. His face paled and his jaw clenched, the determination of a seasoned soldier evident in every inch of his bearing. The others called out to him to take caution, but he would not. Without a thought he raced into the house.
What occurred next happened so fast that Marilee hardly had a chance to comprehend the magnitude of Lady Lydia’s treachery and the fullness of her downfall. The duke had torn the attacker off of Miss Caroline and flung her straight into the waiting arms of the lawmen before turning to Caroline herself.
Kicking and screaming Lady Lydia was hauled off to meet her fate. She and the others would be tried and sentenced to either death or if they were very lucky, transportation.
Marilee exclaimed to her friend Caroline. “I thought I might never see you again.”
“Marilee!” Caroline squealed. “Oh Gawd, Marilee, I was so worried.”
Marilee hugged her mistress anew and then pulled back to begin checking that Miss Caroline was unharmed. She held her leg at a strange angle as if it had been injured, but seemed free of any immediate concern. In fact, Miss Caroline had a distinctive glow about her.
“I’m fine,” Caroline protested. She cupped her hands about Marilee’s face, searching for any sign of injury. “They told me that you had been beaten to within an inch of your life,” Caroline sobbed. “How is it that you are here and seeming well?”
Marilee’s eyes darted toward Nikolas, who stood beside the baron in the doorway. She exchanged a suddenly shy glance with him, and Miss Caroline caught her hands. “You must tell all,” she urged.
“Later,” Marilee promised exchanging a glance with Nikolas. “There are many truths that must be spoken.”
A vehement bellow sounded from the hall where Lady Lydia was still putting up her best fight.
“I am sorry,” Caroline said. “I wish I could have protected you.” The pain and regret in her eyes struck Marilee to the core. Her lady had been just as worried about Marilee as she had been for Miss Caroline’s wellbeing.
“And I you,” Marilee replied in earnest. “Such is the truth of real friendship. As soon as your father recognized me in Lady Lydia’s house, I knew I was saved.”
Caroline glanced up toward her father and Marilee felt at once that the bond between them, so long frosted over, had begun to thaw.
“Your duke burst in with such force I thought that for certain it was to be my end,” Marilee explained.
“My duke?” said Caroline.
“Well, isn’t he?” Marilee asked, but Caroline only smiled a smug grin that promised she would tell all, but not at this moment. Marilee could only be thankful that her forced captivity was at an end. She breathed a sigh of utter relief.
“You don’t have any proof!” Lady Lydia shrieked from the hall. “Unhand me! She’s the one that you want. She tried to poison the duke!”
Marilee’s brow furrowed. She had not poisoned the duke, only Mr. Crowley in a manner of speaking. But it soon became clear that Lady Lydia was speaking of someone else. “You have no proof of my involvement. It was the wretched Mr. Crowley’s concoction,” she shouted, and Marilee looked at Nikolas to see that his face had paled. There were still questions in her mind about his wife and how he had become involved with this horrible family in the first place, but she knew without a doubt he did not have the capacity for murder within him. He was at his core, a good man; a man she loved.
“He wouldn’t,” Marilee added, even though she had no guarantee, except her own feelings, to deduce how deep his involvement went. Thankfully, no one moved to arrest him.
How much must have happened outside of Blackwell house that she was still to learn? Neither Miss Caroline nor the duke seemed to pay Lady Lydia’s accusations much heed and so those that had gathered did not bother to listen to the raging madwoman’s fevered shouts of “You have no proof! It wasn’t me.”
“But we do have proof,” Marilee offered the only response necessary.
“Our word may not be enough,” Miss Caroline sighed.
“Lady Lydia has Bella,” Marilee admitted. “Lord Edward gifted her the mare as an early wedding present.” Marilee did not chance a look over at the elder brother, who was the one who ought to have been gifting wedding presents rather than his brother. “He did not seem to have any knowledge that the horse was tied to our abduction.”
“The horse was here much earlier,” Nikolas said. “I knew such a fine piece of horseflesh had not been brought in by ship. It is by tracing the horse, we finally found our proof.”
The relief in the room was palpable. Of this, a direct connection to the highway attack, there could be no denial. The magistrate and his men bustled from the house as they went to collect the mare and resume their questioning of the dozens of people who had been involved in or harmed by this ring of debauchery. Marilee, seeing that the duke had the matter well in hand, caught Nikolas’ arm and urged him to follow her from the room.
The rest would be up to the law to straighten out. For now, she needed to speak with the man that she loved.