Page 22 of A Mayfair Maid

“But then, they were honorable wounds,” Marilee said.

When Peggy nodded, Marilee felt that the fates had been twice crossed against her. If Lord Bennington had known that his eldest had lived, he would have never required Miss Caroline’s hand, or rather her production of a suitable heir. Suitable being relative, since Lord Edward would have been the true heir, useless or no. But the old duke had wanted a new son to train up in his methods of calculating manipulation and devilry since he said his younger son would not suit. If this gentleman had made his reveal but a few weeks earlier, then both Marilee and Miss Caroline would still be back home in the safe comforts of Northwick. Fate had been unkind to them both.

“So her betrothed is alive?” Marilee pressed.

“It appears so,” Peggy grinned. “One can only guess that the news may be the reason for her outrage yesterday. She had thought herself free of him and still in line for the title of duchess by marrying the younger brother, and now, the elder stands in the way. Even the evil must get their just rewards.”

Marilee pondered the situation. If the late duke’s son had truly returned, then her own situation was all the better for it. It made one more person who would search for answers about the old duke’s untimely death and the attack of the highwaymen. One more person who would search for Miss Caroline’s, and thereby Marilee’s, captors and fulfillment of the ransoms. Surely the new duke would not let such a random act go unchecked. His father had been murdered, and the eldest son, not killed in war as suspected. Strange happenings were afoot.

Marilee ate her porridge in silence while she listened to Peggy’s gossip. Ever since their most recent encounter with Mr. Crowley the laundress’s spirits had seemed bolstered. She had pondered at length Peggy’s acceptance of the help the man had offered and decided that it could be done with caution. Marilee may have been witness to a murder, but she was also witness to the many atrocities of this house.

Marilee was unsure if Lady Lydia’s father actually was involved or not. She had never seen the man, and Lady Lydia, if she could be believed, said his brain was addled. Marilee was inclined to believe her. Surely if the lord of the house had his faculties, none of this would be happening, or he would have taken a bigger part in it, if he too were a villain. Marilee shook her head with frustration and thought, if nothing else they could help to bring down Lord Edward and Lady Lydia through their wayward accounts. By doing so, they could hope to save all the girls who had been imprisoned in the Blackwell household, but they would have to be careful.

After their freedom was ensured, she could search for Miss Caroline, so long as her own involvement remained undiscovered. That, was not too much to ask for the sake of innocents. Mr. Crowley was only after proof of the wrongdoing as pertained to finances, she decided. He knew nothing of the murder of the duke and his men. Even if he did, Marilee did not think that it was tied to this wrongdoing against women. The madam at the brothel had seemed more than put out by her men’s misdeeds. They may have been thugs and vagabonds, but they did not seem to have the intelligence and foresight of intentional murders. They were not supposed to have murdered a duke; she was sure. Rob a carriage perhaps, but not murder a duke, and they certainly were not supposed to have taken two ladies hostage. It had been mere bad luck that their carriage had taken that path that fateful night. They had not even meant to be on that road.

As terrible as Lady Lydia may be, Marilee had seen nothing to indicate that the lady was that evil. She had been gleeful, yes, at the notice of the duke’s death, but that was likely the result of stepping closer to the title and her relationship with Lord Edward. After all, the old duke was not a pleasant sort of fellow. Of this fact, Marilee was well aware. Although Marilee and Miss Caroline had not wished the old man dead, they certainly would not, and did not shed tears at his passing. So it was that Marilee had decided to hold her own truths in check. Until she was certain that Miss Caroline was safe, there could be no revelation of her witness to the murders. No hint that she desired retribution for the deed. If even a whisper reached the thugs or the madam, then they were likely to cut all ties and finish her. No, until the ransoms were fulfilled, she could not reveal that she was anything more than a poor indentured servant. She would help the young Mr. Crowley, but with caution, because it was clear he knew about stolen goods and turned a blind eye. How much could she trust him when even the smallest misstep could wreak catastrophic results?

“Peggy,” she began, though not knowing exactly how to warn her friend of the intense need for caution. “We do not really know this Mr. Crowley. We must have discretion in what we tell him lest it fall back to us for the punishment. He does, after all, work for Lady Lydia.”

Peggy pondered Marilee’s words and then nodded. “True, but he seems a genuine sort, and he did help you and Lucy. And he does not work for them so much as he is tasked with seeing to the paperwork involved in their shipping endeavors or so he explained to me while you slept.”

Marilee bit her lip. She could not reveal that she thought the shipping endeavors were actually stolen goods without revealing the whole of her story. Perhaps, Peggy deserved that truth, but Marilee didn’t want to put that burden upon her just yet and even if Mr. Crowley was genuine, he was exceedingly idealistic.

“He did help Lucy and myself, and for that I owe him my gratitude,” Marilee nodded, “but I’ll not put my own life at risk because he has some naïve thought that he can right the wrongs of the world by revealing the duplicities of a peer. How many lords and ladies are corrupt? How many beat their servants and toss them away without a thought? How many have debt and duplicitous financial dealings? How many are truly as good as they would like us all to believe?”

Marilee felt a bit of shame at her statement. Miss Caroline was kind. She was a good employer and an honest lady. She was everything Marilee had ever hoped for in a friend as well as an employer, but Marilee had no illusions to the fact that those traits were not commonplace in the highborn. Miss Caroline’s father was a fair leader, a smart landowner, but even he had grown cold and distant when he had once been a warm and loving man. Time and circumstance changes people, she thought. Even herself. She found that she had become much less trusting and more cynical since her incarceration here.

Even Marilee’s house of employ prior to Gravesend Manor had been harsh and firm in their management. Oh, they had been nothing compared to Lady Lydia, but they had not been kind. They had hardly viewed their servants as people, merely tools for their own leisure. That, she had decided, was the norm and she had been fortunate to come across Miss Caroline when she had.

“No,” Peggy agreed, “they are not all kind or true.” The laundress fell silent for a long while and Marilee wondered where her thoughts had gone. Somewhere deep in the past, she suspected, because after a time a lone tear rolled down the brunette’s cheek.

“What is it?” Marilee asked.

“Do you really not think that Mr. Crowley can help us?” she asked after a time.

“I wish I could say that he could,” Marilee sighed. “But I am unsure. He is but one man, and I have never once heard of a family such as the Blackwells being unable to have their way either through payment or connections. Even if Mr. Crowley’s intentions are good, the Blackwells are gentry. He is not. I think he may be overly optimistic.”

“He is an idealist.” Peggy mused with a soft smile.

“That he is,” Marilee smiled in return. It was good to see that there were people in the world who had such positive views, but it was only a matter of time before his optimistic outlook was crushed by the harsh realities of the world. Marilee had learned as much one night on a dark highway road when thugs got away with murder in cold blood.

“Kate…” Peggy looked up at her with tear-filled eyes once more. “I have to get out of here. This is the first real hope that I have had in years, the first person who may truly be able to help.”

“We will,” Marilee promised, and she told herself that she believed it even though the words fell flat.

“Can I tell you something?” Peggy bit her lip and seemed to question whether she should proceed. “Something I have told no one in the whole of the time since I was taken?”

“Of course,” Marilee replied in earnest. She felt a twinge of guilt that Peggy wanted to be open with her, even when she herself was keeping a monumental secret. Some day she hoped to share the whole with Peggy, but she could not risk Miss Caroline’s life on supposition; not yet.

“I could tell no one. I could trust no one.” She bit her lip considering and Marilee waited patiently.

“I have a son,” Peggy said with a shy smile. “His name is Adam and He’ll be seven this spring.”

“Peggy!” Marilee exclaimed, completely floored by the admission. She did not think that Peggy could have been old enough to have a son of that age.

Peggy made a shushing noise and looked over her shoulder toward the door. “No one knows. I know they would have found a way to use him against me. But it has been four long years and I will never stop trying to get back to him.”

Marilee felt conflicting emotions. First, she was happy for Peggy, that she had so much pride and love for the little boy that she veritably beamed at the mention of him. Then, she was overcome with sadness. Four years kept away from her child. Four years trapped and not knowing how he fared, or if he would even remember her. Four years of keeping this secret; for Marilee knew without a doubt that threats to the child would have been used to keep Peggy compliant if anyone knew the secret. He would have been such a young age when she had disappeared. Marilee asked if he was with Peggy’s family, but she shook her head with a frown.

---