Marriage by Proxy

by Cathy Duke

  Without warning, the frantic horse threw Joseph to the ground, rearing and bellowing. Joseph was in no condition to calm the horse. Suddenly Joseph gave a short yelp, and there was a snap of bones as he tumbled out of control. In an effort to right himself, the horse stepped on Joseph with his front hooves, his eyes wild from the whippings of the deranged rider.

  All three on the porch gazed in shocked horror at the crumbled body on the ground. Joseph was twisted in an unnatural angle, his eyes open in a glazed stare that would no longer see. Blood trickled from his mouth, ears and nose. The horse backed up and settled down, now satisfied that his rider would not rise again.

  Amy could not believe what had just happened. So there is justice after all. She sighed at the thought that all the brutality was over. Now some different problems have come to light, she suddenly realized. Was this nightmare never to be over? How was she to convince Sarah that she was a Duchess and not the dirty peasant she appeared to be? Thanks to Joseph she looked the part of a whore.

  “Blasted damn! Bloody hell! Now, he's gone and killed himself. And right here off my respectable porch, for God's sake.” Sarah gave a deep sigh of frustration and looked at Jeb. “I guess we have to bury him now. Jeb, bury him behind the rear rose garden. Do it now. Dead bodies distract business and stink.”

  Jeb nodded and went over to the body, hoisted it over his shoulder and proceeded toward the rear rose garden. Sarah looked over at Amy who was still starring at the spot where Joseph had been. Just a few drops of blood remained to lay claim to his existence.

  “Come with me, girl. You look like you could use a hot bath. Maybe a shot of brandy wouldn't hurt.”

  Sarah would call the magistrate later. He was a regular customer and would back her on this untidy little piece of nasty business. Sarah reached for Amy's arm and pulled her up to a standing position. “I've had a full day, girl. First, my favorite girl married, with my blessing. Then my ragamuffin dog tore up my favorite rose bush, then two of my girls got sick on cook's stew which I think was a little over the hill to start with…and now some blasted idiot gone and broke his worthless neck in my beautiful front yard!” Amy followed the woman into the house as she talked on and on. Blabbering, people call it.

  ****

  Arden and Bradley pulled their horses to a spot in front of a rundown hunter's shack. “They were here not so long ago. We should catch up to them soon.” Arden said as he looked into the shack briefly. Suddenly both men turned around hearing a twig crunch not so far from where they were standing.

  “Who goes there?” Bradley asked as he pulled his gun out and cocked it.

  Just then a man came around a tree pulling his horse behind him. “Put your gun away Bradley,” Gavin Metcaffe said saluting the two men. “I had to ride like hell to catch up with you.”

  “Ah, Uncle Gavin. With all the excitement I forgot that you and Aunt Bea were due here. But it is good you are to join us.” Bradley turned to Arden and said, “Gavin was a Bow Street runner and there is no better at tracking.” Arden nodded.

  “Luckily, he isn't making any effort to cover his trail.” Gavin said. “He is not competent, I gather.”

  “He is minus all his faculties which worries me, since he has my wife.” Arden grumbled. Arden adjusted his hat over his brow and turned his horse.

  “All the more reason we mustn't tarry,” Gavin added mounting his horse.

  The sky darkened and the threat of rain was upon them. Not the best condition for tracking. Arden began to allow his mind to wander to the first time he saw his wife. It was a rainy night, cold with a breeze that took the rain with it to create an angler shower of icy water

  Amy had been huddled in blankets, her body so frail that it was impossible to know a person was hidden among the warmth. He reached in the carriage and fumbled for a moment to find the body within and was shocked at how weak and light this bundle turned out to be. Cradling her against his chest, Arden had found himself mumbling idiotic assurances that seemed to come out of nowhere. Her white-blonde hair spoke of age or perhaps shock or was it natural? Either way, the hair was matted to her head in a tangle that seemed impossible to comb out. Her father had hair this color or perhaps a bit grayer, but it seemed a result of age and hard work, not so much the hair of youth.

  Arden could hardly focus on the road, with his distracting thoughts taking control, but then Gavin was in the lead tracking with precision and confidence that needed no other assistance. It was a comfort to be sure. Both men followed Gavin's lead as the sky grew darker, threatening a storm. A crack of thunder broke the silence and the three men all looked to the sky. Lightening now lit the sky making the road more visible for seconds at a time.

  Arden had never been a religious man, however he had his own set of beliefs that suited him and made him comfortable in his skin. But as his horse steadily moved ahead, he found himself praying.

  Please keep Amy safe. Please keep her unharmed. She is probably afraid. She has hardly lived as yet. She is young and inexperienced.

  Arden was scowling so badly his face hurt. But he couldn't help it. Damn it anyway! He was, after all, frustrated. He liked the way she bit her lip when she thought through something and the way the left side of her mouth would lift up first with the promise of a smile. Oh, how he hated not being in control. He wanted her back and just the way she was before she was taken. Perfect. Well, perfect to him.

  When he was a small boy he had witnessed a marriage in Brightmore village. It was most probably a farmer and his very young bride. He watched them speak their vows and look at each other with devotion and love. Yes, they had been in love and it was radiating from their souls. At that moment, which was ingrained in his boyhood memory, he had wanted that for himself. The thought left him breathless.

  The dream seemed lost to him in the years since that incident. He was busy with school and his career. Seeing some of the world's misery had made him lose hope and question his beliefs and dreams. There seemed to be so little compassion in his world and too much Despair. Life was unfair. He felt a moment of that misery now. His world had been dark with little light to make him happy or satisfied.

  Amy bought him happiness and revived that promise of his dream of so long ago. He discovered that he liked to please her…change her life for the better. Watch the moments of happiness light up her face. She had the face of hope for him. The promise of something better. He swore to himself at the unfairness of this situation. Amy was paying the price of his deeds.

  ****

  Sarah Graven was once a respectable woman. Or, perhaps passable as one. She had started out in the slums of London living on the streets, as many homeless urchins did. Of course she dressed and acted as a boy, because any female would have been abducted to work in the whore houses where they didn't last long. Instead, Sarah avoided that and had done well. She became a thief and survived --the lesser of the evils. Mostly she stole from drunks that were not respectable or from the rich that made the mistake of crossing her path. Sarah sometimes stole food and other times she would pick the pockets of drunks lying unconscious in alleys where no one could catch her. Sarah worked for no one but herself which was more profitable and safer.

  There were plenty of obstacles in her way. It was hard to avoid being taken over by one of the gangs that were organized thievery. Sarah worked quickly and efficiently in the alley, for the risk of being caught was great. If one job proved too difficult she would abandon it. She had established rules for herself and followed them without exception, since that was important to survival in this unforgiving place. It would not be worth it to be caught no matter the reward. It was a hanging offense after all.

  Sometimes she'd gain a gold pocket watch, but usually coin was her reward. Once in a while if she looked pitiful enough a rich bloke would toss her a coin for doing nothing but looking forlorn. Sarah saved her coins and hid them in a safe place, never carrying them on her person. Years of that life finally paid off and she started looking in the country for a sm
all property that she could settle in comfortably.

  One day a Duke wanted to get rid of a small parcel of land with a quaint cottage on it. More commonly these cottages were used to retire a loyal staff person of the elite. It was on the edge of his property and it was not entailed. He needed the funds desperately, which surprised Sarah. She thought Dukes had it all. Land, position, power, money and castles. But this was another lesson to be learned. The titled gents hadn't worked a day in their lives and didn't appreciate what they had. They gambled, whored, and sometimes cheated and then wondered how their wealth disappeared.

  In this case the Duke had done it all and eventually got himself killed in a duel for his cheating. But Sarah did all right. She negotiated until she got the cottage for the price she wanted. Any freshness or pretty traits had disappeared with the hard life she had led, but no matter. Each line in her face spoke of a lesson and a hard- earned lesson at that. She liked the sun and never wore a hat. Her weathered face was testament of that liking.

  At first Sarah just wanted to live in her cottage respectable-like and comfortable. But then she hooked up with a bloke who she thought would marry her. Bloody damn useless emotions. It turned out he just used her like a whore and after a time it just seemed like that was the natural business for her. He moved on and she moved on. In the end, Sarah took pride in being a tough woman. It was a matter of survival after all.

  Several runaways, an orphan or two and she opened “Sarah's House.” The girls were clean and she would keep one third of their take. If they weren't prone to the business, then they mended, tended the gardens, cooked or cleaned house. Everyone pulled their weight. Sarah took care of them, nursed them when they were sick and dried a few tears. They had good food and a decent life and Sarah would not allow any rough play on her girls. She was protective of her girls. If business was slow, the girls would all garden, growing vegetables and flowers. There were fruit trees, too, bordering the property.

  Sarah gazed down at the woman sprawled on her porch staring up at her. She was filthy like the pond scum that killed himself falling from his horse. But the ragamuffin's eyes held intelligence and her gut told her this woman was a victim. Sarah sighed. It seemed to be her lot in life to have another waif to protect. But she liked her life and she slept well at night.

  Sarah held out her hand toward Amy. “Come along. Let's get you cleaned up and see what's hiding under all that dirt.” Sarah turned to the open doorway where several girls bunched together watching the drama on the porch.

  “Jenny, get a bath started for our guest. Pearl, find something clean she can wear. Tes, go get some cheese, bread and ham for our guest…and some ale too. She looks half starved. The rest of you get back to your business.” The girls scampered off to do their chores. Sarah had not raised her voice, but the women did not question their orders.

  ****

  Amy sighed with relief and pleasure sinking into the hot water to wet her hair for shampooing. Jenny, a pretty young woman, with red hair and freckles, bent over the copper tub putting a heavy dose of lavender shampoo in Amy's hair. Her fingers massaged Amy's scalp as Amy relaxed against the side of the small tub.

  “That feels like heaven,” Amy mumbled under her breath.

  “Those bruises must hurt…and they will turn an ugly yellow. Did that nasty man do that to you?” Jenny asked as she started to use a pail of water to rinse Amy's long hair.

  “He treated his wife worse. But she is no longer plagued by him. You are very kind to help me.”

  “We all help each other here. We are like sisters since most of us have no families to claim us.” Jenny wiped her hands off on a nearby towel and watched Amy scrub herself from head to toe.

  “You speak well…like you have been educated,” Amy said rinsing soap from her legs.

  Jenny smiled. “Yes. I was fortunate to have been educated prior to my father gambling everything away. After selling everything off, my mother dying of consumption, I took to the streets…until Sarah saved me. I have taught some of the other girls here to read and write. Sarah encourages women to gain every skill possible to better themselves.” Jenny wrapped a towel around Amy's hair to dry it.

  Amy rubbed the towel on her head to dry her hair. Jenny helped her into a clean worn chemise and a simple day gown that came close to fitting Amy. Jenny grabbed a brush and comb and began the task of combing through the massive tangles with great patience and care. She began to hum a tune as she worked with serious focus on her job. Then Jenny paused as she noticed the warm flames of the fire.

  “Come sit by the fire while I comb the snarls from your hair.”

  Amy sat on a wooden bench in front of the fire and Jenny sat on the floor cross-legged. She began working on small amounts of knotted hair with continued tolerance for the tedious project working the wet tangles out slowly. “Your hair is such an unusual color. I have never seen this color before,” Jenny said with admiration.

  Several quick wraps on the door and Sarah stepped in. She glanced at the two women in front of the fire. “Ahhh, you clean up well, I see. Your hair…it is very striking.” Amy drew back, nervous about what to expect from this woman. “You needn't fear me child.” She held up a gown she had been carrying. It was wrinkled, but grand. “Jeb found this in the saddlebag. It is a rich gown…suited to a Duchess. Whose Duchess are you?”

  Amy watched Sarah's face for any sign of smugness or treachery, but saw none. The woman stood waiting for Amy to answer. Jenny had her mouth open in surprise and took a glance at the woman she had been so candid with.

  “I don't suppose you need a job?” Sarah asked with a hint of a smile. When Amy looked stunned, Sarah said, “I didn't think so. Do not worry your pretty head over it, my dear. I meant it when I said I do not hire unwilling women in my establishment. I will send for your Duke if you wish.”

  Chapter 19

  Sarah's House 1830

  Jeb had followed Dodd's erratic tracks until he caught up with Brightmore. Jeb carried a message for the Duke from Sarah and he was in a hurry. He was loyal to Sarah and did not want to leave his employer for long. There were too many things that needed his skills to be absent. One thing he discovered, Dodd was demented in a number of ways. The tracks were so random that Jeb had his suspicions confirmed that Dodd was not right in the head. That, coupled with his drinking created a dangerous man and one that was better off dead. His treatment of women was enough to warrant some physical beating that Jeb was sorry he couldn't provide. Bloody man killed himself and robbed even that pleasure from the Duke.

  Jeb could see a group of riders just ahead of him and stopped to await their approach. Finally he recognized the Duke and put up his hand in a sign of greeting. The Duke and his two companions pulled up the reins on their horses and stopped in front of Jeb.

  “Your Grace. Sarah has a message for you. One that I think you will appreciate. Your wife is safe at Sarah's House.”

  There was a great sigh of relief that seemed to come from all three men at the same time.

  “And Dodd? What of him?” Arden nearly snarled.

  Jeb chuckled. “He broke his own worthless damned neck mistreating your horse. I am certain the horse is pleased with her part in this. She bucked enough to cause the fool to lose control.”

  Arden did not know whether to be pleased or not. Certainly the bloody fool deserved to die, but he did not feel any relief. He felt cheated. He wanted to beat the man to a bloody pulp. Damnation. A man deserves some vengeance for what this fool did.

  Jeb watched the facial expressions change on Arden face. “I can understand your sentiments, Your Grace. Mine are the same. My job is to protect women from abuse from aggressive blokes. Dodd not only mistreated your mare, but your wife was the victim of his fists. I also wanted the opportunity to give him some of his own treatment. We were all cheated of the opportunity unless of course we beat his corpse.”

  At this latest information, pure rage took Arden to an entire new level of emotion. “He beat her?” He shoute
d. His face was nearly unrecognizable. The other two men looked at each other and a universal message passed between the two men. It was something no man wanted to experience regarding the woman they were entrusted to protect. Arden was a cool tempered man who seldom experience rage of this kind. It was not a pretty sight.

  Jeb nodded his head. “She is being cared for by Sarah and is relieved to be rescued. There must have been some satisfaction your wife had in seeing him break his own neck,” Jeb added. “I buried his bloody ass in the rose garden behind Sarah's House if you care to dig him up to give him a few kicks to the head. I assure you I granted him no respect as I dropped him in the hole. He has no marker to give his life credibility.”

  This bit of humor did not calm Arden as Jeb had hoped. The other two men snickered, however. Arden was red in the face and not any closer to sanity than seconds ago.

  “Arden, Amy will recover. She needs you to be strong for her,” Bradley offered. “What would you like us to do, my friend?”

  Arden turned to gaze at his friends in surprise. He was in a world of his own and had forgotten all but his own dreaded thoughts which were running away with him. After a moment of thought he sighed. “Go back to Brightmore Manor and let Millie and Eva know that Amy is alright. I will ride on with Jeb to gather Amy and bring her home.”

  The two men nodded their heads and turned their mounts toward the direction they had come. “You certain you don't want us to go with you?” Bradley asked, his face full of concern for his childhood friend.

  “I want to be alone with her for now…thanks to you both. Gavin…I appreciate the time you saved us tracking.”

  Gavin nodded. “No thanks required. I am glad it's over and happily I might add.” The two rode off together as Arden started to follow Jeb. Bradley turned back once as if to check for a change of plans. But no, Arden was already disappearing from sight as Bradley watched. Then he turned and nudged his horse forward to catch up with Gavin. He knew Arden was quite capable and needed no one to hold his hand. And there were things that needed a man to be on his own.