And their lovemaking was perfection. At least for him, though he was fairly certain it was for Mary, too.
When Sister Agnes returned to the receiving room, Lucky realized his face was wet with his own tears. He faced the wall and wiped it with his hands.
"I wish Mary-Michael would get some rest," Sister Agnes said. "She hasn't slept much since the sentencing a few days ago. The poor lass wants to spend the time she has left watching her daughter." The aged nun wiped her eyes. "She said she would have an eternity to sleep."
He needed air. Now. He couldn't stay in here a moment more. All that was happening to Mary was because of him. He had to right the situation but didn't know how, except to find the former constable for this village and hold him at the edge of a knife blade and make him recant his lies in front of the judge.
Lucky strode from the building, walking toward the village center. He was exhausted. He needed a meal, a bed, and answers. And he knew of only one place where he could get it all. Becky's.
By the time he'd ordered a pitcher of ale, Lia, Ren and Michael had arrived.
"She's terrified," Lia said softly. "Under these circumstances, I can understand. I sympathize with her. Knowing death is imminent is a fear most people can never comprehend." She met her husband's gaze, a Lucky sensed an understanding between them. "I should like to gather my trunk from the rectory. I believe I shall accept Sister Agnes' invitation to stay at the dormitory. It will give Mary and me an opportunity to learn more about each other."
Ren nodded. "That's a good idea. Michael, Lucky and I will take rooms here at the inn."
"After Mary settles and after she's had a rest and can think clearly, send word here," Michael said to Lia, "and I will return so I can begin questioning her. With you present, Your Grace, so as to support and encourage her." Michael took a swig from his mug, and stared straight at Lucky. "But not you. I think it best if I speak with her as an attorney and not your brother-in-law." Michael heaved a sigh as he reclined back in the chair. "It amazes me that people here will actually hang a woman for something common in our country."
"Especially among some of the more notable of our set," Ren added.
"What would happen if I just steal them away?" Lucky had to ask what, to him, was the obvious solution. It was a grave injustice done to the woman he loved. He wasn't going to let her die for... an
affair!
"You would both be fugitives from the law," Michael replied. "But you know this." His brother-in-law gave him a sympathetic look.
"I had to ask." Lucky gripped his mug. "I pressured her into having an affair, Michael. I seduced her."
"I believe you," Michael said.
"You've always been a master at subtle persuasion," his sister said through her unhappy smile.
"Only this time it's placed someone he loves at risk." This came from Ren, who always had a way of getting to the core of a problem. "And, if I'm not mistaken, she cannot give you your daughter until paternity is legally settled."
Michael added, "Especially if this other man is claiming paternity of Mary's child. She's going to have to tell the judge which of you is the father."
"I see," Lucky said as he ran a finger along the rim of his glass tanker. Although he didn't, really. He didn't see how any of this could be happening at all. He wanted nothing more than to settle this with a judge and take Mary and his daughter home to England.
Ren traced the carved letters in the table surface in front of him. "I gather from what she's said that Mary thinks the reason this other person has made these claims is for the inheritance she and the child have from her husband."
"That's what I heard as well," seconded Michael.
"If she had no fortune," mused Ren, "if she had no property, no shipyard, would that man with the claim still want your child? I doubt he would care what happened to her, or Mary."
Lucky stopped toying with the mug and raised his eyes to Ren. "How could we do that? The courts have likely frozen her assets."
Michael put up a hand to stop them both. "Before we go much further with planning how we can get Mary out of the hangman's noose, I need to speak with her. I will not make any assertions or speculations until I know the facts in this case."
Lucky reluctantly agreed with Michael, just as Becky walked into the room and motioned for their party to follow her as she led them into a private dining room in the back of the facility.
"For the duration of your stay, you shall have this dining room to yourselves. It will be better for conversations of a private nature, captain."
"Mrs. Parks," Lucky began, then used the name she'd asked him to use two years prior. "Becky, can you tell me what Mary's brother meant when he said Mary could clear this up if she would tell the judge the truth? The truth of what?"
"Surely she was allowed to defend herself and take the stand?" Michael asked.
"Sirs," Becky began, "I would love to tell you all the truth, but to do so would violate my friendship with Mary-Michael." When Lucky tried to interrupt her, she stopped him. "I'm so thankful you are all here. You're the answer to all my prayers for Mary-Michael. Please, try to convince her to tell the truth to the judge. She's... she loves you, captain. I know she does. But she also loved her mentor, Mr. Watkins."
It was going to take an apology of a grand sort for her to forgive him for lying to her. He said as much to his family and Becky.
The tavern owner just smiled. "Mary-Michael will forgive you anything," Becky said, "if you could find it in your heart to forgive her first. That is all I can tell you, Captain. For anything else, you will have to talk to my friend." She glanced at his relatives, then added, "Alone. I don't think it's something she will want to share with the world."
"I love her," he whispered. "I love her and I am going to figure out a way to get her out of there."
"We love her, too, captain," Becky said. Then she told Lucky exactly when and how he could see Mary alone.
C
hapter
T
wenty
M
ary-Michael walked from the room, stoic in her resolve not to weep until she was in the privacy of her room, and she managed to withhold her sobs until after the door to her cell was locked. Lucky had lied to her. But hers was the greater lie.
He'd merely kept a part of who he was from her. While she lied about the relationship with Mr. Watkins, leading Lucky to believe she was infertile while she prayed she conceived a child—a child she had never planned to share with him. What she'd done was far more grievous a sin.
One she knew she would pay for one day.
Rachel brought her Lucy, then left to attend to her duties with the other children. Lucy started to fuss as Mary-Michael rocked her. When she realized the babe likely wanted to nurse again, she struggled with the squirming infant as she unbuttoned her bodice. After her daughter latched on, she wondered how she was going to hand her little angel over to Lucky for the rest of her child's life. How could a jury of men—some of whom worked for her and Mr. Watkins—make the decision to end her life merely because she wanted to have a child?
Lucky had even mentioned marriage, though it seemed she was the only person in that room to realize that marrying was an impossibility.
She wept silently as she fed her baby. Mary-Michael didn't want Lucky here to witness her execution. She would have to do her best to convince him to leave—with Lucy. And until he did, she would nurse her daughter, change her diaper cloths as needed, and cuddle, hold, bathe and play with her little darling.
A light rap on the door told her one of the nuns was back to check on her. Likely Lucky had told Sister Agnes he thought Mary-Michael was upset. Taking the soft linen blanket from the infant's bed, she wiped her face then covered herself and her suckling babe and called out for the guard to allow the nun in. Only it wasn't Sister Agnes, Sister Euphrenia, or Sister Elizabeth.
It was the duchess.
The woman had a gentle glow about her, as though Mary-Michael's situation didn't ruffle her at all. What little she'd heard about noblewomen, Mary-Michael had assumed that no woman of blue blood would want her sibling marrying so far beneath him. The nobility married within their own class. Mary-Michael could not possibly be good enough for this woman's brother, first by her lack of any aristocratic connection, and secondly by fact of being a convicted adulteress. One sentenced to hang, at that.
"May I help you, Your Grace?" she asked the woman, her voice trembled as she spoke the words.
"I am here to help you," the lady replied, her voice full of compassion.
Doubtless, the duchess was here to pressure her to accept their assistance, perhaps even agree to whatever plan Lucky was trying to concoct. Marriage as a way out of her sentence would not work and she said as much to Lucky's sister.
"Luchino told me he loved you when we were in England, before we left to come here." The duchess' lilting English accent bore just a trace of her native Italian. "I believe his desire to save your life and his offer of marriage are both sincere."
"He didn't love me enough for the past two years to share with me who he really is. His status as a nobleman is... surprising." She remembered how he carried himself and the air of authority and expectation of respectful behavior from those in his presence. Even Ian, who also had a title was more like her than Lucky was. A big part of her felt betrayed by his omission, and she felt he was only asking her because he thought it might, in some way, help her escape her sentence. She didn't think it would. But it would hopefully prove to the judge who the father of her child is, that she was willing to marry him so he could take their daughter and raise her. For that she might consider it. She would have to talk to Mr. Baxter when he returned.
Lucy squirmed and Mary-Michael moved her daughter to the other breast. Her Grace smiled as she sat on the room's only other chair.
"I nursed all three of mine, and will likely nurse the fourth one as well." She ran a hand over her barely noticeable belly.
Mary stared at the woman, gape-mouthed. While she was a beautiful woman, Mary-Michael thought she might be a bit too old for more children.
Her Grace laughed slightly and nodded. "Wait until I tell my husband. He will be furious with me."
"Why is that? Aside from your age that is?"
"I'm not that old!" Lucky's sister protested. "I'm not thirty-nine summers yet, though I will be before this child comes."
"It was not my intention to offend, Your Grace," Mary-Michael said. "It's just..." Mary thought women just didn't continue sharing their husbands' beds beyond a certain age. Certainly not after having already borne the heir and spare.
"My husband will be upset because I knew before I left England and said nothing."
"Why didn't you?"
"First, because there was an infant here that would need a woman's care if something had happened to you. While my brother is likely competent enough as a baby nurse, if the worst possible scenario had come to pass, he wouldn't be thinking clearly. I came to support him as well as help with the babe.
"But also, because this isn't the first time I've run afoul of counting the days in my cycle. I've had a few scares over the years. This—" She chuckled softly as she rested her hand on her still-flat womb. "This is not a scare. I cannot wait to have another babe." The duchess stared out the window into the rear courtyard where the resident children played. "I can hear him now.
'You never should have taken the risk of coming here. What if something had happened?'
"
"His Grace seems quite imposing," Mary-Michael said. "Do you fear his anger?"
"No. Never. My husband can be blustery as a winter's day, or as gentle as a lamb. And when the occasion has called for it, fierce as a wolf protecting what it is his. He told me after Christopher, that if I wanted more children, it was up to me. I was just beginning to mourn the idea of not having a little one around now that Christopher is bound for Eton in another year." The duchess smiled at her. "I do love the little ones."
"Perhaps you unintentionally neglected your calendar?" Mary-Michael said, "In order to keep from having an empty nest."
Her Grace seemed to think on Mary's words, and nodded. "You might be right. And if this is the case, I think I shall have to start filling the house with spaniels or cats to spoil as soon as this child is out of leading strings."
Both women laughed heartily for a few moments. She wanted many children too, just like Becky and Cady. Just like Lia and her husband, the duke. When Mary-Michael met the other woman's dark-eyed gaze, her vision began to get cloudy. It would never happen now. Not unless she shamed her dead husband and told the judge that he'd more than acquiesced to her desire for a child, he approved of her choice and facilitated their affair as much as necessary. And how would Lucky feel to learn that he was initially used as a stud to provide her with what her husband could not.
"I'm not sure how you think you can help," Mary-Michael said. "Mr. Baxter has gone to the appeals court. He wants me to tell the judge..." Mary-Michael caught herself about to tell her secret, the one that only her few trusted friends know. It was the thing she never wanted known, because to reveal it might cause the town to think her husband less of a man. But now, her brother and Father Douglas, as well as Mr. Baxter, were all pressuring her to tell the appellate judge the true nature of their marriage.
Mary-Michael realized that having Lia learn of her secret might give Lucky false hope if he were to find out. And she didn't want to do that. "They want me to tell the judge something that wasn't revealed at the trial."
"What is this fact that was not allowed?" Lia asked, concern written all over her wide-eyed expression. "Who would not allow it?"