Chapter 41: The Quincys
Breakfast with her uncle went about as smoothly as Lydia had suspected. For one thing, after reading every single letter in the stack, she now had valuable insight into the man her uncle really was. All of his secrets were exposed, at least to her, and now she could easily assume that it would not be long until Robert Quincy was destroyed and eradicated from their lives.
Oh, the freedom of not having to answer to the man, not having to worry about what sick agenda he was attempting with them! She could marry Fredrick, Lucy would be free, the Quincy family could move on. It would feel amazing when she could finally expose her uncle as the fraud he was, but she had to be careful as there were other characters involved. She had to expose her uncle, but to the right people. Confronting him head on would not end well if she did not have allies and, at the moment, no one but her uncle knew she was in Lanfore.
"It's almost the anniversary of your father's death," Robert said. "What is it... A month?"
"A month, one week, and two days from now," Lydia replied.
"I see," Robert muttered. "Well then I suppose you will be staying here for that."
"It is likely."
"Then we should visit his grave together," Robert said, sitting back in his seat. "We can pay our respects."
You never respected my father when he was alive, how am I supposed to believe you will respect him in death?
"That would be lovely, uncle, thank you," Lydia forced out a smile. "Perhaps Lucy can return for it as well, it would be nice for all of us to be together."
Robert chuckled. "No, I don't believe that that will be possible, my dear. Lucy's quite otherwise occupied, what with planning her wedding with Fredrick." He frowned. "How is that going, is the ceremony soon?"
Lydia raised an eyebrow. "How am I to know, uncle? I am here with you."
"You were there when the letter was sent to Fredrick to fast track the wedding plans were you not?" Robert asked. "Come now, Lydia, you and Lucy are quite close. If anyone can keep me informed about the wedding plans it is you." He smirked.
You bastard.
Lydia did not even have a chance to respond when the footman entered the dining room.
"Sir, pardon me, but there is a deputy at the door. He is asking for you."
Robert frowned. "A deputy?"
"Yes, sir."
"Why, I am sure it is a mistake," he shot Lydia a wary look, but she was just as appalled as he was. "Send him away."
"But sir, he asked for you specifically, he said it is regarding your niece."
"How could it be, I am right here." Lydia said.
Robert stood. "Wait right here, Lydia, I will sort this out."
"All due respect, uncle," Lydia stood as well, "I think I will go with you."
"I must insist that you listen to me, young lady," Robert's eyes narrowed. "Speaking with deputies is too much for a woman to handle."
Lydia rolled her eyes. "Uncle, do you have something to hide?" When he paused, she smiled. "Then I do not see the issue. I am sure my female sensitivities will be fine. Shall we?"
She had to admit, knowing what she knew about her uncle now, and him not knowing all that she knew, made it a lot more fun to toy with him and get into his head. She had to be careful, of course, lest he start to suspect her.
The deputy was a young man with shocking red hair and tired eyes. Lydia had never met him before but already she pitied him.
"Greetings," Robert reached out and shook his hand, "I am Robert Quincy, man of the house. You asked for me?"
Of course, he didn't bother introducing Lydia. She glared at him.
"I did, sir, my name is Deputy Kit Fischer," he said. "Are you the guardian of Lucy Quincy?"
Lydia felt her heart skip a beat. "What has happened to my sister?" She demanded.
"Please, Lydia," Robert held up a hand, which she almost slapped away. "I am," he said to the deputy. "Why do you ask?"
"She has been arrested for conspiracy to murder James Boatwright, alongside," Deputy Fischer handed him a folded piece of paper. "It is all written here and signed by Magistrate Donaldson, you may take your questions directly to him."
With that, he bowed his head and left, leaving the two Quincys standing there, utterly aghast.
XXX
"Captain Beauchamp informed me that you are the witness to his crime."
"I am," Phillip replied.
"As you know," Harold Stone said, leaning forward, "I am James Boatwright's representative, and a good friend to the Boatwright family. All I want is the truth so we can put this matter to rest and Mrs. Boatwright can properly mourn the loss of her son and husband."
"I understand."
"However, it has been made clear to me by Captain Beauchamp that there are certain... Details regarding the night Mr. Boatwright was killed. Details regarding specific actions he took against Ms. Lucy Quincy that led to his being shot."
Phillip nodded. "Indeed."
Stone sighed. "Listen, Mr. Doyle, I am not an insensitive man. But one thing that I must not do is slander the name of Boatwright unnecessarily. James's father was a good friend of mine you see."
Phillip frowned. "But that's the truth of what happened."
"And that is what Mr. Beauchamp says, but did you personally see it happen?"
"Of course I did!"
"No, you misunderstand," Stone urged. "Allow me to rephrase: did you personally see with your own two eyes James Boatwright attempting to rape Lucy Quincy before he was shot by Captain Ross Beauchamp?"
Phillip, stunned to silence, and suddenly feeling pangs of regret, shook his head. That was the honest truth; he had not seen James attempt to rape Lucy, only heard her screams, but that was indicator enough. This man was trying to urge Phillip into sweeping it under the rug and build another sort of case entirely.
"I did not have to be there to know what was happening," Phillip said. "And when I arrived, I found James's body on top of Lucy, it was a very compromising position. It does not take a genius to add those pieces together."
"All speculation, I am afraid to say," Stone replied blithely. "Women claim to be violated in order to shame great men all the time. It is hardly a new story, and it is a cover up at best."
"You are mad!" Phillip exclaimed. "Cover up for what?!"
"Why, a greater crime of course!" Stone replied. "Mr. Doyle, you strike me as a reasonable man, a man of thought. Word about Lanfore was that Mr. Boatwright was actively courting Ms. Quincy upon her arrival and up to the time she left with Captain Beauchamp. The Magistrate has revealed the truth of Ms. Quincy's paternity, of course, but Mr. Boatwright perhaps did not know of it or, if he did, his love for Ms. Quincy was so great that he did not care. One could speculate that Captain Beauchamp and Lucy conspired to have Mr. Boatwright eliminated, as he proved a threat to their great romance, so Ms. Quincy enticed Mr. Boatwright to come to Belmoran, which he did. She seduced him, luring him to a backwater dockyard where there would be no proper witnesses, and Captain Beauchamp shot him." Stone looked proud of himself. "It all comes together nicely, and the Boatwright name remains intact. And with Ms. Quincy's mother being a known harlot, it will not be a difficult story to sell."
Phillip could not believe what he was hearing. Preserving the Boatwright name was more important than justice for Lucy? Where was the preservation of her honor? Her safety? What did it matter what taint was on James's name if real and true justice was served?
"That is vile," he bit out. "You are vile."
Stone looked surprised at Phillip's reaction. "Do not think of me in such a negative tone? Why, my fellow, Mr. Jacob Ashe, your friend's representative, does not have Ms. Quincy's best interests at heart himself, and why would he? Neither of us wishes to defend an illegitimate girl when there are two great men on either of our stands whose families we can preserve. Mr. Ashe has Captain Beauchamp's good name to worry about and I have Mr. Boatwright's. It is the one thing we agree with the Magistrate: Lucy Quincy is the real guilty one. She enticed these two men and one of them is now dead. You cannot deny that the connections are there to be made."
"It's all speculation!" Phillip shouted. "And a vile and crude one at that. An innocent woman is being held to judgment for a crime she did not commit. She never once had any intent to seduce James Boatwright, not a one! She and Captain Beauchamp left Belmoran separately, I ensured that. They spent a year apart. If they murdered James to be together, then why go through the trouble?" He took in a deep breath. "I orchestrated their departure. I assisted in the cover up. If you want to arrest anyone, arrest me! Leave Lucy out of this, she is the only innocent one."
"Arrest you?!" Stone looked aghast. "Good god, man, did you not hear a word that I said? To take apart the name of yet another great family? No, no, that would be most unsophisticated. Why, the Doyles are very well known and respected even in Hertfordshire."
Phillip threw up his hands, frustrated. "This is not about the preservation of anyone's names this is about a woman's life! Have you no decency? Her father was the Magistrate before Donaldson. Would he have stood for this sort of injustice?" When Stone didn't reply, Phillip continued. "Captain Beauchamp confessed. He provided me as a witness. I myself have confessed to covering up the crime and, in all of these confessions, never once was it implied that Lucy had any hand in Mr. Boatwright's death. There is no evidence to that fact, only assumptions and speculation. Furthermore, I am sure Captain Beauchamp made you swear to petition to have her name cleared in exchange for his confession, so if you truly want to operate on the side of justice, I advise that you do just that."
Harold Stone sighed and took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking. "The fact of the matter is that no one is going to see anyone other than Lucy convicted this no matter what either of us believe. The Magistrate has already convinced the town of her guilt."
"And how convinced are you that the Magistrate is all together righteous himself?" Phillip pressed. "Do you really and truly know what that man has done in order to see his ends met?"
Harold Stone frowned. "Whatever do you mean?"
"I have it on good authority that he was using Lucy's paternity to threaten James Boatwright into doing his bidding. And if my word is not good enough for you, here," Phillip produced the list, given to him by Sebastian, and handed it Harold Stone. "The names of his enemies here in Lanfore. He has them listed, including their associates, as well as Bertha Denning, the sister of the man claimed to be Lucy's real father, and even the Boatwrights. If you really and truly want to do right by the family you befriended, you are pointing your pistol at the wrong enemy, and you have the wrong people behind bars."
Harold Stone took the list, and Phillip sat back, his heart about ready to burst out of his chest.
XXX
It seemed almost too easy. She had come to him, the Magistrate, as though serving herself to her own slaughter, and told him the truth of what happened that night. But all signs pointed to a conspiracy, and it all served to prove him right: Lucy Quincy had killed James Boatwright.
Perhaps she had not held the pistol, but a lover's quarrel? A conspiracy to eliminate the one standing in the way of their love? She had orchestrated the entire thing. The Magistrate had the entire town convinced, that was for sure. There was no one left capable of standing up to him now. He had achieved what he thought was only a dream when he first started.
He had finally destroyed the Quincy name for good.
XXX
John could feel the tension radiating from his mother's body as the carriage drew closer and closer to Lanfore. He had to remind himself that he had never seen Lanfore, having grown up in the small Hamlet a few miles away called Little Lanfore, his mother grew up here, had a home here, had friends here, and loved here. Lanfore, in all respects, had been her home, and he was the reason she had to leave.
Should I apologize? I should apologize.
"Mother..."
"Look, darling!" His mother sat up and pointed out the carriage window. "Hurry, look!"
John frowned and sat forward to glance out the window to where his mother was pointing. What showed was a small, quaint little cabin on the outskirts of Little Lanfore, which they had just passed through. It was a simple little thing, with a new family living in it, but it looked exactly the same as John could remember it.
"That was our home when I was a boy," he whispered.
"How wonderful, I cannot believe it is still there. Such a lovely little home, and your father spent so much time with us there."
John watched with melancholy as the house became smaller and smaller in the distance, as did the memory of his father. He hardly remembered the man beyond him being the reason he received the education that he did or had the home that and his mother had. His mother might have felt a certain warmth when she saw the house, but all he felt was a basket of nothing, like watching a fleck of your memory flash before your eyes before it disappeared entirely.
"We are going to arrive very soon," his mother murmured. "Such an odd feeling. The last time I was in Lanfore I..." She paused. "I was leaving your father."
"The first time, you mean?" John asked.
She nodded. "I found out that I was pregnant with you and I had to leave, of course. That was a very difficult night for... Many reasons." She sighed. "It was hard to leave your father, but it was even more difficult to leave Lanfore."
"You told me once of a man that helped you," John said. "A footman that worked in Dawn-Bridge the same time that you did?"
His mother laughed. "Oh, yes. Brandon was his name, son. Brandon Dorsey. The very best of men, and the reason why your middle name is 'Brandon'."
John smiled. "You told me that once, when I was boy. I don't ever actually recall meeting this Brandon."
"No, you never did, and I do regret that," his mother sighed. "Did I ever tell you the story of the woman who birthed you?"
John shook his head but he leaned forward, intrigued.
"Her name was Amys, Brandon's sister. She was a midwife in London and she took care of me during my pregnancy. She is actually the reason that I dipped my toes in midwifery myself."
"I thought you said you did it because you wanted to have practice for when Eliza was with child." John replied.
"That was the reason, but all inspirations have their origins, and Amys was mine." She laughed. "And if you can believe it, your father showed up to your birthing."
"Mother, don't make up stories!"
"Don't take that tone with me," she swatted his knee. "He arrived almost at the last minute."
John still didn't believe it. "How is that possible if he was in Lanfore and you were in London?"
She shrugged. "I suppose someone told him what was happening and the only other person that knew was Brandon." She sighed. "I know I told him to keep quiet, but it was too much to ask. Your father arrived and he held me as I was in labor," she laughed, "now that I think about it, it must have been quite the picture."
John chuckled. "Nothing about my life has been anything less than extraordinary."
"Yes, my love, because you're extraordinary." His mother sat back. "You're a better version of me and your father."
"I am who I am because of you and father," John whispered, "for better and for worse."
His mother took his hand, squeezed it, and then looked out the window. "We're here."
John followed her gaze as it fell upon the place where it all started for the first time.
XXX
Lucy had to admit to herself that her situation was rather dire, but even she couldn't help but almost laugh at the image of her in a prison cell. She had suspected that this would be the conclusion to her confronting the Magistrate, but she could not in good faith sit idle. Ross had confessed, and she still did not know where she was. She had figured that perhaps the Magistrate would tell her when he realized that she would be compliant, but he did not, and now she was imprisoned, still accused for a crime she did not commit, and with no information about the man she loved.
It was dire, of course, but only slightly comical.
Fate did have an odd sense of humor. Lucy did not know if she was capable of being the hero of her story. It seemed that every time she tried, it backfired, this time in the worst possible way. It was an isolated feeling, being utterly out of control of one's own life, and she thought she would be used to it by now, but still she insisted on holding on to control. When was she going to learn that she was fighting a losing war?
James had tried to violate her, but instead she was the one being vilified for seducing and causing the murder the town hero.
Lanfore loved the Boatwrights. Like the Quincys they built this town, but they were far more amiable than her family, a fact that she heard often. The Quincys were cold, unfeeling, seemingly heartless but no less important. The Boatwrights were the heroes of the town; folk in Lanfore were one praise shy of building them a shrine in the center of the town square. James attempting to rape her was just not enough to get them to see sense, and the fact that the Magistrate informed the town of her mother's infidelity, she was the bastard witch who cursed the wealthy golden child.
In short, the cards were stacked against her from the beginning, and the feeling that reality brought her made her want to melt into a muddle of nothing and disappear from the world entirely. What was the logic of fighting a losing battle? What was the point? And throughout all of it, who was she becoming? Throughout this saga, what had she done to those she loved?
"What am I doing here?" She whispered.
Or, at least, she thought she had.
"Lucy?"
She looked up, having had her head in her hands, and stood, placing her hands on the left wall of her prison cell. "Who is it?"
"Lucy, oh my god!"
"Who are..." Reality hit her once again and her heart began to race. "It can't be."
"It is so good to hear your voice."
"I... Oh," She placed a hand over her mouth and held back a sob. "Am I dreaming? Is it really you?"
"Yes, my love," Ross said from the other side of the wall, his voice like a balm to her wounds. "This isn't a dream. I am here."
_______________________
Author's note: Well THAT just happened! Lucy and Ross are reunited... Sort of? I suppose it's a matter of perception...
Oh, and Malia's back! :) It's like Book 1 all over again!
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Please leave a vote and comment, let me know how you liked it, and I hope you enjoy the rest! <3
x.o. -Mila