“Who shot him?” asked Bryce.
“Don’t know for sure. His daughter, Lucille, found him in an alley, brought him home, and he died. No one ever did discover the culprit, to my knowledge. And after that Lucille was never the same. First never leaving the house, then all of a sudden becoming flighty and you never saw her at home.
“Why, before her father’s passing, that girl stayed gone. Always travelled with her friends and did what she wanted. That happens when a father raises a girl alone.
“Winifred and I tried to help but he wouldn’t have it. The old man thought it his duty to take care of his child. And of course we moved aside and let him. Didn’t stop praying for the child, though. Her mother would have wanted that.
“Anyway, I’m getting away from the tale. Right after her father’s demise, the girl holed up in the house and refused to see the light of day. Then without warning, like I said, she stayed gone. But you know this is the first time in my remembrance that she’s brought someone home with her.”
At the end of her words, she graced him with a huge smile. “My sister and I aren’t nosey, just diligent. Got to keep the neighborhood safe. Hate to say this, but Winifred thought you were burying Lucille’s body in the backyard. That’s why she hit you. But I tried to tell her you weren’t in one place long enough for a deep hole. What person with sense buries someone on top of the ground? Why, one big rain and the dirt washes away and you have a body sticking up and that is a suspicious thing. Of course, you would be long gone by that point. Which is why Winifred couldn’t wait to come over and check.”
They reached the house next door and walked inside. The place was clutter-free, airy, dainty, and feminine, decorated in whites and yellows. Since Bryce was covered in dirt and horse droppings, he didn’t want to take the first step inside.
“Come on, laddy. I won’t let her bite you.”
“But I’m messy.”
“Oh, we won’t pay no mind. We like to clean. I’m afraid we are too old and decrepit to get the place dirty enough to satisfy our work ethic. So come on in, you’ll be doing us a favor.”
Bryce hesitated but followed the lady’s instructions. Winnie had opened a flood of questions in his mind, many of which couldn’t be reconciled until Lucy returned. If she returned.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Reginald’s voice captivated not only her but everyone else in the room. A woman from the crowd fanned herself as she wobbled on her feet in a fake swoon. Her hand waving back and forth reminded Lucy of her mission.
Since she was standing at the back of the group, Lucy could move away unnoticed.
It took only a few minutes to locate the place she needed. She slipped a hand into her bag and grabbed the fan with great care. She glanced around to ensure she was alone.
A sound like thunder echoed inside the stone building. She released the fan into her bag as the ground moved beneath her feet. Rows of soldiers entered the residence, sending people scattering. Some of the soldiers entered the room where Lucy stood, and her stomach clenched with fear. She touched the object inside her pouch and changed her expression into a look of shock.
The owner of the manse stepped forward, indignation stirring him to speech. “I demand to know the meaning of your intrusion.”
One soldier stepped forward. He unfurled a scroll and read aloud for all in attendance. Lucy ignored the words and batted her lashes at the ridiculously long title for the Queen and King, but when the soldier said, “We’ve been sent to escort Sir Reginald Spalding from your residence,” she lifted her chin and listened with rapt attention.
After the pronouncement the soldier stepped back in line and clamped his mouth shut. Several ladies in the crowd fell against their companions. Lucy mimicked them, fanning herself with her hand and using the wall for support.
Reginald walked forward, his arms stretched out in a non-threatening way. “I’m here. Please don’t bother my host. I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding.”
The stony-faced guards grabbed his upper arms. The lines of his mouth tensed. Reginald’s gaze shifted as if looking for assistance. As Reginald was dragged from the room, an object swayed from his neck, catching the light and creating shadows on the wall.
Sweat beaded her brow as she moved amongst the crowd to get a closer look and suddenly covered her mouth in shock. A compass! It lay against Reginald’s chest, the metal rim catching the candlelight. She clutched her hands to her sides, her stomach twisting in knots.
Sneaking around the room, through a set of open doors, Lucy left the gasping crowd and followed the guards. Not willing to risk exposure, she stayed far behind.
Her breath came in short rasping gasps as she struggled to keep up without getting too close. The group slid into a narrow alley. Warning bells went off in her head.
“I believe there has been a mistake,” said Reginald Spalding.
“No mistake,” said the guard.
“But there must be. I’ve done nothing wrong. Now, if you will politely release me, I’ll return to my friends. And I’ll be sure to explain it to them. There will be no hard feelings.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”
“And why not?” said Reginald, his spine erect.
Lucy was surprised by the man’s haughtiness. Backed into an alley with ten armed guards pushing against him, Reginald still managed to maintain his composure.
The soldier’s eyes darkened, his lips pulled downward into a sneer, as words of anger coursed from his thin lips. “It’s people like you who bring us to shame.”
Reginald didn’t interrupt. His frown was the only indication something was amiss.
“Because of you Protestants trying to change the way of things, I have to leave my warm bed and supple wife and hunt you down. Then once I find your yellow hide, I have to do something about it. I personally can’t stand the smell of rotten flesh, so I’ve taken to disposing of traitors in a different manner.”
“Sir, you must have me confused w—“
“You are French?”
“I hail from France, yes,” answered Reginald, his finger running under his collar.
“And do you or do you not belong to the Huguenots? Hmm? Just in case you haven’t noticed, England has a Catholic monarchy at the moment.”
No more words were spoken as a knife plunged into Reginald’s heart. The hilt stuck out and he grabbed it as he fell to the ground. Lucy stifled a gasp and ran away. The last words the guard spoke echoed behind her. “Guess that takes care of Joshua.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
The twins plied Bryce with tea and scones until he thought he would burst from fullness. He offered to help them with some outside work and they instantly became his best friends.
Their strange antics kept him distracted. They told stories, made jokes, and kept him talking. By the time they stopped, the sun was descending.
“What a day,” Winifred said. “I dare say we’ve never had such fun.”
“Ah, if we have, I don’t remember it,” replied Winnie, a smile covering her lean face.
“We will have to do this more often,” said Winifred.
“Indeed, we will.”
Back and forth the words volleyed. At the end of their conversation, Bryce’s neck ached.
“Would you enjoy that, lad?” asked Winifred with a shy wink.
“I believe I would,” he answered, having missed the initial question.
Their two sets of hands clapped. Winifred continued, “Delightful. Next time we must invite Lucille to join us. She will be upset about missing our visit. The child always did love a good tea party. She was so young when her mother passed, why, was it just minutes?”
“You are correct, dear Winifred. She passed only minutes after birthing the lass. Never seen a man so distraught as Louis. Refused to touch his own daughter for weeks, he did. Why, if it hadn’t been for the nurse I don’t know what would have happened to the poor child.”
“But do you remember how he doted o
n her as she aged? Guilt-ridden, he was. After he neglected her and came to his senses, he never went back.”
“You are right, dear sister. Lavished the child, he did, with every conceivable convenience. Imagine hiring an inventor to run a hose from the tub to an outside drain! The entire neighborhood thought him crazy or at least unstable, but it worked.”
“And her pony!”
“Oh, she had the finest pony. They say it was of a royal bloodline.”
“We must be making her sound terrible.” One sister slapped the other on the arm.
“You must understand she never asked for those things, oh no. In fact, she gave so much to the children's home, it was unbelievable. Her father Louis, God rest his soul, just bought it anyway. He was an odd bird.”
“Odd bird, indeed.”
Bryce had trouble keeping up with who said what. However, the words they spoke challenged his mind. He couldn’t visualize the person they spoke of. A woman with a silver spoon in her mouth. Albeit she’d avoided this lifestyle to some extent, she’d still been raised as a privileged person. Raised to live in high society, she held the ability to fit in with every person she came in contact with. The lass was an enigma.
“Oh, look at the time.”
Bryce jumped from his seat as one of the women mentioned the time. The lateness of the hour and his absence from the house next door had surely worried Lucy. As he looked out the window and tried to think of a way to extricate himself from the women without hurting their feelings, one of the twins placed a delicious smelling treat in front of his face.
“Please take this pie,” said Winnie.
“Blackberry pie is Lucy’s favorite,” added Winifred.
“What? I thought it was apple pie?” asked Winnie.
“Apple, you say? Are you sure? I’m still thinking blackberry,” said Winifred.
Bryce left the two old women arguing. If they wanted Lucy to have the thing, they could bring it by later. The yard opened onto the street and Bryce walked in front of the two houses to reach Lucy’s home. Lights blazed through the curtained windows.
Slipping up the walk and through the door, Bryce heard a racket. The sound came from the study. Still filthy from earlier in the day, Bryce avoided the carpet as he walked toward the noise.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Lucy fled the scene. She stumbled upon the uneven ground as bile rose in her throat. Fear coursed through her veins as her feet slapped the sidewalk in a run. A black hackney loomed nearby. She quickly boarded it and gave directions to her street, avoiding the exact address for her home.
Once the driver stopped, Lucy stepped off. She waited until he left, and then ran around the corner to her own home. She flung the door wide, burst through, and skidded to a stop in the study.
Where was it? Books flew through the air as she searched through every one. No stray papers fluttered to the ground. Next she searched the desktop. After finding nothing on top, she pulled the desk drawers open and threw them to the floor, letting the contents spill out.
Spotting nothing, Lucy lit every candle she could find. The house blazed with light, and Lucy returned to the study. She lifted the Mai Ogi fan. Light hit the material and cast a shadow, revealing the secret message.
As far as Lucy knew her father had held only one piece of the puzzle. The agent received just the coded message. From there the coded message passed to the contact. Perhaps the contact held the key? Or the message passed hands again; Lucy didn’t know.
What she did know was that her contact, Joshua, or in this case Reginald Spalding, was dead, and that because she didn’t have the ability to decode the message, the situation hadn’t changed. This was still a matter of life and death.
Somewhere in this room there had to be information on who to report to if Joshua perished.
Lucy continued to search for the information she needed. She removed portraits from the walls, overturned furniture, and pulled coverings to the side to search the stuffing. The dirt from plants she scooped out into containers. Surely Father had created a hiding spot in this room. With persistence, the place would be found.
She rapped the walls with her knuckles. Pain shot through her hands and up her arm. Around the room, from floor to ceiling, she worked. She crawled toward the door, stopping as her eyes spied the thick legs of someone familiar. Bryce.
She lifted her head, her gaze slowly taking in the figure before her. The expression upon his face showed confusion and genuine concern. Lucy ignored him and continued her hunt.
When every surface had been tapped and touched, Lucy sat in a chair behind the desk. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She held her fist to the air and shook it. Why was this happening? Mission after mission successfully completed, until now.
Without Joshua, her link to the underground died. Without the code’s key, she couldn’t decipher the message. Without a contact list, she couldn’t pass the message along to the next person in line. What was she to do? The entire situation was a hopeless mess.
****
Words poured forth from Lucy’s mouth in an incoherent babble. Lucy looked like a little lost child sitting in the ransacked study, a mound of papers surrounding her, portraits lying upon the floor, and dirt engrained in the rugs.
Bryce approached her with a slow, reserved gait. It wouldn’t do to startle the lass and send her away. Each step he made was carefully placed. Unsure of the importance of the articles scattered about the room, he didn’t wish to risk ruining any of it.
When Bryce reached her side, he squatted next to her. He expected the babbling wild-eyed girl to continue, but instead she stopped talking and threw herself into his open arms.
“What am I going to do?” she cried.
He massaged the upper part of her back and shoulders. He remained silent, uncertain as to what she wanted or needed.
A steady flow of tears soaked his tunic. He tried to follow the meaning of her one-sided conversation, but it was impossible. Messages, shadows, missing papers; none of it made sense to him. Hopefully when Lucy calmed down, a more rational conversation could ensue.
After about ten minutes, Lucy leaned back, wiped the tears from her face, cleared her throat, and stood. “I’m sorry.”
Bryce waited patiently for more explanation, but was disappointed when she said nothing more. He watched in confusion as Lucy resumed her search. Finally she stopped, stood in the middle of the room, and screamed. The sound echoed off the walls and reverberated along his spine.
Bryce rushed to her side. Worry gnawed at his gut. What could have caused such a change in her demeanor? “Lucy, what is wrong with ye?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” she replied.
“Try me.”
Lucy rounded on him. A fierce glint lit her eye as she pushed him into a corner. “I’m a spy, an undercover agent for the Huguenots in France. I work to help them keep their property and lives intact. Tonight I watched my contact die. A dagger consigned him to an early grave.
“Now I have a secret message I can’t decode, nor do I know who to pass it along to. All I do know is, if this message is late in its arrival, someone will likely perish.”
Out of breath, Lucy’s chest rose and fell as she circled him. Bryce’s mind filled with every piece of information Lucy spewed upon him. What did it all mean?
A question formed on his lips but was interrupted by a knock. Bryce and Lucy turned their heads at the same time. Before either one of them could move, they heard the squeak of an opening door.
“You forgot your pie.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Hours later, after Winnie and Winifred’s departure, Bryce continued to process all the startling information. Lucy Bard was really Lucille Lombard. In one afternoon she had gone from unlikely socialite to spy.
From what he gathered, her father Louis had been the original spy, and this had gotten him killed. His dying wish had been for Lucy to deliver one important message. But once involved, Lucy had f
elt obligated to continue. The cause needed her.
Besides, the acts required of her were quite simple. She visited well-to-do Scottish families. Because of King Henry II of France’s ties with Scotland through the young Mary, only child of James V, word often seeped over borders and across the lips of Scottish nobles. When the ale flowed, so did the words of conspiracy.
The coded messages were placed on common objects which Lucy carried from Scotland to England upon her person. The simple process had held little to no complications until now.
“What about yer companion?” Bryce asked.
When they had first met, Lucy had spoken of a traveling companion who’d stolen her goods. With all the lies told, Bryce couldn’t help but wonder if this had been a fabrication as well.
“Ah, Charles, the shyster. He offered to ride along with me for company, but at the first opportunity he left with my trunk. Took everything I owned in one fell swoop. Mostly he took my clothing. He took nothing that would lead anyone to believe I was anything other than a lady on holiday.”
“Was he searching for the message?”
“I don’t know. It is possible. However, I don’t know how he could have guessed my identity. I assure you, I practice the utmost discretion. No one has ever looked at me in suspicion. Trust me when I say I have seen others under a certain scrutiny which I assure you I have yet to suffer.”
Bryce would never forget her face, so he found it hard to believe that others could. Perhaps Charles had been watching her for some time and she was unaware. If she was always at certain places, it would be fairly easy to realize her involvement. If plots continued to be thwarted after her visits to Scotland, wouldn’t someone begin to suspect her?
“Nevertheless, you do see my predicament.”
Bryce nodded.
Beyond a Doubt Page 10
