“She said that it is better to leave the baby with you. That leaving her in a parish will not guarantee a good life. She believed that Melody would be sent to a workhouse or even worse,” the seamstress continued, shuddering. “Even if I kept her, I would not be able to give her what she truly needed: protection. A child with uncertain parentage would not fare well in this world.”
“She made the right decision,” Victoria breathed, a tear rolling down her cheek. “When did she pass?”
“I can see that little Melody is well-loved,” Martha said. “So, yes, Sophie made the right decision. She died a week after I left the baby at your house. She died knowing that her daughter did not end up in the gutter. I sometimes wondered if she was just waiting for confirmation before she finally let go.”
Victoria reached into her reticule with one hand, trying to get something. Richard reached out for Melody so that she could free her hands. His wife nodded at him gratefully, while the baby fussed a little until she settled. Pride bloomed in Richard’s heart. Melody seemed to have accepted him fully as a safe space.
“Where is Sophie buried, Miss Ewing?” Victoria asked, as she dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief. “We would like to pay our respects.”
“It’s at St. Jude’s. You will have to look closely in the pauper’s corner. I had to pay a few more shillings to ensure the sexton placed a small marker for her.”
“Thank you, Miss Ewing. You were a friend to her when she was lost and had nowhere else to go.”
“Did you never find out who Melody’s father was?” Richard wanted to know. “Who sired this poor little girl and left a young woman dead?”
Martha looked at him with wide eyes. He swore that there was fear in them, but he could be wrong, projecting his own fears on her. He also wondered if the fear was due to the forcefulness of his voice.
Bitter anger rose from within him.
How could anyone help extinguish a young woman’s life?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Victoria felt all kinds of emotions in Martha Ewing’s house: expectation, relief, sorrow, and now, tension. She had never seen or heard Richard so angry before.
Her husband sat next to her with Melody on his lap, but she could feel the tension from his rigid posture. His eyes were focused on the seamstress, intent on finding out the truth. Meanwhile, Martha looked like she had been rendered speechless.
“We need to know, Martha,” Victoria said gently.
“S-she didn’t want to tell me at first,” the seamstress whispered. “She was ashamed and afraid. I think she thought that by saying the name, he’d find her. However, eventually she told me. I think she wanted me to know in the end who to hide Melody from.”
Victoria felt cold all over, something in her gut telling her that it was a more serious matter than she ever thought it was.
“Who was he, then? We have Melody now, and must know who to protect her from.”
“Lord Penwike.”
The name was spoken softly as if there were dark magic in saying his name, and that he would find them afterward. Silence followed. It roared in Victoria’s ears. Yet, she also knew that the impact on Richard must have been worse.
She reached for Melody and secured her in her arms as her husband’s jaw tensed hard.
Her world seemed to tilt. She could still remember Penwike stalking toward them at each ball, as if drawn by some private purpose. He wanted his presence to be known. He sneered, his full arrogance on display. He was trying to gather information about Melody, his own flesh and blood. He must have known.
Richard remained quiet for a moment, breathing in and out. His stillness terrified her. What was going on in his head? It couldn’t be good.
“Penwike,” he echoed.
From his lips, the name didn’t resonate with fear. Instead, the syllables sounded like gravel.
“Yes, it was him,” Martha confirmed. “Sophie worked for the marquess. She was very young, just turned twenty. She was poorand without any sort of protection. So, he took advantage of her situation and his position over her. He had asked her to sort some of the books in the library, since she could read well. Then, he cornered her there that same night while the rest were in the kitchen or tending to other duties. He threatened her, saying that if she screamed, he would have her arrested for theft.”
Victoria gasped, one hand covering her mouth in horror. Melody fussed as if she could read what she was thinking. The duchess could not help but look down at the child. She had once thought and wished that the baby was the result of a forbidden love, but the truth was harsh. She could not believe that a monster like Penwike had made this little life possible. No, she would not think of him at all when she looked at Melody. The baby was Sophie’s child. That was it.”
“Go on,” Richard commanded, as if he knew there was more to the story.
Victoria could no longer stomach whatever else Martha had to say, but she also understood the importance of details. She needed to know what happened to Sophie next. She wanted to get to know Melody’s mother better.
“Sophie quit when she realized she was carrying the marquess’ child,” Martha narrated. Even as she tried to keep her voice even, a tear rolled down her cheek. “She already knew that Penwike would not acknowledge the baby or that he would spout accusations against her to save his own face. Leaving voluntarily seemed a much better idea than being sent out in the streets. Fortunately, she found me. I could say we found each other. Imade it clear to her from the beginning that I didn’t care that she was with child out of wedlock. When I found out how the pregnancy came to be, I vowed to care for her even more.”
