Getting up with the dawnthat morning, while Eliza and Francine were still in bed, Fallon had riddenHoneyto the home of one of her favorite tenants. Mrs. Beadley had called her nothing short of a saint for easing her husband’s gout and making her younggranddaughter’steething a bit more soothing.Since Fallon had been a frequent guest to the local cottages surrounding Shawsea Hall, she had gained a certain rapport. Notonlywere many of them receptive to her, but most were glad to see her. In the short time she had been in residence, Fallon had earned their respect,andtheir loyalty as well, something that appeared to be in short supply when it came tothe lady of the manor.
And like most servants, the local villagers were privy toimportantinformation and with the right incentive, were more than inclined to share it.
Thus, with a basket of herbs and pastes that Fallon hadpreviouslymade upin the kitchens, she had left the house under the pretense of doing her usual rounds.
In truth, she was planning her escape.
“Oh, Miss O’Malley!” The broad smile onthe elderMrs. Beadley’s face was encouraging.
Fallon held up the basket in her hand. “I brought something for you.”
Instantly, her eyes brightened even further. “You’re a lovely dear.” She opened the door wider for Fallon to enter.
As usual, the small house was humble, but clean and she pretended that she didn’t see the two small faces peeking out from behind their bedroom door. “Joseph! Emma!” Mrs. Beadley waved her apron ather grandchildren. “Stop lurking over there and come greet our guest like proper children.”
Theyreluctantly shuffled forward. They were nearly the same height with brown hair and didn’t appear to be more thantwo and three, respectively. Fallon’s throat knotted with emotion, for she recalleda time where she wasn’t much olderwhen she’d been forced to care for the sick that had taken the lives of her parentsstruck by the famine. A part of her felt as though her childhood had been ripped away from her, but since there was no point in lamenting the past, all she could do now was safeguard her future that was being threatened.
After the children had murmured a greeting, Mrs. Beadley ushered them outside to play, where they quickly scampered with glee. Her hostess urged her to sit at the table while she walked over and put on some water for tea. “Alfred is doing so much better after the salve you made for him. He hardly has any complaints these days and work is much easier, and Martha tells me that herbabeis sleeping all through the night now too.We really can’t repay you enough forthekindnessyou’ve shown, notjustto our family, but to all thetenants.”
As Mrs. Beadley poured a cup for each of them, Fallon decided that if she was waiting for the right moment to bring up her request, it was now. “I’m glad I’ve been able to help and while I don’t expect anything in return, I would appreciate some information if you are willing to share it.”
“Of course. Anything.” She nodded. “It’s the least I can do.”
Fallon took a deep breath and considered the best way to bring up the subject. “Do you remember a woman that used to livein Southamptonby the name of Mary Reading?”
Mrs. Beadley’s brows drew together. “I do, in fact. The girl caused quite a scandal when she ran off with Kolin Durmor. Why do you ask?”
Fallon’s lungs tightened. Instead of replying directly, she asked a question of her own. “Do you think you would know her again if you saw her?”
After a brief consideration, Mrs. Beadley concurred. “I imagine so.”
With a trembling hand, Fallon withdrew the portrait of her mother and placed it on the table between them.Shepicked up the miniature and Fallon waited patiently, although every nerve ending was strung taunt.
“This is definitely Mary Reading.” She nodded in confirmation. “I would remember that dark hair anywhere. She always put me in mind of a gypsy.”
Fallon wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that the mystery of her mother’s past had been solved—or disheartened for the same reasons, for there were so many unanswered questions.
She took the picture back and tucked it in her skirts.
“Now that I think of it,” Mrs. Beadley murmured. “You resemble her.”
Fallon decided that there was no point in denying the truth. “That’s because she was my mother, although I always believed her name was Moira Burleigh.”
“Oh, I see.”Aftera brief pause, she said. “It must be very difficult for you to find out that someone you cared aboutso muchlied to you.”
“It is,” Fallon returned softly. “But I fear that isn’t mycurrentdilemma.”
As suspected, Mrs. Beadley had a compassionate ear and when Fallontold her of her suspicions regarding Martina Durmor, she had instantly sniffed in disapproval. “Even though I felt bad for her when her husband left, that doesn’t give her the right to treat you in such a manner and the intervening years hasn’t said much for her character either.” Shesniffed in disapprovaland then said, “I believe there’s a merchant ship leaving Hythe later this evening. Alfred’s nephewknows some of thecrew and I’m sure he would be willing to secure passage for you. I believe they have made a few trips to Ireland in the past.”
The fact that freedom could be within her grasp so soon nearly made tears come to Fallon’s eyes.
“I’ll send word when I know more.”
She reached out and grasped the other woman’s hand. “Thank you.”
“You just promise to take care of yourself and make sure to write to let me know you’re all right. I should hate to fret about you.”
For the first time in weeks, Fallon’s spirits started to rise. “I promise.”
