contact and share the information she had.
She sighed. There was one thing she knew for certain. Bryce would need a distraction. A simple mission for the man would never do. She tapped her finger against her chin. She needed something that would occupy him every day for the next week. A thought struck her and she sat up. Bryce didn’t need to stay. He’d more than fulfilled their initial agreement. Perhaps this was the solution she sought. Push him away, allow him to return to his home. Then she would have all the time she needed.
Lucy pondered the thought as she finished her bath. In a daze, she climbed from the lukewarm water. When dried and clothed, she made her way to the library. The room remained, in large part, the way it had been at her father’s passing.
Papers sat in neat piles upon the wooden desk. Books were liberally scattered upon tables. Dust touched everything.
Lucy hadn’t been in the house for some time. The butler, Thomas, had been given charge as overseer. It seemed the man had been slacking somewhat in his responsibilities. The cupboard had been empty upon their arrival and the dust had threatened to take over their lungs. Ashes rested in the fireplace, perhaps from her last visit into the city.
Shaking these thoughts from her head, Lucy became lost in memories.
Upon her father’s untimely demise, Lucy had found herself in a bit of a sticky situation. Motherless and raised primarily by a doting father, Lucy thought no secrets had been kept between them. Then he passed, and Lucy discovered things she’d rather not have known.
One night her father, a lawyer by trade, had been late in coming home for supper. Knowing the extent of her father’s business dealings, Lucy fretted until Thomas went out to search. When the butler returned empty-handed an hour later, Lucy’s worry had only increased.
Lucy had begged Thomas to continue his search but he said she was acting ridiculously. She beseeched him. Reminder after reminder had been put his way, as she continued to insist that it was unlike Mr. Lombard to be late.
Without thinking about the hour, the nip in the wind, or the dangers that awaited a lone woman on the streets of London, Lucy had finally rushed outside. Thick gray clouds had loomed overhead. Streaks of lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating her every step.
First she had gone to her father’s office and banged on the door, causing a neighbor to come outside.
“Afraid he’s left, missy. Can’t you see the lights are out? No one can work without a candle at this hour.”
Lucy had backed away and decided to follow the most logical path for her father to use. The lightning had ceased and the sky darkened further. Fear had settled in her heart.
Lucy still remembered the clop of horses, and men as they called boisterously to women of ill repute. Individuals hidden by the dark shadows had snaked out their hands, and Lucy had hastened away.
She raced ahead, sending frequent glances over her shoulder. With a fervent hope her father had returned home, she had set her foot to that end.
Although Lucy was deep in thought, a moan had caught her attention. She’d passed two brick buildings close together, parted only by a small alleyway. Deep within this area a man cried for help. She had stopped and placed a steadying hand on the brick wall. Lucy had wondered if she should go inside, and had decided she should, so as not to leave one stone unturned in the search.
A tentative step forward, and she had been consumed in darkness. She had found herself sealed in between the two buildings, and if the man planned to trick her she had nowhere to run.
With each step Lucy had taken, the noise of pain had grown louder.
“Help…”
The sound of the voice had urged her on. Impossible to see because of the height of the buildings, she’d grazed the bricks and shuffled her feet, kicking at debris, while trying to discover the creator of the mournful sound.
A burst of lightning had rent the air; a dark-stained hand reached out toward her. She covered her mouth to stifle a scream. Something glinted in the light: the ring.
“Father?”
“Oh, Lucille. What are you doing here?”
“Father?” she cried as she fell to her knees. “What happened to you?”
“Lucille, this is no time for hysterics. Assist me to my feet.”
The sound of pain had dissipated, replaced by his normal confidence. Regardless of the change in behavior,