Beyond a Doubt

chapter Twenty-Eight




Lucy lifted her jaw from her chest. Sometimes Bryce’s innocent behavior was surprising. Imagine him thinking she’d made a bath for them to share! That was a big jump from their intimate moment earlier. Her cheeks burned with remembrance.

What if Bryce changed his mind and decided to come back? To be safe, Lucy secured her door before she finished disrobing. She slipped into the hot water, and her muscles slowly relaxed. She spent time working each tense area until she felt like butter melting in a pan.

With her head leaned back and water up to her neck, she mentally worked to categorize the list she’d received. Activities written on the paper included a masked ball, a day at “the office”, and numerous days in the park. Most of these were commonplace and had been used before on multiple occasions. The challenge would be to take these recurrent themes and come up with something new. There had to be a different way to meet her contact and share the information she had.

She sighed. There was one thing she knew for certain. Bryce would need a distraction. A simple mission for the man would never do. She tapped her finger against her chin. She needed something that would occupy him every day for the next week. A thought struck her and she sat up. Bryce didn’t need to stay. He’d more than fulfilled their initial agreement. Perhaps this was the solution she sought. Push him away, allow him to return to his home. Then she would have all the time she needed.

Lucy pondered the thought as she finished her bath. In a daze, she climbed from the lukewarm water. When dried and clothed, she made her way to the library. The room remained, in large part, the way it had been at her father’s passing.

Papers sat in neat piles upon the wooden desk. Books were liberally scattered upon tables. Dust touched everything.

Lucy hadn’t been in the house for some time. The butler, Thomas, had been given charge as overseer. It seemed the man had been slacking somewhat in his responsibilities. The cupboard had been empty upon their arrival and the dust had threatened to take over their lungs. Ashes rested in the fireplace, perhaps from her last visit into the city.

Shaking these thoughts from her head, Lucy became lost in memories.

Upon her father’s untimely demise, Lucy had found herself in a bit of a sticky situation. Motherless and raised primarily by a doting father, Lucy thought no secrets had been kept between them. Then he passed, and Lucy discovered things she’d rather not have known.

One night her father, a lawyer by trade, had been late in coming home for supper. Knowing the extent of her father’s business dealings, Lucy fretted until Thomas went out to search. When the butler returned empty-handed an hour later, Lucy’s worry had only increased.

Lucy had begged Thomas to continue his search but he said she was acting ridiculously. She beseeched him. Reminder after reminder had been put his way, as she continued to insist that it was unlike Mr. Lombard to be late.

Without thinking about the hour, the nip in the wind, or the dangers that awaited a lone woman on the streets of London, Lucy had finally rushed outside. Thick gray clouds had loomed overhead. Streaks of lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating her every step.

First she had gone to her father’s office and banged on the door, causing a neighbor to come outside.

“Afraid he’s left, missy. Can’t you see the lights are out? No one can work without a candle at this hour.”

Lucy had backed away and decided to follow the most logical path for her father to use. The lightning had ceased and the sky darkened further. Fear had settled in her heart.

Lucy still remembered the clop of horses, and men as they called boisterously to women of ill repute. Individuals hidden by the dark shadows had snaked out their hands, and Lucy had hastened away.

She raced ahead, sending frequent glances over her shoulder. With a fervent hope her father had returned home, she had set her foot to that end.

Although Lucy was deep in thought, a moan had caught her attention. She’d passed two brick buildings close together, parted only by a small alleyway. Deep within this area a man cried for help. She had stopped and placed a steadying hand on the brick wall. Lucy had wondered if she should go inside, and had decided she should, so as not to leave one stone unturned in the search.

A tentative step forward, and she had been consumed in darkness. She had found herself sealed in between the two buildings, and if the man planned to trick her she had nowhere to run.

With each step Lucy had taken, the noise of pain had grown louder.

“Help…”

The sound of the voice had urged her on. Impossible to see because of the height of the buildings, she’d grazed the bricks and shuffled her feet, kicking at debris, while trying to discover the creator of the mournful sound.

A burst of lightning had rent the air; a dark-stained hand reached out toward her. She covered her mouth to stifle a scream. Something glinted in the light: the ring.

“Father?”

“Oh, Lucille. What are you doing here?”

“Father?” she cried as she fell to her knees. “What happened to you?”

“Lucille, this is no time for hysterics. Assist me to my feet.”

The sound of pain had dissipated, replaced by his normal confidence. Regardless of the change in behavior, Lucy had known something was wrong.

He had wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and pressed his hand tightly to his abdomen. The absence of light had left her vision restricted, hampering her ability to discern her father’s problem.

As the house had loomed closer, he’d leaned more and more upon her. By then she’d dragged him. She had opened her mouth to cry out for help, but her father had ordered her to remain silent. With every muscle stretched to its limit, she had maneuvered him up the stairs. Once there, it had been all she could do to pull his dead weight across the threshold and inside the house.

He collapsed. Thomas stood there, staring wide-eyed at them. No doubt he had been less than thrilled about the mess.

“Thomas, I’ll help you clean later. Right now we must help Father. I believe he is injured.”

Confusion had tugged at her already frazzled thoughts. Why hadn’t Thomas moved? She had wanted to scream at him. She had wanted to cry. “Don’t just stand there, we need to help him!”

“But my lady—“

“Thomas, please leave us.”

Shocked, Lucy couldn’t believe that voice had come from her father. It had been raspy and gurgling, as if filled with fluid.

Thomas had left, and her father had reached for her with his blood-stained hand. She had recoiled in horror. “Father! Lie still. I’ll send Thomas to fetch the doctor. Don’t you worry. I’ll take care of you.”

A smile had rested upon his blue-tinged lips. “I’m sure you will.”

“What happened?” she had asked.

His voice had grown quiet as he said, “I believe someone took offense at my profession and shot me.”

Blood soaked his chest. A large gaping hole showed in the fabric of his tunic. Lucy had attempted to pull free from his grasp, her sense of urgency increasing.

The pressure from her father’s grip on her arm had tightened. “Lucille, it is too late.”

“Nay!”

“Listen. I haven’t much time. Just because I’m going away—“

“I don’t want to hear this!”

“Lucy, please,” he had said, the words strained. “The paper in the desk must reach its destination. And remember, never let them know your true identity.”

Lucy had held her father in her arms, and listened to his whispered words until he took his dying breath. Louis Lombard was no more.

The sound of wind howling beyond the library window brought her back to the present. Sitting behind the desk, she steepled her fingers and glanced outside.

It was time to make a decision. Either she should let Bryce help her, or she needed to send him away. She knew what her mind said, but what did her heart say?