Page 24 of The Lovers (Echoes from the Past #1)

FOURTEEN

James observed from a safe distance as Elise stepped out from the narrow house.

She didn’t look back but hurried out of the alley and down the street, her head lowered and her hood obscuring her face from passersby.

James watched her turn the corner but made no move to follow.

He knew where she was heading but didn’t know whom she’d visited.

He’d wait a few minutes and go knock on the door, pretending to be in search of someone.

James was just about to carry out his plan when the door opened, and a young man stepped into the alley.

He appeared to be in his early twenties and had a pleasing countenance, his best feature being his eyes.

Although his clothes were not as fine or fashionable as those of a gentleman, he clearly took pride in his appearance and tried to look the part of a well-to-do man.

His step was unhurried, and once he reached the corner, James peeled himself away from the wall he’d been leaning against and followed the man.

He didn’t go far, only as far as the Tabard Inn, where he turned into the courtyard and eventually disappeared through a door.

James decided not to bother waiting and walked briskly toward the river.

He spotted Elise in a boat that was still not too far from shore, her shoulders stiff, and her eyes fixed on the London side.

Her hands were folded in her lap, but James could see the tension coursing through her body.

He stepped into a boat and took a seat, his eyes never leaving Elise.

The morning was clear, and Elise would easily recognize him if she glanced in his direction, so James pulled his hat lower over his eyes and huddled into his cloak.

He could be any of a number of men crossing the Thames for business or pleasure .

Elise jumped out of the boat as soon as it docked, paid the ferryman, and hurried in the direction of Asher Hall.

It made no sense to follow her, so James walked to a nearby tavern, found a table in the corner, and ordered a slice of pork pie and a tankard of ale.

He hadn’t had any breakfast, thanks to Elise, and since it was nearly time for the midday meal, he was ravenous.

The pie wasn’t half-bad, the crust flaky and hot and the filling flavorful and moist. James took a long pull of ale and leaned back in his chair, gazing out the grimy window at the river flowing past. The water sparkled in the morning sunshine, and the docks were a beehive of activity with men loading and unloading goods and going to and from the warehouses situated along the docks.

Edward had charged James with keeping an eye on Elise, but until today there had been no cause to follow her.

Elise rarely left the house, and when she did, it was in the company of Lucy.

They attended services at St. Martin-in-the-Fields and occasionally took a walk along the riverbank on fine days.

Elise met no one and had received no visitors since the day of the wedding, not even her father.

James found that to be odd, but then he supposed that the notion of devoted and loving parents was something he dreamed about since childhood, not realizing that even those children who had living parents weren’t always cherished or even cared for.

James signaled the barmaid for another slice of pie and returned to his troubled thoughts.

He could tell Lord Asher that Elise had snuck out and gone to Southwark to meet a man, but did he wish to betray her?

She had been inside the house no longer than a quarter of an hour and came out looking just as tidy and neat as when she’d gone in.

Had anything of a lewd nature taken place between her and the man, she’d have emerged looking at least a little disheveled and looking guilty or elated.

Instead, she looked anxious, no doubt wondering what awaited her once she returned.

James hoped that Lady Matilda was still abed and would not give Elise a tongue-lashing.

The old stick’s only pleasure in life was to intimidate the servants, belittle Barbara, and chastise Elise.

James hoped that on this occasion, she would be denied the pleasure since the servants would make no mention of Elise’s absence, even if they had noticed that their mistress wasn’t in the house, unless asked directly.

The truth was that no one particularly cared what Elise did.

Edward wasn’t outwardly cruel to her, but he made no pretense of treating her as one would treat a wife.

He did not invite her to accompany him to court, nor did he entertain at home and present Elise to his friends and their ladies.

She was there for one purpose and one purpose only, and James felt a stab of guilt as he considered his own part in her lonely life.

James gulped down the rest of his ale, threw several coins on the table, and stepped outside.

Ordinarily, he would have gone back to Asher Hall, but the day was fine, and he felt too wound up to attend to his usual tasks.

He strolled along until he came upon a small shop that sold candied fruits and marzipan and bought half a dozen of each before continuing on to Blackfriars.

Mercy opened the door, her elfin face lighting up when she saw him. “Hullo, Uncle James,” she sang as she danced around him.

“Hullo, yourself.”

“Mam went out to buy some fish. I’m ’ere alone with the baby. ’E’s sleeping,” she added.

“All right. I’ll wait, then. Would you like a sweet?”

Mercy’s eyes grew round with excitement. “Yes, please.”

James took two pieces out of the paper cone given to him by the seller and handed them to Mercy. She couldn’t be trusted with all the sweets, the little imp, and he had to save some for Molly and Elizabeth. Peter didn’t like sweets and would likely give his portion to the girls anyhow .

“Wipe your face afore your mam gets back,” James chided with a smile. Mercy’s lips and chin were covered with sugar and her hands were sticky.

Mercy used the back of her hand to wipe her face. “There, all clean.”

James was about to chide Mercy for being slovenly but bit back the criticism when he heard the thin mewling of the baby.

Harry sounded more like a kitten than a child, and James’s heart turned over for his sister.

He’d heard the girls’ lusty cries when they were hungry.

They howled with rage and would not be denied, but this little mite just fussed.

James turned to tell Mercy to get her brother, but she had disappeared outside.

James left the bag of sweets on the table and went up to the sleeping quarters above.

The baby was lying in his cot, eyes wide, mouth open in a soundless cry.

He was pale and small and hardly weighed anything at all when James picked him up and held him close.

“How are you, little lad?” James asked softly as he rocked the baby. “Your mam will be back soon. Would you like to come downstairs with me?”

The baby just eyed him suspiciously, but James took that as a good sign.

At least he wasn’t crying. James carefully made his way down the stairs, mindful of the baby in his arms. Where was Mercy anyway?

He’d never been alone with a child and was at a loss.

The swaddling was wet and smelled of urine, and the baby was squirming in his arms, either from discomfort or hunger.

James breathed a sigh of relief when Mercy finally came back through the door. She looked at the bag of sweets with longing but made no move to touch it.

“Where’ve you been, girl?” James asked, irritated.

“Had to go to the privy, didn’t I?” the girl replied with equal annoyance. “Give ’im ’ere. ’E needs ’is nappy changed. ”

James gratefully surrendered the baby and watched as Mercy skillfully changed him.

She’d make a good mother one day, if she didn’t dance herself into trouble.

She was nothing like her sister, Elizabeth, who was serious and diligent in everything she did.

Mercy also wasn’t as plain. Elizabeth favored her father in looks, but Mercy, with her bouncing dark curls and dark blue eyes, reminded James of a young Molly.

She’d been a beauty and had known it. All the young men in the village hoped she’d show them a sign of favor, but Molly had chosen Peter and never looked at anyone else.

James rose to his feet as the door opened, and his sister near fell over the threshold. She was carrying a heavy sack of flour, and the basket slung over her arm was full of fish.

“Here, let me help,” James offered as he took the bag from Molly.

“Thank ye,” Molly breathed as she set the basket on the table. She looked reproachfully at the sweets. “Ye spoil us, James.”

“Can’t I bring my sister and her children a small treat? I’ve got no one else to spoil,” James replied, annoyed at being reprimanded.

“Well, maybe it’s time ye did,” Molly retorted, bringing up an old argument. She thought it was high time that James married and started a family of his own, but James, although not averse to the idea, had never met a girl he could see himself spending the rest of his days with.

“Mam, ’Arry is ’ungry,” Mercy piped in. “I just changed ’is nappy.”

“Right,” Molly exhaled as she reached for the baby. Harry latched on to his mother’s breast hungrily and James felt his heart turn over at the look of pure love in his sister’s eyes. If anything nurtured the little boy, it would be the affection of his mother .

“Eat up, little mite,” she told him as she settled herself by the hearth. “Mercy, start the dough for the bread. Yer da will want ’is dinner soon, and I ’ave no bread to give ’im.”

Mercy made a face of discontent but didn’t argue and poured some flour right onto the table where she would knead the dough.

“What’s new at the manor?” Molly asked.

James shrugged. There was so much he wanted to tell Molly, but suddenly the words deserted him. He wasn’t ready to hear what she had to say about Elise.

“Ye daft fool,” Molly breathed as she studied his face with a look of abject pity. “Ye care for ’er, don’t ye?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” James retorted but heard the note of panic in his voice. Molly always saw right through him; he didn’t need to say a word.

“James, ye’ll come to no good if you go on this way,” Molly chided.

“I’m not a child, Moll,” James replied, suddenly feeling defensive. “I’m a grown man who knows his own mind.”

“Oh, really? Do ye? And what is in that mind of yers?” Molly demanded.

James was about to reply when Molly’s attention shifted to the baby. He could tell by her look of dismay that Harry had stopped nursing. He couldn’t have gotten much milk in the past few minutes, but his eyes were already closed, and he looked tired and pale.

“Oh, ’ave mercy on us, Lord Jesus,” Molly breathed as she gazed at her son .

James opened his mouth to speak but suddenly wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t know much about babies, but even he could tell that Harry was barely holding on to this life. Molly turned her face away toward the hearth, but James knew that she was hiding her tears.

“I’d better go,” James said awkwardly.

“Yes. Thank ye for the sweets. Elizabeth will be pleased.”

James closed the door softly behind him and walked away, his heart heavier than it had been when he arrived.