Chapter 23: A Family Name
James knew now more than ever that he needed a plan. If Lucy was in Belmoran, then first he needed the time to get away from the Magistrate's blackmail long enough to go find her. He needed an excuse to leave Lanfore, something meaningful that even the Magistrate couldn't deny.
But what?
He could say he was going on business to Portsmouth, surely the Magistrate wouldn't go out of his way to verify that. But, then again, James had to remember the sort of lunatic Magistrate Sherman Donaldson was. He would have to find a way to be honest without giving too much away. Usually he was good with that sort of thing, but now he was not so sure.
"The way you're blathering on makes it sounds like you're on the run fro the law," Sebastian Lucas chuckled when James relayed these sentiments to him. "Lying to the Magistrate. James Boatwright, the nerve!"
"Shut up," James growled. "I just need a lie to get out of here and the Magistrate needs to know just enough but not too much as to where I am going."
"Why does he need to be aware at all?"
"Because he..." James sighed, and then shook his head. "He may or may not have told his daughter that I am going to propose marriage to her."
Sebastian clapped his hands together slowly and dramatically. "Mazel tov, my friend! I should feel insulted that you never told me of it. I can forgive you if you promise there will be plenty of pretty girls during the ceremony."
"I am not actually going to propose to her, fool!" James snapped. "The Magistrate told her I would and, before you ask me, it's because he's a blathering madman," he was shocked at just how furious he sounded, like he was ready to hunt that old man down and strangle him with his bare hands. "I just need to figure out how to get out of here long enough without that rumor festering out of control."
Sebastian raised a hand. "So, to clarify, you have no intentions of proposing to the Magistrate's daughter?"
"None, if I can help it."
"What's wrong with her?" Sebastian asked. "Gap teeth? Foul breath? Horrid laugh? I do hate women that cackle."
"None of those things, she's a perfectly fine young lady."
"But you love another," Sebastian sighed dramatically. "I've walked right into a bloody romance novel, I have."
"I called you here for your advice, not your dramatics."
"And I will give it to you," Sebastian replied, standing. "I have a rather unnaturally large intellect, after all. You'd be a fool not to come to me for advice. Give me time, perhaps a day or so, to mull it over and I'll let you know what I have thought up."
James was reluctant about having to wait for a plan, but he knew he had no choice. He needed a way out of here and, if Sebastian could help him, then he had to take whatever the man could give on his terms. "I can offer you that."
"Just as well," Sebastian muttered, turning to leave James's study. "It's not as if I have anything better to do in this godforsaken town."
After Sebastian took his leave, James buried his head in his hands and cursed. The fact that he was going through this much for Lucy's sake made him hope that she would be grateful, perhaps grateful enough to see sense, accept his proposal, and come home with him.
But even so, the fact of the matter remained that he had to get to her before she decided that Ross was a better option.Getting passage to Belmoran from Portsmouth would not be an issue. James's problems started at home.
A knock sounded from the door and he looked up to see his mother standing there, the look of disapproval painted on her face.
"Your father is dying," she whispered, slowly walking in, "and you are going to miss his last moments on this earth to chase the skirts of a woman who left you here without a second thought?"
James sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry, mother, but I have to go see her. I need to... Apologize."
"So send her a note!" His mother slapped a hand down on his desk. "Write to her, like a normal man! Do not chase her like a besotted fool. You are better than that, James! Your father and I raised you better than that!"
"A normal man would go after the woman he loves to apologize!" James shouted, standing to his feet. "That is what I am going to do, and you cannot stop me."
She scoffed and shook her head. "Where did I go wrong with you? Ever since Lucy returned, you've been acting as if the person you were before her arrival never existed. The James that I raised would not abandon family for a woman."
"Lucy is going to be my family," James replied. "I am going to propose to her, we are going to marry, and she will be family. I will be back here before father passes, everyone wins!"
"No," his mother shook his head, "because if you go after Lucy, and come back with her as your wife, I will never speak to you again, I will never look at you again, and I will never acknowledge you as my son. I doesn't matter if you return before your father dies. If you do this, you are dead to me."
With that, she turned and stormed out, leaving James standing there, stricken and rendered entirely speechless.
XXX
Belmoran Island
Lucy found herself in the same position again, dressing for dinner and making herself presentable. It was the same, dry routine she had observed the day before. The cycle here was forming anew, something that happened every time someone found themselves in a new situation. In Lanfore, when she was a child, she had a cycle. Then in London, when she was older, she had another. Here, now, in Belmoran, she was starting a new one, and that terrified her slightly. What if she performed the same routine over and over again day after day here, in this strange place, where she seemed to have more enemies than friends, until it became so terrifyingly familiar that she would never truly leave?
All these thoughts from the simplest of gestures. Lucy wondered if that was what her life had come to. So much anxiety, so much noise... So many threats and complications. She didn't know if she was capable of telling anyone the truth anymore, especially now that it had become a bargaining chip. Mrs. Beauchamp had found the one thing Lucy knew deep in her heart that she was willing to sacrifice the truth for: Ross.
Once again, Lucy wondered what it meant. What did it mean that she was on the cusp of coming forward with the truth just to see Ross again? Did it mean that her feelings for him exceeded further than what she had suspected, or felt before?
A dear friend, that was hilarious. Lucy knew she had felt the same for James, a man she had known since childhood. But her character wouldn't allow her to fall in love with the familiar, the safe. James was who he was, and he loved her, but was that her problem? He certainly made it so, and that was hardly her fault. Ross, on the other hand, made it just as clear how he felt, that he viewed her as more than a friend, but the difference went beyond the lack of familiarity. He made it clear as well that it was not her problem how he felt, unless she herself felt the same. For that, Lucy knew she couldn't stand to be denied his presence by omitting something as trivial as the truth from their friendship.
But could she admit the truth at all? Would Mrs. Beauchamp let her see Ross ever again if she told her the truth of her lineage, of her mother's adultery, of everything that had been hidden from her all her life?
Lucy shook her head and breathed slowly. All these thoughts were sure to drive her mad. She had to take this slowly, one day at a time... If she even had such time. At the moment, all that mattered was getting through this day. Tomorrow, she would start to figure out how to approach her latest problem. Mrs. Beauchamp hardly seemed an antagonist, and Lucy could not fault her for wanting to protect her son, especially after what Leila told her about what happened with his former love, Charlotte. Such an emotional strife weighing down on her son must have made Mrs. Beauchamp wary of any woman in his life, and Lucy had to be aware of that. Mrs. Beauchamp was just being a mother, and since Lucy didn't know what that felt like, all she could do was learn and not judge.
Lucy breathed a few more times, and then turned to walk out the door of her room. The moment she stepped out, she saw Eliza doing so as well from her room.
"Ready?" Eliza offered her an arm. Smiling, Lucy took it, and both women walked the rest of the way down the hall and started down the stairs.
"So tell me more of this new stranger you invited," Lucy said as Eliza steered her towards the sitting room.
"No need," the woman giggled as the footmen opened the door and announced them, "you're about to find out."
XXX
John and Eliza's brother, Samuel Worthington, sat quietly for a moment, only once in a while sharing moments of polite yet brief conversation. Samuel mostly spoke about his family business, and John regaled him with talk of his trade, and then they shared similarities and interests in kind. Samuel seemed an accommodating gentleman, but his hard face and seemingly perpetual frown of distaste made him seem less so. John had encountered men of similar dispositions back home in Charlestown but he never had to be stuck in a room with them for long minutes at at time.
So, when the door opened and Eliza walked in with their house guest, it was a rather euphoric feeling of relief.
"Ah, there they are!" Samuel stood, seemingly relieved as well, which John did not mind at all. "You certainly took your own time."
"We're women, Sam," Eliza said, waving a blithe hand. "We will take as much time as we please," she looked to John with that dazzling smile. "John, it is good to see you again. Did the carriage find you well?"
"It did, thank you," he said, quickly bowing. He wasn't as astute with the social norms of high society, but his mother had schooled him with as much as she had learned while working as a maid for the elite Boatwright family in Lanfore. Still, many of the finer details eluded him. He knew he had to bow, but was it required for him to kiss her hand as well?
Eliza answered that question by offering her hand. John managed to perform that simple gesture to near perfection, but he didn't realize until after he had backed away that he was shaking.
"A gentleman, of course," Eliza was smiling. "I did not know that they bred such a polite sort in America."
He frowned. "How did you know?"
"Gregory Rutherford's ship came from Charlestown, did it not? And your accent gave it away."
Well now I feel rather foolish. Wouldn't be the first time since arriving here.
Eliza grinned at what have been a rather embarrassed expression on his face and gestured to the woman next to her. "May I introduce our houseguest?" She ushered her friend forward and John noticed that the woman was quite beautiful herself, but in a willowy and graceful sort of way, with long dark hair, lovely eyes, and a kind smile. Still, there was something in her eyes that he caught onto almost immediately. It was a hollowness that struck him, because he had seen such an expression many times in his own eyes.
"John, this is Lucy," Eliza said. "Lucy, this is the stranger I told you about, John."
"Pleased to meet you," Lucy held out her hand and, when John leaned down to kiss it, she spoke up again. "What is your family name? It cannot possibly be just 'John'."
"It's not," he said, straightening up again. "It's Quincy. John Brandon Quincy."
Lucy look startled, and held a confused smile on her face. "That's odd."
"It is," Eliza said, frowning as well. "Very odd."
"Why?" John asked, looking between the both of them, and then to Samuel, who stood quietly but was also frowning. "Why is it odd?"
"It's just..." Lucy chuckled, still baffled. "Quincy is my family name as well. Lucy Quincy."
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