Lucky's Lady (The Caversham Chronicles Book 4) (50 page)

"No, Lucky, she's healthy and beautiful... a happy baby girl. She looks exactly like you. She has your hair, your eyes, your complexion..." She began to cry now and his frustration was evident when the guard again warned him away. "Which is why I shall likely hang, but I will... never..." she hiccupped, "ever... regret bringing her into this world."

The lady with Lucky's party stepped forward, ignoring the guard's threatening stance, and handed Mary-Michael a kerchief before returning to stand next to one of the men.

"Thank you." Mary-Michael wiped her eyes and blew her nose. "I regret only one thing, Lucky—that Mr. Watkins did not live to see her, because he would have adored her."

"I believe he would," Lucky said.

The handsome captain she'd chosen as her lover... the man whom she thought so strong as to be invulnerable, swiped a tear from his face. Mary-Michael wished she could seek solace in his embrace. Would that she could relive those days in her captain's arms one more time. Experiencing again the moments of desire and hedonistic pleasure from their hours loving and the intimacy of the whispered words they shared afterward. It was all she'd been dreaming of for the past year.

Yes, the more she thought of it, the more she knew she would have done nothing differently. Nothing.

One of the two men standing next to the lady cleared his throat, and Lucky glanced back at him, and smiled. "Mary, I would like to introduce my family. We are here to help you. Michael is a barrister—"

Just then, Sister Agnes entered the room, interrupting them with a serene smile, as the furious screams of an infant echoed from the hallway behind the door. "That didn't take long. I believe the little dear knew the moment you'd left the room and from then on there was no consoling her." The nun turned her smile on their guests. "Please have a seat. I will have coffee brought in and Mary-Michael will return shortly."

Mary-Michael hurried to her room and as soon as the door was locked, Rachel helped her with her bodice so she could feed Lucy, before her ear-splitting cries woke every other child in the home.

 

"T
hat's her. I know it is." A flood of pride washed over him, and Lucky gave the others in the room an awkward smile. "That's my daughter's cry, and it's a strong cry, too, isn't it?" he asked his sister.

Smiling about as much as the situation allowed, Lia nodded.

Despite his joy and the sudden swell of love at hearing his daughter's cry for the first time, Lucky couldn't help but sober when he remembered why they were there. The guard had followed behind Mary and the nun, leaving him with his family in the reception room. He was here to help Mary out of this. "I'm not leaving Baltimore without them," he whispered.

He met Michael's gaze. Surely there was something legal they could do, for crying out loud! What civilized culture executes a person for adultery? They were treating Mary as though she were a murderer. "What do I have to do? Michael, I'll do anything. Just tell me what I can do, because I will not let her hang."

"I need to know the facts in the case first, Lucky," Michael said. "I can't say what to do, until I know why the priest says she will not defend herself against the charges."

"She will have a reason, I'm sure," Lucky replied, his confidence started to return. "Mary is one of the most pragmatic women I've ever met. She will have likely calculated a reason for doing what she's done. She always has a reason for everything."

"Reason or no, as Mary is not a British citizen, I'm not sure Fox will be able to help us," Ren said. "But it won't hurt to have him here. Your daughter is, by paternity, a dual citizen."

Michael served himself a cup of coffee, tasting it before adding his cream and sugar. "I may have to wait until her attorney returns, but I'd like to see his file on the case, perhaps even speak to the witnesses who testified against her. Though I'm sure Mr. Baxter is very capable, maybe a fresh set of eyes on the evidence can spot something that was missed the first time."

Forty minutes after she left the room, Mary returned carrying a bundle loosely wrapped in a knitted blanket, while the dour-faced mustachioed guard followed behind. If she had been in chains it couldn't have been a worse sight for him. The entire ordeal had taken a visible toll on Mary, he could tell she was not the same. She didn't smile the way she used to, her amber eyes used to shimmer with dancing gold flecks. Now she had dark circles under her eyes, and her skin looked pale, missing its normal rosy hue.

She carried his daughter. His now
quiet,
infant daughter, who no longer screamed with a force so strong as to shake down the timbers.

Unable or unwilling to meet his gaze, Mary handed him the sleeping bundle. She stroked the baby's cheek and Lucky's heart swelled to see her tenderness toward their child. It was evident in her touch and the look on her face. From the hitch in her breath, it was clear that she'd been crying. He couldn't imagine the thoughts going through her mind at this moment.

Lucky held this warm bundle of babe—
his daughter
—as if she was the most fragile of living things. She
was
fragile, utterly helpless and dependent on her parents for everything.
Both
of her parents. And he wasn't going to let Mary give up on the life they had waiting for them. Together. Raising their child, and possibly even more children.

"Oh, God, Mary," he whispered, "she's beautiful." He gently moved her tiny fist from her tiny pink mouth so he could gaze at her bowed lips and turned-up button nose. The babe already had a full head of darkest brown hair that curled delicately at the nape. She was his child without a doubt. He could even see a resemblance to Lia's daughter Isabel when she was an infant. They were a family now. He just had to convince Mary of this.

His sister had come close to see the baby and he raised her head for the rest of family to see his beautiful daughter.

Behind him Mary stifled a sob and Lucky whirled around. She gazed up at him with red-rimmed eyes–and that look of sorrow and resignation in her face shredded his soul to pieces. It was as though she'd given up the fight, as though staying alive and raising their daughter with him was out of reach for her. It wasn't. And he was going to see to it that she walked out of this children's home a free woman, and
they
were going to live together and raise their child.

Through her choked tears, she said, "I call her—Lucy." Mary began to tremble visibly. Lucky handed the babe to Lia, and reached for Mary intending to comfort her.

The guard blocked his way. "Ye're not to touch."

Lucky clenched a fist, his frustration at the entire calamitous fiasco starting to wear on him. If anything would make him feel better it would be to find that constable who started this injustice to Mary and slam his face with a few good punches then call him out, even if it was illegal. It was the only way he would be satisfied. To hell with justice. Mary was not some criminal!

"No, Lucky, it's fine," Mary said through the tears. "I have been preparing for the day I would have to do this—hand her over to another for the rest of her life. Only... I didn't—" She paused a moment to catch her breath. "I didn't think it would be today."

"I'm not taking her from you, Mary. We will raise her together." Lucky tried to sound reassuring, but her pain was making it almost impossible for him to believe it himself. He glanced back at his two brothers-in-law, both of whom gave nods of encouragement. "Mary, we are here to help. Michael is waiting for the return of Mr. Baxter, and Ian has gone for our ambassador, Mr. Henry Fox."

"How on earth will he get in to see the ambassador?" She sounded stunned at the idea that Ian would just go fetch the man. "Does Ian even know the man?"

"No, but we do," said Ren, who'd been quietly taking in the scene since arriving. "Michael and I sent him with a letter, asking him to come as soon as possible."

"I'm so sorry, Mary," Lucky said. "My introductions are long over-due." He presented his sister the duchess, her husband the duke, his other brother-in-law, Michael, another earl.

Mary's eyes widened and her jaw went slack, but the deputy behind her began to sputter in shock at the roomful of noblemen in his presence.

"D-duke? Lucky? You never told me your sister was a duchess. I mean, I knew about Ian being forced to go to England to inherit some title, but—"

Her shock was slowly replaced with anger. She was likely mad that he'd never told her, and he had no one to blame but himself for her upset.

"Well, you must feel like the black sheep in the family, with all your brothers-in-law being titled noblemen," she said, finally teasing him. Relief swept through him—briefly—because she was willing to make a jest at this time. However no one else in the room laughed. Ren did cough softly as though clearing his throat, Michael looked at him with a curious wide-eyed look. Lucky stole a glance at his sister, who refused to acknowledge him, pretending an intense interest in the sleeping infant in her arms. He then returned his attention to Mary, giving her a peevish look. He wanted to put his arms around her and kiss her rising anger away, but he was unable to touch her.

"Ummm, well, that is not necessarily so, sweetheart." Lucky feared what she would think of him for withholding this piece of his identity from her. At the time he felt it was the right thing to do. He'd planned all along to tell her—just when the time was right. And that time had never come up. Until now. "You see, about ten years ago, I..." He paused, unsure of how to continue. She had to think he'd told her everything about his life during his first visit to Indian Point. In fact, Lucky remember one pointed question specifically addressing any other names or titles, and he'd replied in the negative. He'd lied that day.

"A while back, my cousin died and—umm—I inherited a really old Italian title that has been in the family for a very long time, a Papal Title of Nobility. No one even remembers why it was issued. There's no land or wealth or anything that came with it, but..." The look of pained disappointment on her face twisted his heart. He almost felt as though he'd let her down in not being honest with her. He wanted to make her understand why he'd kept it from her but couldn't find the words. And an apology wasn't nearly enough.

She was silent, staring at him as though he'd spontaneously sprouted another head and her scientific mind was attempting to discern the usefulness of the extra cranial appendage. "Why did you hide that part of who you are?"

He didn't reply. He couldn't think what to say, and before he could come up with something, she shook her head.

"Isn't it important to you? Or are you ashamed of it?" Her golden-brown eyes widened as though she came to a sudden realization. "It was me.
I
didn't matter, did I? At least at that time, I didn't matter."

How could she possibly come to that conclusion? "That's not so, Mary! You have always mattered to me."

"Don't lie to me now, Lucky," Mary said, her voice a harsh whisper. "I think I have the right to know the man I'm giving my daughter to."

"Mary, I swear it, as God is my witness. At the time I didn't think you'd be impressed by things like a title, I wanted you to love me, not a title or my wealth."

"Oh, wealth, too?" Mary had a look on her face that was part tearful frustration and part disappointment. Her eyes were swimming in unshed tears. "It's a good thing you're rich, because I think the reason I might hang is because someone wants my husband's shipyard and his fortune. Now that I know you're well-off, I should rest much easier in hell."

"Don't say that, Mary," Lucky admonished. "We will raise
our
daughter. Together. We will marry and—"

"No. We cannot. I... I'm about to hang for fornicating with you, and I just realized... I don't even know who you are." She kept her voice soft, so as not to wake Lucy. "I thought you were my captain, but you're not. You come in here with these well-connected relations and inform me that you're here to help me? Well, Lord Whatever-Your-Name-Is, they may be connected in your world but that influence doesn't extend to this country. I can't believe you want me to accept your family's assistance to get me, one little adulteress, out from the hangman's noose? Why? Why do you care now? I didn't matter enough to know the truth of who you were for two years. You had two years to tell me the truth about who you really were, Lucky and... you didn't."

Lucky let her finish her speech, knowing she had every right to her anger. He'd lied to her, a lie by omission, but a lie nonetheless. Right then he wanted so badly to hold her. If he could just wrap her in his arms, she could cry out her upset and then he could soothe her with a lifetime of apologies.

"I'm begging you, Mary... you have every right to be angry, but I'm begging you for forgiveness."

"No," she choked, catching herself before she sobbed. "You don't know what I— Lucky, please take our daughter and leave here."

"I know your heart, Mary. I will not take our daughter from you," he said calmly, refusing to do as she insisted. "Not now. Not ever."

"Take her, and don't come back, Lucky. I don't want you to come back."

Mary began to cry softly, and Lucky never felt so powerless before in his life. He would do anything to help her. If he could just comfort her, reassure her, hold her, love her, all would be well.

The guard stepped closer to Mary to prevent Lucky from coming nearer.

"Please take our daughter and go." She turned to leave the room, her guard trailing behind her. The novice returned and took the still-sleeping infant to bring it to Mary's room.

This was all his fault. He'd wanted Mary in a carnal way from the moment he met her that first day in front of her office building—when she was wearing an over-sized straw hat and odd trousers that looked like they were too big for her. If anyone deserved to be punished it was him. He was the one who seduced
her.
She'd resisted and resisted, until... she couldn't.