Rose Court

Augustus Henshawe continued reading, "Lucy, if she shall affirm her parentage by taking on herself the name of the man whose intemperate passions sired her..."

A pop and crackle came from Edmund's seat, perhaps his knuckles.

"... shall be mistress for life of the demesne of Rose Court."

Clarissa's face twitched in pique. Her fan snapped up, far too late to hide anything, and of little other use on this cool, drizzly day.

Lucy understood her irritation. Rose Court was a convenient fetch from London, and although not a large country estate, was beautiful and well-appointed. Clarissa and Edmund often used it while visiting the capital. The front house was let to another aristocratic family, which allowed the estate to be self-supporting even on its small grounds. Its gardens were horticultural proving grounds more than aesthetic works, and had also brought income through Royal Patent varieties of rose and quince.

Edmund looked glumly into his lap, but the estate didn't mean as much to him personally. In Lucy's experience, Clarissa was the entertainer, while Edmund would rather visit others' estates and his clubs and entertainments, while having home as a place he ruled without the judgments and prying eyes of peers other than his closest cronies.

Lucy had often been subject to the whims of Edmund's rulership, from being spanked bare-bottom in front of the kitchen help for letting his tea grow cold, to having her intimate parts made free with however struck his fancy -- impulsively calling her aside and mounting her from behind in a closet or stairwell, or once at his window -- even, in Edmund's more intemperate youth, being offered as the prize after an evening of cards though as it occurred, Edmund and each of his friends had had a turn. And nine months later, Annie was born. She was grateful to Lord Jeremy and Lady Catherine for insisting that she be kept on. For many years, Edmund had kept his impulses under rein, but since Lord Jeremy's , he had returned to his old ways.

Lucy felt a flush of anger at Edmund. She rose to her feet. "I shall accept Lord Jeremy's bequest," she said. "And take the name Netherwood in his honor. My father's honor." She felt dizzy, as if the floor were shifting under her like a ship's deck. She had never had a father to protect and defend her. And now? Much had come to her, but late. Too late? She rubbed her belly, thinking of Annie. With a secure home with Lucy if she needed it, and Lady Catherine's dowry settlement, Annie would not want.

"We will not contest," said Edmund. He thrust a hand into a vest pocket, and papers crackled. Lucy wondered if Lord Jeremy had written a strongly enough worded threat into his sealed provisions that Edmund would not seek to turn the situation into Mr. Dickens' Bleak House, with herself as a scarlet-lettered Esther Summerson.

Edmund turned his face to Lucy's. "Sister..." he began. His throat worked, and his face reddened. "Sign, and let it be settled," he said.

She walked round the table past Edmund, to where Augustus Henshawe had a paper ready for her signature. She signed, in her half-learned hand, clear but not beautiful, LUCY LONGBOTTOM.

"My congratulations, Miss Lucy Netherwood," the portly, mustachioed solicitor said. "And the conveyance for Rose Court, now, in your new name."

Lucy stood for a second, her chest rising and falling with deep breaths. She bent and signed, LUCY NETHERWOOD. She stared down at her name, blinking. A tear fell down upon the page.

"Here, let me blot that," said Augustus Henshawe. He whisked a sheet of blotting paper over her signature and gently removed the excess ink and lacrimation.

Lucy walked back past Edmund. She bent down and hissed in his ear. "And never, never touch Annie as you touched me."

Edmund turned his face to hers. He stroked her flushed cheek. "My niece, my daughter's companion, will never know other than gentle kindness from me," he said. He met her fierce gaze with confidence. "And you have known little other than favour from me, even as a servant. It was I that sent Paul, December last."

"I don't believe you," she said. Paul was a young bachelor of Edmund's acquaintance who had been taken with her, despite her having twelve years on his age. Last December, while Edmund and Clarissa had been away, he had been with her for two weeks as a gentle, courtly lover as she kept house at Rose Court. Lady Catherine had discovered the two of them together, and had indulgently given her blessing. They had parted without promises, but with Lucy feeling herself twice the woman she had been.

"Believe what you will," Edmund said. "I never wished you ill."

"Edmund," Clarissa said.

"Yes, dear," Edmund replied. "Lucy, dear sister," he said. "Clarissa and I must meet our airship and cannot tarry, but Mr Henshawe will be at your disposal as to the particulars of your new name, settlement, and station."

Lucy blinked and nodded, but stopped herself before she could blurt out the habitual "Yes, sir."

"Farewell," Edmund said.

Lucy couldn't find the words to match him, so she nodded again.

Clarissa inclined her head to Lucy, and she and Edmund departed, her hand curled through his offered arm.

Lucy and Augustus Henshawe pored over another stack of documents for the better part of an hour before she pleaded exhaustion and an previous appointment of her own. They agreed on a time to resume their deliberations tomorrow.

In the solicitor's front office, she found Annie waiting. She told her daughter the news, which Annie described as 'ripping', 'cracking', and with other quite vivid words.

At her request, the solicitor's clerk Jenkins summoned her a cab. The hissing, bubbling beast of a steamcab soon rounded the corner, and Annie and Lucy climbed in the back. The driver secured their door.

"The Rose and Veil," Lucy said.

The cab negotiated the slippery pavements of the dim, drizzly afternoon and stopped at the corner of a broad square at the near the edge of the river. Lucy led Annie into the public house under the sign of the Rose and Veil, and quickly through to the back of the building where a narrow staircase led into a hallway lit by a single flickering gas mantle. Lucy tapped on the door at the end.

"Who is it?" A young woman's voice said.

"Lucy and Annie Longbottom," Lucy answered. "We have an appointment with Bess Rowan."

There were words exchanged behind the door.

"C'min then," the young woman said. She opened the door for Lucy and Annie.