The warm water felt good on her skin, and on her son’s, given the evidence of his sparkling eyes and drooling, gummysmile. She tenderly rubbed the damp cloth over his glistening cheeks, his rounded tummy, his pudgy, kicking legs. The gentle motions of the peaceful, maternal task soothed her nerves.
Unbidden, the water lapping in the tub and her wet, wrinkled fingers transported her back to the scene of the accident, until she saw neither Danny’s face nor heard his happy gurgles, but other sights and sounds less lovely.... The frigid water sloshing inside the overturned carriage and lapping against its cracked walls. The cry of a distant seagull. A heavy weight pressing against her. Her hands, wet and cold. Another hand, the ring...
For a moment Hannah squeezed her eyes shut and tried for the hundredth time to remember. Had she seen Marianna? Grasped her hand? She could almost feel Marianna’s hand in hers, feel the bite of metal in her palm—the large, sharp ring. Had Marianna been alive, awake, alert, even then? Or had she been pulled from Hannah’s grip and floated away, only to be revived later, perhaps by the water or a passerby, if the report of her sighting was true. If she was, indeed, alive. But how... how had it happened?
Danny’s happy coos became mild fussing, and Hannah realized the water had cooled.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” she murmured and carefully lifted him from the tub, wrapped him in a cozy towel, and dried his face and hair as best she could with her hindered hand. Then she dressed him in a clean cloth, cap, and nightdress, and swaddled him in a small blanket.
Holding his warm body close, Hannah sat in the rocking chair and looked down into his face. Her heart surged with love for him. Such a small person. Such a large part of her heart.Thank you, God, for blessing me with this beautiful little life.
One of Danny’s little fists escaped his swaddling and she took it in hers. Tears pricked her eyes and she whispered, “What are we going to do, my love?”
———
James went in search of Hannah and found her alone in the nursery, rocking Daniel. As he crossed the threshold, she looked up at him with damp eyes. Then her gaze lowered to the valise in his hand and the coat over his arm, and her face clouded.
“You’re leaving?” she asked.
“Yes. Sir John wishes me to verify the sighting of Lady Mayfield.”
Her lips parted in surprise. “What did he say when you told him? Was he shocked?”
“Not that I could tell. I wonder if he had an inkling all along.”
Hannah drew in a breath. “Perhaps he did. And that is why he hesitated to... report her death.”
James nodded. “And that’s not all. In case she is alive, he wants me to gather evidence against her and her lover. Evidence for a civil trial.”
She stared at him.
“Do you know what that means?”
Hannah shook her head.
“If Mr. Fontaine is judged guilty of alienation of affection, then Sir John can pursue the matter in the ecclesiastical court, charge Marianna with adultery, request a legal separation and ultimately a divorce.”
Hannah stared at him, but said nothing.
“It will take a long time and cost a great deal of money. Even if he is successful, he would not be able to remarry unless Parliament passes a bill that allows him to do so. Meanwhile, Marianna would become a social outcast and Sir John’s reputation would suffer as well, which would hurt him—and me—professionally and personally.”
“Then why would he go through all that?”
James shot her an irritated look. “Why do you think, Hannah?”
Pain crossed her face, and he immediately regretted his sharp tone. He sat on the bed near the rocking chair and lowered his voice. “Look, I know you felt compelled to stay here with Sir John, since he was willing to acknowledge Daniel, and allowed you to carry on as Lady Mayfield. But if Marianna is alive? Tell me you understand that everything has changed! Please don’t do anything rash until I return. Don’t forget—he has forgiven her before and he’ll do so again. Don’t think he won’t.”
She ducked her head and whispered, “I know.” She looked down at the child in her lap and caressed one of his small fists.
James laid his hand over hers, holding them both in his determined grip. “Better we found out now than months from now, before this had gone on too long. We might yet hush it up. But if you had returned to Bristol with him, or some other city, and more people discovered the deception...?” He shook his head, indignant at the thought. Then he looked into her eyes again. “We should be grateful. I am grateful. Promise me you’ll wait, Hannah. Don’t give in to him while I’m gone. And don’t give up on me.”
For a moment, Hannah said nothing. Then, instead of answering, she pulled a letter from her pocket. “Before you go, I think you should have this.”
James’s heart froze. Had she written him a letter of farewell? “No, Hannah. Not like this—”
She shook her head, interrupting, “It’s not from me. It’s a threatening letter Mr. Fontaine sent to Sir John.” With a meaningful look, she pressed it into his hand. “Just in case.”
After Mr. Lowden left, Hannah carried Danny down to Becky and then took herself to Sir John’s room.
