"You'll have your money afterward."
The Snipe grumbled something about not being able to trust anybody, then focused on the stew.
"She'll see ye," Tilly announced when she returned. "She's making herself decent, then go on in."
He stepped into the room and let his eyes slowly adjust to the half-light that spilled through a slit at the curtains. An hour later he emerged. He wasn't surprised to find the beggar still there. The girl looked up at him expectantly.
"How long has she been like that?" he asked.
"A long time. Her memory comes and goes, always in bits and pieces. I can't make much out," Tilly answered with a shrug.
"Are you her daughter?"
"Daughter? No!" The girl made a guttural sound, then softened her words. "Me and Lydia teamed up about three years ago. She weren't so bad then. Lived in this little place over a few blocks. I needed a place to stay, and she needed somebody to help pay the rent. Her money didn't cover expenses."
"How did she make a living?"
"Lydia never worked the streets if that's what ye mean. She has money that comes in, but she was always spendin' it as fast as she got it. On all them fancy gowns and things that don't mean much in a place like this."
"Gowns?" he didn't understand what this had to do with anything.
"Yeah, like she was a grand lady or something. Called herself Lady Barrington."
Zach sat in the chair before the small desk in his cabin aboard theRevenge.He'd made his final plans for that night with Sandy and his crew. Now he tried to sleep, but found it impossible. He rested his head on the desk. The ship was cool and quiet, his men either topside seeing to last-minute details before they put to sea, or ashore with Sandy. Tobias would come aboard later.
The ship creaked as it rolled restlessly in calm harbor waters. It was as if she were as eager as he to be at sea again. Soon, he thought as he closed his aching eyes. He'd had no sleep in the last two days, and he'd have none for at least two more. But instead of fatigue, he felt the restlessness of the ship around him, the straining at the mooring ropes.
Lydia Roberts. A madwoman who fancied herself Lady Barrington. He'd been doubtful at first just how much he could believe. But the girl had confirmed enough.
Perhaps Lydia was mad, or perhaps she'd only retreated there where she knew no one would bother her. But as long as he lived, he'd never forget the look in her eyes when he'd entered the room and opened the curtains to let in light.
Bedridden, clinging to the elegant satin shawl about her shoulders, she'd stared at him, a half-lucid, half-crazed expression frozen on her face. Then her hand had flown to her mouth.
"You!" she'd cried. "It's you." And immediately she'd begun to cry, tears streaming from eyes decorated with cosmetics, and trickling down brightly painted cheeks until the colors of her makeup ran together, making her more pathetic than she'd first seemed.
"You've come back!"
She'd stared at him, her mouth moving, but no words coming out for the longest time. And when she finally spoke, she was in another time and place. She clung to his hand, begging his forgiveness, vowing her love, telling him things too fantastic to believe.
But Tilly had known the truth. She'd heard it countless times from Lydia in the woman's saner moments, and then, of course, there was the stipend that appeared each month, hand carried by a uniformed servant. He arrived, delivered the envelope into Lydia's shaking hands, then disappeared. And they lived for another month. Tilly supplemented the income from sewing she took in and from other more obvious activities.
She'd grown fond of Lydia. She listened to the stories, the rantings and ravings, and held the older woman when the tears came. One day she'd followed the uniformed servant back to his employer—Jerrold Barrington.
From Lydia's fragmented memories and what Tilly had told him, Zach knew he had the truth at last.
Lydia was a naive young girl of fourteen when she went to work at Fair View, the Barrington country estate. There she was trained as an upstairs maid by her aunt, who'd long been in the family employ. Once a pretty little thing, it was not long before she came to the attention of both Barrington sons, Alexander and Charles.
The older son, Alex, was favored by Lord Barrington. He had fair hair and eyes the color of quicksilver. Lydia loved him the minute she saw him. It was not so with Charles, who was four years younger. Perhaps that was the reason Charles pursued her.
So, while Lydia longed for a glance or a touch from her beloved Alex, she received those and more from Charles. With the ruse of a note purporting to come from Alex, he lured her to the stables and there took her innocence and her dreams. With youthful naiveté Lydia had hoped for Alex's love and had suffered for it.
The younger son turned her love for Alex against her, viciously blackmailing her into his bed. When he summoned her, she was forced to go to him or have Alex and Lord Barrington confronted with the truth. She thought her heart would break when she learned Alex was to marry Felicia Seymour
Zach shook his head. Felicia had once been betrothed to his father. That explained the passages in the journal. Lydia had remembered the pearl and diamond pendants, and the day she discovered Alex preparing to give them to her. Lydia had fled the room in tears, Alex not understanding the hurt he'd brought to the poor girl.
But Charles Barrington wasn't satisfied with luring Lydia away from Alex. He was driven by jealousy, anger, and the consuming greed of his own mother, Lord Clayton's second wife.
Alex was the favorite son, the firstborn. He would inherit the business, all the land, the title, practically everything except the small estate in Northumberland Lord Clayton had set aside for Charles. And Alex was to have the lovely Felicia as well. It was more than Charles could bear.
