Regency Romance: Fallen Duchess (A Historical Victorian Murder Mystery Love Regency Romance)

by Tracey D Morgan

  “Anne, please. This is bigger than you. This is for the sake of your family. He’s a good man with a large fortune. He will make you happy.”

  “You can’t know that,” she wailed.

  “Anne, dry your tears and pack your things. You will head out with a wagon train in the morning,” she said, reaching out to gently touch her daughter’s shoulder.

  Anne spun around and ran to her room, her hands covering her face as she sobbed desperately. What was she going to do? What could she do?

  Chapter Three

  The only option was to run away. Ma would never come after her. Why would she? In her mind, Anne was just a spoiled child throwing a temper tantrum, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. This wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t. She didn’t deserve this.

  As Anne packed a small suitcase, she couldn’t help but wonder what she’d done to deserve this. She cried out to God, begging him to help her. What was his plan? She’d lost her father. Wasn’t that enough? She didn’t want to lose everything else, too. It seemed that no matter what she did she was going to have to leave Pikeville. At least this way she would be leaving on her own terms.

  Anne waited for nightfall, and when the moon hung high in the sky, she grabbed her bag and snuck out the window. The grass was wet, and the moisture creapt through her thin shoes, making her shiver just a little even though the night air was thick and warm with humidity.

  There was no light except from the moon. She silently slipped through the field, moving with a gracefulness that spoke to how often she’d spent time in these woods. Anne had always loved being surrounded by trees and animals. It gave her comfort to be among God’s creatures. They were silent but understanding and seemed to comfort in a way that no human could.

  The tree branches brushed her freckled cheek, but she paid no mind. She was used to the gentle stroke of leaves against her skin. She moved quickly, too afraid to stop for fear of getting caught. Anne didn’t rest until she reached the brook on the edge of the town. She kneeled down and scooped up the crystal clear water into her hand. The air was humid but still managed to dry out her throat. She took a small canteen that belonged to her father and filled it with the fresh water.

  Just as she began screwing on the cap, she heard a branch snap underneath someone’s foot. She slapped a hand over her mouth to prevent a gasp from slipping out before she ducked behind a tree,. She couldn’t be caught. She couldn’t go back.

  A lantern appeared in the darkness. She put a hand over her chest to try and calm herself as the person drew closer. Who could possibly be out this late at night? She was sure that everyone in town was asleep. The footsteps inched closer. The sound of snapping twigs and crunching leaves echoed loudly in her mind. She could feel her heart beat in her throat. The person with the lantern was standing beside Anne now, and in the dim light, she could see the shadowy outline of a familiar face. Before she could stop herself she whispered his name. “Levi?”

  The dark-haired man swung his lantern around so that it was at eye level with Anne, the flickering light revealing her pale, freckled face. “Anne?” he asked in return, just as surprised. “What on earth are you doing out here so late? You could be killed.”

  She stepped out from behind the tree. “I could ask the same of you,” she hissed, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “I saw someone run across my fields,” he muttered, glancing up at her. “I figured it was someone trying to steal one of my pigs.”

  Anne sighed and shook her head. “I just … I have to leave,” she said simply, knowing that he was going to press her for an answer anyway.

  “What? Why are you leaving? What is going on?”

  “Ma, she sold me to some man out West. I’m supposed to be his wife.”

  “You’re going to be a mail-order bride?” he whispered with a distinct sadness in his voice.

  “Is that what I am?” she asked with a laugh. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I can’t go out West. I can’t be some man’s trophy wife. I want to marry for love, Levi. I want to marry who God intends for me to marry.”

  A silence passed between them, and after a moment, Levi took a deep breath. “This isn’t the way, Anne. You can’t run away like this. What if you never show up and that man sends people after your family? You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to them.”

  She looked away, tears filling her eyes as she nodded slowly. “I know, I know, but I just can’t. I don’t think I’ll ever be happy again if I follow through with this, if I go out West,” she whispered.

  Levi put his hand under her chin and lifted her gaze. “He has a plan, Anne. God has a plan for you, but you can’t fight it.”

  “You were supposed to be my plan, Levi. How is this fair? I don’t want this,” she said. “I want you!”

  He pulled her into his arms and held her close. “I know, I know. I wanted you to be mine, Anne. I wanted it so badly, but we have to be brave, and we have to believe that there is a reason for all of this.”

  Anne let out a choked sob, allowing herself to fall apart in his arms. It felt so good to be able to be weak. Levi wasn’t going to let her go, and he wasn’t going to judge her for crying. She was finally able to let out all the sadness and grief that had been building up inside of her over the past few months.

  Levi held her for a long time, stroking her golden curls, kissing her face and whispering reassuring words into her ear. Finally, he pulled away and wiped the tears off her cheek. “Let’s get you home, Anne. The sun will be up soon, and you have a busy day ahead of you.”

  She nodded slowly and let Levi walk her home. As soon as they arrived at the door, he started to say goodbye, but she put a finger to his lips and leaned in, pressing a soft, sad kiss to his lips before pulling away and staring into his eyes. Levi looked so sad. His eyes were wet with unshed tears, and all she could think was how much she hated that this would be their last moment together.

  Chapter Four

  Morning came far too quickly. After Levi left, Anne never fell asleep. She lay awake, staring at the ceiling, tears soaking her pillow as she cried silently. She mourned the life she would never have and the things she was leaving behind, and all of the kisses she and Levi would never share.

  When the sun came up and the golden rays kissed her cheeks, Anne forced herself out of bed. She picked up the suitcase she’d abandoned by the window. It felt heavy in her hands and made her heart ache. Her bottom lip trembled as she wandered out of her bedroom and into the main room of the house where her younger sisters were sitting, sniffling and wiping the tears out of their eyes.

  Anne forced a weak smile. If she needed to, she would fake happiness to see them not cry. She walked across the living room and set down her suitcase and opened her arms to the two girls. “Come here, girls,” she said softly. Her sisters ran into her arms, and Anne held them close, kissing the tops of their heads. “It’s going to be all right. Ma is going to take care of you, and I’m going to go on an adventure.”

  “We don’t want you to go, Anne!” Beth sobbed.

  Tears came to Anne’s eyes again, and she hugged them tighter. “I don’t want to go either, but sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to,” she whispered. “It’s the way of the world, girls. I need you to be strong for me, OK. I’m going to be OK, and thanks to this man I’m going to see, you’ll be OK, too. This is a blessing.” She felt like she was lying through her teeth, but she didn’t want her little sisters to cry anymore.

  Anne’s mother stood near the door. She averted her gaze as the sisters shared a tearful goodbye. She felt guilty, and Anne knew it, though she couldn’t bring herself to feel bad for her mother. Anne walked past her, offering her a weak smile. “I forgive you,” she whispered as she walked past her Ma. She didn’t look up at Anne and simply opened the door, silently begging her to leave. The guilt was too much for her to bear.

  Anne walked out into the sunlight, her head held high despite the fear coursing through her
veins. She wasn’t ready to leave Pikeville behind, but she didn’t really have a choice. She stepped out onto the dusty road that led into town and followed it silently.

  Downtown Pikeville was small, and the town had only the necessities: a small post office, a general store and a tavern with an inn. Most of the purchases and trades were done among neighbors. They helped sustain one another in a way unique to small communities.

  The town was normally quiet, but today there was a small band of rough-looking men and a few tired women standing beside canvas-covered wagons bowing under the weight of their cargo. One of the men, who was in desperate need of a shave, walked over to Anne, his hands stuck in the pockets of his trousers. “You Ms. Anne?” he grumbled with an accent.

  “Yes, is this the wagon train I am supposed to travel with?”

  “Sure is, Missy,” he said, smacking his lips together and leaning back to spit out a dark, gooey.

  Anne’s stomach turned over, and she tried her best not to gag at the sight of the chewing tobacco. This was going to be a rough trip. The man helped her into one of the wagons, and she set her suitcase down among other luggage, hoping it didn’t get lost in the mess. A woman holding a chubby and dirty infant sat across from her, bouncing it gently as it suckled. “You the new girl?” the woman asked, her voice tired and rough.

  Anne nodded, running her fingers through her golden hair. “I suppose so,” she said.

  “This isn’t a cakewalk, you know?” the woman said sternly. “It’s hard work, and everyone is expected to pull their weight. Don’t go thinking that just because you have a pretty face you won’t be expected to work.”

  Anne was surprised by the woman’s hostility. She wanted to snap back, to show the woman the blisters on her hands from hours spent in the field. She wanted to bite back out of anger and fear, but she remained poised. This woman could think anything of Anne that she wanted, but Anne knew the truth.

  They fell into silence as Pikeville disappeared in the distance, a small cloud of dust erasing everything Anne had ever known. She turned her head to take one final look at her home, and her heart wrenched. She could have sworn that she saw Levi’s face in that dust cloud.

  Chapter Five

  Anne was adjusting to life on the trail, though it wasn’t easy. The men told her that it would be several months before they reached Wyoming. It seemed like such a long way, and as the days passed Anne grew even sadder and more depressed. She found it difficult to do even the most mundane things like get water or cook a meal.

  Everything was harder on the trail. They would ride for hours at a time, only stopping if they happened to come to a stream or lake. But then they’d go days without seeing any water, and panic would set in Anne’s mind. What if they died of thirst? What if someone stole their cattle. There was so much that could go wrong out and so much to fear.

  The people around her didn’t seem to be the type for prayer, and Anne often found herself doing her best to create her own little church in her mind. She kept track of the days so that when Sunday morning came around, she would retreat into her mind. She imagined the pillars of her church and the preachers booming voice. She wanted to remember every detail and hold it as close as possible. She needed it to stay sane. God was all she had now.

  The days were getting hotter, and it was harder than ever to be hopeful. The other women all but shunned her, clearly not happy with her youthfulness and pretty face. It didn’t really help that all the men in camp seemed to be somewhat enthralled by her beautiful hair and clear blue eyes. Their gazes were lecherous, and it took every ounce of self-control to not yell at them. She didn’t like that they looked at her as if she were a piece of meat.

  The wagon train stopped at a nearby river, and Anne smiled softly, pleased to see fresh water. Many days passed since they’d last seen water, and she knew their supplies were running low. She gathered up a clean dress and walked along the bank of the river, making sure that she was far enough away that no one might see her. Even in this brutish landscape she was committed to remaining modest. The last thing she wanted was any of the men seeing her in a state of undress.

  Once she was a mile or so down the river, she stripped down to her white underdress and waded into the water up to her knees, pulling her dress up just slightly to keep it dry. She tied it with a piece of string and began to wash herself, enjoying the feeling of the cool water against her skin. She was lost in her own little world and didn’t hear the soft giggling of the other women as they snatched up all of her clothes. They would have gotten away with their little prank, too, if one of the other women hadn’t hollered. “Hey, what do you witches think you’re doing?” the older woman grumbled.

  Anne gasped and spun around at the sound of Maggie’s voice. Maggie was the oldest woman in the caravan. She was a rough woman with tanned skin and gray hair that sat atop her head in a graceful braid. She wore men’s clothing and cursed just as much as her male counterparts. She was tough and unapologetic, but she was a fair woman and the only person in the wagon train that hadn’t hassled Anne.

  “Maggie, you scared us,” the youngest woman said..

  “Good. You deserve it for trying to strand this poor girl in the river with nothing but a slip!”

  “We were just playing a game,” one of the other woman said.

  “I’ve seen how you treat that girl,” Maggie said, motioning a crooked finger toward Anne. “This wasn’t no game to you,” she snapped, stealing the clothes back from the girl who held them.

  The women grumbled and walked away, casting glowering looks at Maggie and Anne. After she was sure they were gone, Anne stepped out of the water and walked over to Maggie. “Thank you,” she said, blushing and taking the clothes out of the old woman’s hands.

  “You need to watch your back, Anne. Those girls have it out for you,” she grumbled, pulling out a cigarette and placing it between her lips.

  “I know, I’m just not used to having to watch my back,” she said, tucking some hair behind her ear.

  “You need to get used to it,” Maggie said, her thick Midwestern accent coming out.

  Anne looked down and nodded. “Of course. Thank you for stopping them,” Anne said.

  “Now, now. Don’t hang your head like that,” she said, putting a hand on Anne’s shoulder. “I’m not a soft woman. You should know that by now.”

  “I’ve caught on to it,” Anne said.

  Maggie chuckled and nodded. “Good, good.” She stubbed her cigarette out. “I don’t have many friends in this wagon train, either. Maybe you and I can partner up and watch each other’s backs. How does that sound?”

  Hope fluttered in Anne’s chest for the first time in a long time. “That sounds perfect,” she said.

  “Good. Now, let’s head back. You don’t want to get left behind in this head. You would last a minute.”

  Anne couldn’t help but smile. It felt good to have someone looking out for her again. It was the first time since she’d left Pikeville that she felt hopeful.

  Chapter Six

  The nights were beginning to get cold. Winter was a few months away, but fall was just around the corner. Anne didn’t mind the cold so much. It was nice to be free of the stifling heat.

  They made their way into Missouri and found themselves in hostile territory. They hadn’t come across any natives or outlaws yet, and everyone kept their fingers crossed that it stayed that way.

  When night fell, the wagon train was forced to stop. Traveling in the darkness was treacherous, and they avoided it whenever possible. Everyone started to turn in for the night, but Anne found it nearly impossible to sleep. She sat at the edge of the campfire, watching the last of the coals burn out. Her bare feet were as close as she dared, searching for some warmth.

  The only other person still up was a man who seemed just as nervous and frightened as Anne. He was younger than she was by a few years, and she felt bad for the poor kid. He’d hardly started his life, and he was already being thrown into this vast
wilderness.

  Anne broke away from the circle of wagons. She knew it probably wasn’t the safest thing to do, but she needed to get away for a moment and breathe. The cool night air kissed her skin as she walked off into the darkness but paused when she heard a strange sound.

  The wailing was a good 10 yards from the wagon train, but it was distinct and terrified. It sounded like a sick or injured animal. Anne’s heart was too big for her own good, and she knew she couldn’t leave some poor creature out in the woods to die. She made her way toward the sound. Her eyes adjusted to the dark as crossed the flat plains, following a path illuminated by the moonlight. As she came upon the creature making the sound her heart stopped.

  Scattered around the flat plains was a small group of Native Americans. Their dark skin was stained with blood, and it became clear that some type of battle or massacre took place here. A mass wrapped in blankets squirmed in one of the women’s arms, and Anne ran forward and grabbed the sobbing child from its mother’s cold grip. She pulled the child to her chest, not bothering to unwrap it from its blankets just yet. Whatever happened here happened not too long ago, and it was the last place that Anne wanted to be.

  She turned from the carnage and quickly walked back toward the wagon train. She didn’t want to wake any of the others and cause a stir. She wasn’t sure how they would react to the baby, either, given its origins. Anne stayed just outside of the circle of wagons while she looked down at the whimpering child in her arms. She gently uncovered its face to reveal a beautiful with wide, brown eyes. Its lips were trembling, and the little girl let out soft cry.

  Anne’s heart swelled, and she brought the child to her chest, supporting the back of its head and bouncing it gently. “Shh” she whispered. “You’re safe now, child. I have you.”

  It was impossible to tell exactly how old the child was, but Anne guessed about six months old. The child hiccupped and reached her tiny fingers into Anne’s hair. Anne smiled and stroked the girl’s reddened cheeks. The baby seemed to calm, and she smiled.