Degrees of Hope (13 page)

“What about Mother, who will care for her?”

“I will organise something. Her needs are not so great these days, I'm sure than I can find a good woman to live with her and take care of her.”

“What about the school?”

“I will make sure it continues.”

Mary was silent as she considered Martha's request.

“I have read a lot about the country, especially in recent years, after their civil war. Some call it the land of opportunity.”

“We will send you an allowance every month,” Martha assured her. “You will not want for money.”

“And what should I do for a purpose?”

“That I cannot help with, but there must be schools in America. If we can work out such details, do you think that you might be willing?”

“The idea interests me,” Mary admitted. “Although it also frightens me in equal measure.”

“I realise you will need some time to think about it, but I must ask you not to tell anybody. We cannot leave any trail and I should warn you, that if Malcolm should ever discover your whereabouts, it will not be pretty.”

“I understand. How long do I have?”

“We need to get her away from him as soon as possible. I'm hoping, within a week, but if you need more time-”

“You will have my answer tomorrow,” Mary assured her. “I can't promise that you will like it, but I give you my word that I will consider it fully.”

“Thank you.” Martha hugged her sister.

Mary spent the rest of the evening wondering what to do about Martha's offer.

A part of her, a large part, wanted to leave this life (and its many unpleasant associations) behind. This was the house that her father violated her in and sometimes, completely unexpectedly, a memory would overcome her, rendering her a terrified child for a time, until she recovered her equanimity.

The other part of her, which had worked hard to carve out the life she did have, was afraid of giving that up, especially with no guarantee of anything better in return. Martha's allowance would mean that she wouldn't have to work anymore but then, she didn't have to work here; Martha would have paid her to take care of their mother. She wanted to work though, to feel useful, and had always felt that way. As a result of her father's brutal actions that night, she had long ago resigned herself to the fact that she would most likely never get married. With the life of a wife and mother off the cards, she valued her independence, and earning her own wage was a vital part of that.

Still, it sounded as if Honoria was trapped with a husband much like Mary's father, and she didn't like the feeling that she might be condemning the girl to a future with such a man.

But could she really leave her own mother to fend for herself? Although they had little in common these days, Mary had been taking care of her mother for as long as she could remember. The rest of the family were married or had moved away, so that had only left Mary. She hadn't begrudged caring for her, but sometimes she did feel that she had done more than her share. Didn't she deserve a chance to forge her own life? And she trusted Martha to take good care of their mother.

Also on the plus side, until now Mary had resigned herself to growing old and grey alone (for her mother would not live forever) but a married woman, even one taking on a new identity, was unlikely to marry again and commit bigamy. They could be companions to each other.

They paid no rent on the cottage, and so Mary had been able to save quite a bit of her wage from the school over the years. She had a nice nest egg for someone her age. Perhaps it was time to stop waiting and saving for the future and take this risk, in the hopes that she might forge her own future.

Lucien visited Liverpool a few times every year. Their stock regularly sailed from the port, heading mainly to America, so it wasn't unusual for Lucien to have business to conduct there. Sometimes their foreign buyers would come into the port to accompany the goods back, or to meet with Lucien and other local manufacturers who they purchased their wares from.

One might think that in such a large country as America, the people would be self-sufficient, and largely they were. However over the years, Lucien had gathered from meetings with various buyers, that there was also a certain snobbery that had developed. There were a lot of people who had made their fortune in America, but such people were often looked down upon by those who came from landed or titled families in England. These upper class English families often believed that true quality could only come from England and that made English goods, especially high end ones like Aldercott & Beaumont, desirable to all those who had wealth.

Today he had arranged a meeting with Maynard shipping, who handled most of their goods. Lucien didn't really have anything to discuss since he was happy with their current shipping rates, so instead he simply had a long lunch with the chairman.

After lunch he returned to his hotel and waited until night time before he ventured out again, calling a hansom cab to take him to the docks. The docks were a hive of activity during the day but after nightfall, the activities turned more nefarious. Anything you wanted could be bought at the docks, for the right price.

The driver warned Lucien to be careful as he alighted and Lucien assured him that he would. He knew that his clothes would mark him out as a target to some, but he had brought a cane for protection. Lucien walked around the docks, searching for someone who looked as though he might be able to help.

Ladies of the night propositioned him as he passed them but he paid them no mind; why would he when he had Martha at home? Finally he saw a man who appeared to be lower middle class, or in other words, a successful criminal who was doing well for himself.

“Excuse me, sir, I wonder if you can help me?”

The other man stopped and looked Lucien over.

“Aye, I might be able to. Depends what you're lookin' for.”

“Documents,” Lucien said. “Two birth certificates to be exact.”

“Aye, I might be able to help with that. Who are they for?”

“Two women. One 19 years old, the other 30.” Martha had told him to change the ages slightly, so that they would be harder to follow. He didn't know for certain that Mary would be accompanying Honoria, but if not they would just have to find another woman who could pass for 30.

“When do you need 'em by?”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“Nah, should be fine. It'll cost more though.”

“How much?”

“Two pound each.”

“If you come up with the goods, I'll make it five, how's that?”

“Very decent of you, sir. Do you have any preference as to names?”

“You can do that?”

“I can't promise but I can try.”

Lucien considered the offer for a moment. Mary was a common name but Honoria wasn't. Even if this man could find a birth certificate in that name, it would still be an obvious trail to follow.

“The older girls name should begin with M, the younger with H, is that possible?”

“Aye. Meet me back here tomorrow, five in the morning, before the navvies get here for work.”

Although it would mean an early start, it should enable Lucien to slip out of the hotel unseen, so he agreed.

He arrived early the next morning but the other gentleman was already waiting for him. He handed over the birth certificates and Lucien looked them over. One was in the name of Helen Mallard and the other, Mary Breckenridge. He smiled at the coincidence; at least one lady would get to keep her name. They looked to be real, to his untrained eye.

“Where did you get these?” John asked.

The other man hesitated for a moment, and then decided to answer.

“Orphanage. Those that come of age get given their documents when they leave, those that don't, they hang onto their documents for a time.” In other words, those who died, which wasn't uncommon in orphanages.

It relaxed Lucien to know that they were genuine documents and he handed over five pounds.

“I wonder if I might ask a second favour of you?”

The man shrugged.

“I need tickets purchased for some journeys than can't be traced to me.”

“Sounds possible. When and where?”

“Any ship sailing to New York next Tuesday, or as close as you can get. Two tickets in the names on these certificates, second class, if you can, not steerage or first class. Another ticket to France, in the name of Honoria Arundell. That one should be first class.”

He nodded. “Can do.”

Lucien handed him a further twenty pounds, more than enough to cover all three fares.

“What should I do with the tickets?” he asked.

“I'll come by in a few hours, on my way out of town. Will that give you enough time?”

“Aye, ticket office opens at nine and I'll be first in the queue.”

“Then meet me by the Cunard offices. And thank you.” Lucien shook his hand and walked back to his hotel. The hotel was still mostly asleep when he got back and no one seemed to have noticed his departure or return, although he knew that many of the staff would be awake and working behind the scenes.

He returned to his room and began working on some correspondence, until his breakfast was brought up to him. After that he packed and was ready to leave. His driver carried his case down to the carriage and Lucien nonchalantly mentioned that he had to stop by the port for a few minutes. The driver didn't question it and Lucien had him stop on the road so that he couldn't see where Lucien went. He collected the tickets, paid the man an extra five pounds for his silence, then returned to Marchwood Hall.

Chapter Thirteen

Honoria had been on tenterhooks for days wondering when 'it' was going to happen. She had been veering back and forth, wondering if she had the courage to go through with this. Could she really leave Malcolm for... well that was just it, she didn't even know what the future might hold for her.

Then she would remember her baby, who had just begun to move inside her, and how Malcolm had murdered him or her. She couldn't stay and she knew that if she gave in now, not only she, but any other children she might have, would be subject to a lifetime of tyranny. Even if she could stand it for herself, she couldn't allow defenceless children to be subjected to Malcolm’s temper.

Malcolm had finally returned at the weekend but she had kept to her room and remained non-responsive when he came in. He had largely left her alone and returned to London on the Sunday afternoon. Not once did he even try to apologise. Perhaps if he had, he might have changed her mind but his complete lack of remorse for murdering their child, only served to strengthen her resolve.

She resumed her afternoon walks once he was gone and wondered just when Martha and Hope were going to come for her. She headed into the trees, as she had been doing for the past few days, but tried not to get her hopes up too far.

She hadn't gone very far when movement from her left caught her eye and she turned to see Hope riding towards her on Shelly, with MacDuff trotting alongside as usual. She smiled as Hope trotted closer but it quickly faded as the reality of what was about to happen dawned on her.

Hope didn't have time to reassure her friend yet, so she simply offered her hand so that she could pull Honoria up onto the horse.

“But my-”

“We have to hurry,” Hope urged. “If you are to disappear, you can't go back for anything. I have packed what you will need for now and you will have the money to buy anything that you don't have.”

Honoria took the hand and allowed herself to be pulled up behind Hope. She sat behind the saddle, her legs to one side of the horse, and put her arms around Hope's waist to steady herself.

“Hold tight,” Hope warned, and urged her horse into a gentle canter.

Honoria clung tightly to her friend as they headed deeper into the forest, until they stopped at the edge of the Marchwood estate, beside a pony and gig.

“It's all right,” Hope assured Honoria, who had clung tighter as she saw a strange woman with the gig. “This is Mary, my aunt.”

Hope disentangled Honoria's arms and Mary helped her down to the ground. Hope then jumped off and tied her horse's reins to a branch.

“Mary is going with you,” Hope explained as she went to the gig and retrieved a bag. “She'll explain the whole plan to you but don't worry, I'm sure you two will get on well together.”

“You aren't coming with me?” Honoria asked Hope, looking confused.

“I can't,” Hope said, putting the bag down and turning to her friend. “Our plan is to make it look as if you were attacked but if I am missing also, Malcolm will know that we've run away.”

“Won't he still guess?” Honoria asked.

“Perhaps, but he won't have any proof and that is what counts.” Hope enveloped Honoria in her arms. “I wish I could go with you. I'll miss you.”

“And I you.”

Both women had tears in their eyes and clung tightly to each other, until Mary coughed politely, reminding them that time was of the essence.

“Here.” Hope said, pulling away and handing Honoria the bag. “You must change into these clothes. They're middle class, so you won't be so easily recognisable.”