Chapter 9: Enemies in Your Arms
Lucy took a few moments to step aside from all the dancing and glamour once again. Captain Ross had been called away by a gathering of men interested in business investments—something he assured Lucy that he himself had no interest in—leaving her to own devices for a time.
Lucy sipped some water and watched Beatrice entertain several partners, wondering if any of them was the young man that seemed besotted with her. She doubted it; Beatrice wasn't the sort of girl to spend her night with one man only unless that man had something in particular to offer. Even so, it was entertaining to watch her dance, she was very graceful.
"Are you enjoying yourself?"
Lucy turned and saw James standing there, watching her intently. "Yes. It's a lovely ball, James."
"I am glad you like it," he said, his face almost like a stone. "I find it most unfortunate that we have not yet shared a dance."
Lucy smiled. "The night is not yet over, we still can. I would love to."
"Alas, that will not be possible," he replied. "I have to go see to my father. My mother is with him right now, and I just received word that he is asking for me."
Lucy frowned. "He's awake?" When he nodded, she sucked in a breath. "Do you want me to go with you to see him?"
He looked down at her, his expression cold enough to send shivers down her spine. "Will Ross not miss you?"
"Ross?"
"Your... Partner for the night."
Lucy shook her head. "No, he will not. And it does not matter if he does, I would like to see your father, and your mother. I would like to be there for you, James."
"As my friend, I presume?"
Lucy shot him a testing look. "Do you not want me to come?"
James shook his head immediately. "No, I want you to. I am sorry. I am just..." He paused, then cleared his throat. "Follow me."
"Wait," Lucy turned back towards the throng of couples dancing and frolicking. "What about Elizabeth?"
"What about her?" James asked. "The Donaldsons have retired for the night. Come."
Wonder if they left on good terms.
As Lucy followed James towards the foyer, she turned back one more time and saw Ross watching her go. She smiled at him but quickly turned away just in time for the footman to open the doors for her and James to exit the ballroom. Then, he led her up the stairs, a path she knew well, but still it felt oddly strange to her. Dawn-Bridge had not changed much, but she had, and she was seeing it through her grown perspective.
That, and her friendship with the owner was slowly crumbling and she felt far too helpless to save it.
"I hope that you can come to me if ever you need a friend," Lucy said to James's back in a vain attempt to patch whatever wounds were festering between them. "I still love you, James. I only wish happiness for you."
James paused, tensed, then turned to look at her. "Why do you say such things?"
Lucy winced at his sudden angered expression. "What things?"
"You speak to me as though being your friend is the only thing I can ever be," he gritted out, eyes flaring. "Why do you continue to insult me in such a way?"
"How is that an insult?" Lucy asked. "It's not my intention to hurt you, James! Far from it!"
"Then why does everything you say do just that?" He clenched his fists. "I make no bones about how I feel about you, Lucy, I never have. I don't frolic and pretend and deny like you do."
"How do I do any of that?" Lucy snapped, irritated. "Where is this coming from?"
"Ever since you returned, you've done nothing but tear my heart out and stomp on it!"
"I returned only yesterday, James, and I've certainly had neither the time nor the temperance to do such a thing!"
"You managed to make your damage in a day," he snarled.
"By telling you that I wasn't willing to marry?" Lucy shook her head. "You say you know me so that should hardly shock you!"
"Beyond that, did you think I particularly enjoyed seeing you in the willing arms of Captain Beauchamp?" James growled. "Do you think I found it amusing, the way he clearly showed his affections for you?The way you flaunted yours?"
"I flaunted nothing!" Lucy protested, finally losing her own temper at the man's insolence. "And I certainly won't apologize for doing what every woman without a partner generally does at a ball, James. I won't apologize for dancing with someone! I do not ask you to do such for dancing with Elizabeth. Why do the rules and laws of propriety have to be used against me when I did not break any in the first place?"
Silence fell between them and Lucy was ready to turn and leave, despite wanting to see his parents. She couldn't face them now. She didn't know what more there was to say.
It's all falling apart.
Finally, after too many beats of agonizing silence, James spoke.
"Words cannot describe how much I yearned for you all these years, Lucy."
"James—"
"No, let me finish," he held up a hand. "Without you here, my life was empty. Nothing felt or seemed right. There were women for me, many. Good women, from respectable families, all possible wives. Smart matches, the lot of them, but none of them made sense to me. Only you did. You, and no one else," he took in a deep breath and let it out, as though trying to still whatever deep emotion he was feeling. "You returned only yesterday, and yet I feel as though you have been here for a lifetime. You belong in Lanfore, Lucy, with me. This," he gestured between the two of them, "what I feel when I see you back here, in my home, it only serves to prove that. Do not leave Lanfore again, Lucy. Stay here, with me, where you belong!"
"James," she tried again, "please, James, I—"
"I've known you all my life!" He shouted, causing her to jumped. "Since we were children, Lucy! We grew up together, we played together, and we loved! Don't take the love that we had and still have away from me and call it mere friendship. You know as well as I that there is too much history for us to be just friends. There is too much love. Let's share in that love," he reached forward suddenly and took her hands in his. "You and I, we can be magic together."
Lucy was trembling from head to foot and she felt her insides erupting in a storm, but not a good one. She wanted to vomit, more than anything. She wanted to run. She didn't want to be here anymore, she felt as though her life was falling apart.
Was this his proposal? Surely not!
"I..." She croaked and her voice failed her, but she tried again. "James, I..."
"Why do you hesitate?" He snapped, voice still loud with anger. "I am offering you a happy life with me! I am rich, of means, and I can make you happy, I know I can! Please, Lucy, do not deny me."
Lucy tried to wrest her hands from his to no avail. "James, you're hurting me."
"Please, Lucy," he shook her rather violently, squeezing her hands so tightly that she could feel her fingers going cold. "Don't take this away from me!"
"James, let me go!" Lucy finally managed to free her hands, and she threw herself back, keeping a fair distance between the two of them. She was breathing heavily now, tears in her eyes.
James looked horrified at his actions, his eyes suddenly wide and ready to pop out of his skull. "Lucy..."
"Give your parents my best," she whispered, still backing away. "Tell them... Tell them that..."
She couldn't finish. She was too confounded with the whole situation and her heart was ready to burst out of her chest. She didn't even realize her own actions when she turned and ran away from James, racing at top speed down the stairs. She didn't remember hearing him call her back and wasn't entirely sure if he had pursued her. All she knew was that she wanted to get out of there, out of Dawn-Bridge, out of the one place she had always found comfort and safety.
She knew now more than ever that she never wanted to return.
Did that just happen? Dear God, am I dreaming? Is this a nightmare? It must be!
Her friendship with James couldn't be ruined! She wanted to turn back the hands of time. She wished she had never returned home, she wished she had taken her sister's advice and remained in London. What purpose had been served, returning to Lanfore? Only pain and hurt had followed, and she had not even been home that long for all that to happen! It was not right!
God, her world was falling apart!
Lucy made straight for the doors and didn't even bother to stop and take her shawl. All other thoughts didn't matter, no other concerns were a priority. She didn't think about finding Beatrice, or the letter Bertha Denning had talked about, or the fact that her home would be lost to her uncle in the coming weeks.
Nothing mattered.
She just wanted to get the Hell out of Lanfore.
Surely nothing could compare to this travesty!
She knew that leaving was not an option, but she so wished it was.
When Lucy came to her senses, she realized that she was outside now, crouched to her knees behind one of the large pillars. She had her arms wrapped around her knees and she was breathing hard, tears falling down her cheeks and splashing on the ground. Her breath came out in short, painful huffs, as each one was a trial to get out. She felt herself wheezing as she struggled to breathe, and her heart was racing so much still.
She thought she imagined it, but the voice of Captain Ross Beauchamp cut through the chaos and she felt a pair of strong, calloused hands take her shoulders and help her up. She felt her body being gently moved away to where she couldn't be seen, and then she felt the warmth of a safe embrace.
She didn't bother to stop it. She didn't want to stop it.
"Breathe slowly," he whispered in her ear, slowly rubbing her back. "Slowly, now... That's it. Calm yourself."
He was trying to soothe her, that was all. That's what she needed to do: calm down. Clear her mind. School her thoughts from the mess.
Ross held her away from him and he bent forward to look at her face, handing her a handkerchief. "I won't ask what happened," he said, his voice sharp but gentle. "And you don't have to tell me."
Lucy appreciated that and slowed her breath even more as she dabbed the tears away. "I can't go home just yet, not without my friend. But I can't go back inside right now."
"That's alright," he assured her. "I will stay out here with you, until you're ready," then he grinned. "Misery loves company, after all."
She didn't know how she managed it but she forced out a smile. "Thank you."
Calm down. That's all I have to do. Remain calm.
A simple thing, really, but ever so hard to do, as always.
XXX
Bertha Denning managed to sneak out of the Donaldson home later that night, after her chores were done with and she had supped with the other servants. While they were lounging about and taking their smoking breaks she snuck out of the back doors under the ruse that she needed some time alone. That was not odd for her; she often did need time to herself, away from everyone else.
As Bertha made her way to the Quincy home, which sat just across the market from the Donaldson's, she kept a keen eye out for anyone watching or following her. From what she knew, there was a lavish ball at Dawn-Bridge; so all eyes were there at the moment. No one would pay attention to a lowly servant making her way through town at night. Still, she remained as careful as she could.
By the grace of God, her journey went without incident. Though she didn't know the Quincy home as well, she managed to find her way down to the servant's door, which was located down the garden path. She knocked on it a few times, then stood back and waited patiently until a footman answered.
"Hello," she smiled and curtsied. "Bertha Denning, from Magistrate Donaldson's home."
"Hello, then," The footman eyed her oddly. "What are you doing about so late in the hour?"
"I received an urgent message for Lucy Quincy," she replied, reaching into her blouse to pull the note out.
"Why would a note for Ms. Quincy go to the Donaldson estate?" The footman asked.
"How am I to know? I'm just the messenger!" She snapped. "I was instructed to bring the note here by Magistrate Donaldson. Give it to Ms. Quincy the moment she returns home from the ball. It's important!"
The footman sighed. "Very well, then."
"I am serious," Bertha stressed. "Do I need come in and put it in her room myself?"
"No," he took the note from her. "Really, I'll do it."
"See that you do, or you may just anger the Magistrate."
The footman's eyes went wide. "I don't want to do that!"
"So make sure she gets the note, and tell her that her father gave it to her if she asks."
"Her father?"
"Yes, her father."
"But he's dead."
"Thank you most kindly for stating the obvious."
The footman looked confused. "So I give her the note... And tell her that her dead father gave it to her?"
"Yes," Bertha snarled. "Just give it to her!"
With that, she turned and walked away. She heard the footman mumble something and shut the door, but she didn't care what it was. She had done her part. In a manner of mere hours, Lucy Quincy's life would really fall apart.
And Bertha would have the justice she had sought after all these years.
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Author's note: Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! Man, James is really botching this proposal thing, isn't he? Poor kid...
What pairings do you guys have in mind for our characters? Let us know! :)
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