Because of Rebecca - By Leanne Tyler Page 0,63
Miss Josephine.” Charlotte rushed to her side and took Lucas. “I’m sure he needs changing. Like you need to change and fix your hair or you’ll be late for Mass.”
Josephine’s spine stiffened at the mention of church, but she and Ancil always went to the daily Mass. Why should today be any different? “Ancil, I didn’t realize you were here. You should have had Charlotte wake me.”
“I hadn’t been here long. She was telling me how you were up most of the night with him,” he explained. “If he’s having trouble sleeping I can give you something to rub on his gums that might help.”
She smiled. “I must look frightful. Let me go change.”
“Is everything all right with you, Josephine?” He stood and walked to her. “Charlotte said you were crying earlier.”
“Can’t a woman cry?” she asked.
“A woman yes, but Josephine Davis? It isn’t like you and it frightened the poor girl.”
She took a deep breath. “Let me go change. I don’t want to keep you from Mass. Perhaps we can get some lunch later? I’d like to talk to you if you have the time.”
He nodded.
Once inside her room, she closed the door and hurried through her toiletry, splashing water on her face and fixing her hair before putting on a fresh dress.
When she returned Charlotte sat at the table holding Lucas while he drank his bottle.
“Doctor Gordon and I are leaving now.”
“Will you be gone long, miss?” Charlotte didn’t look up when she spoke.
Josephine glanced at Ancil. “An hour or so?”
He nodded. “Maybe longer.”
They walked through the hotel in silence, but once they were outside Ancil asked, “Are you sure you feel up to going to Mass today? You look troubled. Maybe it would do you more good to talk than hear a sermon.”
“I am troubled.”
“Perhaps we should get something to eat? If you care to come to my place, I can fix us something. It won’t be fancy, just some bacon and eggs, but at least you can speak in private.”
She nodded. “I don’t know if I can tell you. You may not want to speak to me again once I do.”
Ancil took her arm in his and patted her hand. “I doubt there is anything you can say that would make me feel that way.”
She took a jagged breath and prayed he was right. They walked the distance in companionable silence. She drank in the fresh air and tried to relax, but her mind wouldn’t let her.
When they finally reached his place, they went into the kitchen and he began preparing the food while she waited. “Are you certain I can’t help?”
“Yes.” He cracked some eggs in a bowl and whisked them while the bacon fried. “So what has you so melancholy?”
“I’m a hypocrite.”
He stared at her for a moment. “Can you explain?”
“I use my work with the church as a disguise to keep others from suspecting the truth about me. I’m a wretched sinner.”
“We all are, Josephine, but what makes you feel you are so bad?” He opened the cabinet and took down two cups. “Do you want coffee or tea?”
“Coffee.” She placed her hands on the table in front of her and stared at them. “I disgraced my family when I was a young girl. I had a child out of marriage. And that child died giving birth to Lucas.”
He sat the cups down on the counter and stared at her. “L-Lucas isn’t Rebecca’s?”
She shook her head. “My brother and his wife took me to Europe to hide my pregnancy and to save me from ruin. They took Mariah as their own, raised her, but left her in my care when they died.”
“Does Rebecca know?”
“No. She was too young to remember all that went on back then. As far as she knows, Mariah was her sister, not her cousin.”
He reached for the coffee pot and poured them both a cup, bringing hers to the table. “Mariah is your daughter, but she died after giving birth to Lucas?”
“Y—yes. She asked Rebecca to take him as her own before she died. At least that is what Rebecca told me. I-I wasn’t in the room for the birth. I-I was in the parlor praying for forgiveness and mercy. I gave up my child and when she was in my care, I allowed her to be seduced by a gambler who took her innocence. I wasn’t fit to be a mother when I had her, and I wasn’t fit when she needed me most.”
The smell of burning bacon