Beyond a Doubt

chapter Forty-Five




Lucy followed the two men, fretting all the way. By the time they arrived at George’s office, Lucy was distraught. George opened the door. One step inside the small office and Lucy knew exactly what had happened.

The man who’d left the office earlier, the one who’d seemed so familiar, had been the man who had followed Bryce and her in the park. The same man likely held the responsibility for ruining her home and now destroying Mr. Hampstead’s office.

The elderly lawyer tiptoed across the threshold. His eyes widened and he placed a hand to his chest as if in shock. “My office. Wh-what happened?”

“I’m sorry,” Lucy said.

“What could they possibly want? There was nothing here of any value. Nothing but old books and case documents.”

“Mr. Hampstead, let us help you clean this up,” Lucy said.

He nodded and went to the corner. Righting an overturned chair, George sat and rested his head in his hands. Bryce moved farther into the room. He picked up books, rifled through the pages and placed them back on the shelf in no particular order. Lucy picked up a book and did the same.

Depression hit a few hours later when they realized the mess before them was their only lead. The odds of finding what they sought had just become more dismal.

As they worked, George mumbled and muttered under his breath. Suddenly he stopped talking and a wail rent the air.

Bryce looked at her expectantly, but Lucy felt lost and didn’t know what to do.

Mr. Hampstead held a dried rose. He turned it over and over before offering it to Lucy. She stroked the brittle petals.

George said, “This was the first rose I ever gave my wife.”

Lucy waited. George sighed and said, “She kept everything.”

He placed the rose back in a book and continued speaking. “My wife was not perfect, mind you, but she was close to it. Almost completely blind, she was, and the physicians said they could do nothing for her. She only had vision on the sides, you see. But did you know she cared for the young children at church? Yes indeed, if a mother had more than one babe, she would go sit with them and help. Why, that woman was dear to so many hearts.”

Upon hearing those last words, Lucy dropped the book she was holding, startling the others. She grabbed the sides of Mr. Hampstead’s sagging jowls and gave him a huge kiss. Then she grabbed Bryce’s hand and ran out the door, leaving a gawking Mr. Hampstead behind. Exuberance propelled her forward.

“Where are we goin’—“

“Bryce, come on. We have to hurry.”

Bryce followed. When they arrived at their destination, Lucy held up her hand to stop Bryce. The entrance was large and foreboding. Stone lions perched like sentries above. Iron bars closed the place to visitors. A chain dangled and clanked in the wind.

A sense of solemnity overcame her. With one hand, she touched the cold metal and pushed. The chain clattered to the ground. A loud creaking rent the air.

A thin white mist covered the ground and moved aside as they walked. Perfectly trimmed hedges circled the place and filtered through the thick white veil.

Total silence surrounded them. No crickets chirped. No birds tweeted. No frogs croaked. Lucy could only hear the soft sounds of their breathing.

Each marker in the graveyard was unique. Names, dates, and designs all represented the person resting underneath.

Lucy knew the exact spot. Walking the well-worn path, she found the stone and dropped to her knees. Carved in the headstone, the words read, Laura Lombard, born 1517 as a human, taken in 1537 as an angel. The dearest to my heart. Song of Solomon 2”

She stroked the engraved letters. Why hadn’t she thought of these words before? Had this been what the lady at the ball meant?

As she placed her fingers in the deep groove, she closed her eyes. Knowing the location of the phrase didn’t help her solve the puzzle. But it was a start.

“Lucy, that word there with the number, does that come from the Bible?” asked Bryce.

“What?” Her pulse thumped wildly against her chest. A memory of her father returned. “Every answer you seek is in God’s word. Promise me you won’t forget.”

“Bryce, that’s it!”

Bryce shrugged.

“We need to get back to the house. I think I know what we need to do.”

The two of them rushed home. Winnie and Winifred confirmed no one had entered the Lombard house in their absence. Still, they approached using caution.

Lucy stifled a sob as she pushed open the door. The house was beyond recognition. One look at the place and she didn’t know if she even wanted to repair it.

Sucking in a deep breath, she stepped over broken furniture, smashed portraits, and torn tapestries to reach the study. The fate of this room mimicked the others. Pages of books lay torn and ripped upon the floor. Desk drawers had been pulled from the framework and broken into tiny slivers. Nothing was organized or in its place.

She sighed. “This will take forever.”

Bryce spun her around until she faced him. “Earlier we thought we would never find the key. Now look how much closer we are. Don’t despair. Together we will find what we seek. Can ye tell me where the book generally rested?”

She pointed to the shelf and Bryce followed her lead. He reached above her head and grabbed the Bible. He faced her with a smile on his face. “I believe I found it.”

He placed the book on the desk. The large Matthew’s Bible covered most of the surface. They found the chapter mentioned on the tombstone. As they read, Lucy pulled out the fan. Light projected through the thin material, causing the embedded message to appear on the wall. She compared the letters and words and matched them up. Once finished, Lucy collapsed in the chair. The message was clear and it wasn’t good.

****

At the meeting of the Huguenots, Admiral Coligny must meet his end. You must not fail.

Bryce's concern increased with Lucy’s changing demeanor. She had a forlorn look on her face and she sat stiff and straight. No doubt the message troubled her. Bryce knew little of the French Protestant movement, but what he did understand disturbed him.

First of all, the movement to convert Catholics to Protestants was not accepted by the French monarchy. In fact, King Henry II of France had slashed out tongues, burned people at the stake, and commandeered the property of many in this persuasion. Because of such atrocities, the people had begun to contemplate a move of the believers to a colony in Brazil. The Admiral mentioned in the encrypted note was leading this movement. The admission of the Admiral’s faith placed him in grave danger. Popularity with the people was probably all that currently kept him alive.

At the masquerade ball, private conversations he’d overheard had led Bryce to believe the Admiral had been warned about potential harm but refused to move the date of the colony’s announcement. Lucy knew this as well. Now that she knew the goal of the message was indeed to end the Admiral’s life, what would she do?

Suddenly Lucy broke from her stupor and ran upstairs. When she returned, she held a bag stuffed and overflowing with gowns and shoes. One foot from a pair of hose dragged across the floor. Undecipherable mutterings fell from her lips. Her gaze darted this way and that, not appearing to see anything. She clenched the small leather pouch tightly to her chest.

She had one foot out the door when Bryce caught her. One jerk and Lucy landed back inside. He closed the door.

Bryce held her in his arms, aware he might be causing bruises but unwilling to risk her escape. “Where are ye goin’?”

“To Caen, France.”

“Lucy, we need to talk.”

“What’s there to talk about? The Admiral is going to die if I don’t stop him from speaking at that event. And if he dies, we also lose our greatest hope of securing religious worship free from persecution.”

Bryce held back. Love for this woman filled him. Should he declare his feelings and whisk her away? Should he help her with this quest? He needed more time to think.

“Lucy, wait until tomorrow.”

“But—“

“Nothing good will come of rushin’ away tonight. Ye need a plan.”

Her shoulders relaxed beneath his fingertips and he loosened his grip. A rush of breath escaped his throat. Bryce led her to the living area and they sat. He removed the bag from her fingers and set it aside. Leaning over, Bryce touched her lips with his own.

The kiss lasted for several minutes. When they drew apart Bryce said, “I love ye.” Tears coursed down her face and he wiped them away. “I would never have realized it had I not been drownin’ in the river and ye hadn’t come to my rescue.”

Lucy remained silent, the tears now a steady stream.

“Why don’t ye rest while I fix something to eat and prepare ye a room?”

Lucy nodded.

The rest of the afternoon Bryce worked. Happily he cooked, cleaned, and prepared a safe place for Lucy to sleep. At least Bryce figured it was safe. The men had not returned in a few days. Hopefully they assumed what they sought wasn’t here. Little did they know it had been under their noses the entire time.

They enjoyed dinner in silence. Lucy didn’t comment on his simple cooking skills, or anything else. During the entire meal, Bryce stared at Lucy’s flushed face.

When the meal ended, Bryce led Lucy to her room, opened her door, and enjoyed her gasp of surprise. The room was tidy. The covers on her bed were soft and inviting. Yet still she said nothing.

After leaving her to rest, Bryce returned to his own room. Turning down the coverlet, Bryce crawled between the cool covers. Once settled, he realized Lucy hadn’t uttered one word all afternoon.