She wanted the pain, she craved it. She wanted to remember, to feel. Life wasn’t about wealth or privilege, but knowing the beauty of friendship, of family, the pain and joy of love—of Zachary’s and Caroline’s love.
Would there ever be a time to feel the warmth and pleasure in his powerful arms, the unexpected gentle caress of his hands as he made love to her, to see his handsome face, or hear him laugh or tease her? Or to bear his child?
Her breath came in short, hurtful gasps. Would he ever forgive her? Would he understand Dyer’s threats against her child and to him that forced her into a marriage she never wanted?
A small sound trickled from the shadows. Framed in a triangle of light stepped her daughter. “Caroline!” Elizabeth cried, rising to her knees and throwing her arms wide. “Come here, darling.”
The fragrance of soap, shampoo, and little girl rolled in sunshine and flowers assailed Elizabeth as she hugged andhugged her daughter. Nothing could be more joyful than holding her slender frame. She was the sun and moon to Elizabeth’s world.
Elizabeth’s gut kicked. Dyer had imprisoned her daughter to keep Elizabeth in line. He had known all those years that Caroline was his daughter. He had done nothing for her. She held Caroline back for a moment, struggling to keep the desperation out of her voice. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, Miss Spencer.”
“Caroline, there is a very bad man holding us against our will. Do not fear. I’ll think of something.” A knock came at the door. Elizabeth rose.
A maid with her arms full of Elizabeth’s elaborate lace wedding gown entered. “I’m to help you prepare for your big day.” Emotionless, the woman flitted about Elizabeth like a silent butterfly, stringing silk ribbons through her satin slippers, draping the silk gown over her head, and then departed. No help from that quarter.
Caroline sat on the bed, her violet eyes, so much like Elizabeth’s own, large in her small face. “You look like a fairy princess.”
Elizabeth sat next to Caroline. “I must tell you something that I needed to tell you long ago.” No more was she going to hide the fact that she had a daughter. All the years, anxiety and worry of hiding her treasure had come to an end. She didn’t care about what her parents or society thought. Elizabeth drew a deep breath. “I’m your mother.”
“I know you are my mother,” Caroline said.
Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open. “You knew?”
“Joseph and I figured it out a long time ago. We know where you live. We went out nights and watched you from the rooftop next door. You have a pretty blue bedroom.”
Elizabeth squeezed her daughter’s slight shoulders. The minx had watched her from the rooftop across the street? “What were you doing on a rooftop? Why it’s near four stories high. Didn’t anyone notice you were missing from the orphanage?”
“Joseph took me on tours of the city. Oh, the wonderful sights I’ve seen.”
“On rooftops? You could have fallen and broken your necks. Wait until I talk to Joseph. Right now, we must escape.”
Elizabeth tried the door. “Locked.”
Both placed their ear to the door, listened to the guards talking on the other side. Footsteps retreated down the hall. “Dyer is sending several men to burn down Rourke’s factory and to kill him. We must warn him.”
“Give me two of your hairpins,” Caroline commanded.
“What?”
Caroline blinked twice, stretched out her palm and repeated herself. “Give me two of your hairpins.”
Elizabeth pulled the pins from her coiffure, handed them over and watched while Caroline inserted one of the pins into the bottom of the keyhole.
“I suppose Joseph taught you this trade.”
“He’s taught me many things. We must hurry while the guards are gone.”
Elizabeth shook her head. Her daughter was on the road to delinquency.
“I must apply the right tension in the direction you’d turn the key. I’ll insert the other pin and lift the interior pins of the lock one by one, maintaining tension until all the pins are set.” Snap. Caroline turned the lock, and the door sprung open.
Caroline lifted her finger to her mouth to silence Elizabeth and then peeked into the hallway. She shook her head, her blonde ringlets bouncing as she pressed the door shut. “Thereare two guards. Joseph called this a dead end. We’d not be able to slip out of the orphanage on dead end nights.”
Elizabeth covered her face with her hands. “We’re doomed. I’m powerless.”
A tapping sound thumped the window, a continued sharp staccato pitter-patter. It wasn’t a branch because the trees were not high enough. Not birds. The subsequent scrape of a chair. Elizabeth whirled.
