The Harlot's Daughter

Chapter Five

Holding the horses to a slow, steady pace, Lynwood kept a keen eye on the children that played on the walkway, figuring they were oblivious to all but their game. A few women visited with one another, congregating at the top of a stoop that overlooked the youths; one mother calling out as the carriage approached, warning the children to keep to the walk and stay out of the lane. Lynwood nodded at a trio of men as he passed them, neighbors visiting, catching up with one another on their mutual day of rest. The men, Lynwood observed, looked tired, yet content. One could tell they worked hard for their living, while their equally hardworking wives ran efficient households, raising rambunctious, healthy, well cared for children. Counting himself incredibly blessed, Lynwood thanked the good Lord that his only daughter resided in a home such as these. Rose's husband, Leland, a solicitor by trade, provided very well for his family, Lynwood's grandchild was a robust, healthy lad, the boy growing and progressing at the usual rate. Lynwood chuckled, thinking of the last time he saw the babe, wearing a happy grin while pulling himself up using Lynwood's trouser leg, Henry had teetered for a few seconds before falling back to land square on his swaddlings. A slight frown had been the boy's only response to the failed attempt; mere seconds going by before the boy was grinning and pulling himself back up again. Next week could not come soon enough, it was every other Sunday that Lynwood had dinner with his family and spent the afternoon. Leaving the townhomes behind him, Lynwood led the team down a sedate road housing businesses on his way downtown. 

At his master's request, Lynwood passed taverns and boarding houses, his goal the tenements that wore a pall of grey, appearing bleak and dismal, one right after the other, very close together with narrow, dark alleyways running between them. Lynwood slowed the team to a crawl, searching each alley as he passed by, looking for little souls who had none to care for them. Children did not run and play on the walks here; those who had homes were either inside or sitting lethargically on the stoops, pale and skinny, averting their eyes as Lynwood went by. Lynwood nodded at any person he passed respectfully, their gazes in return were downtrodden and mistrustful, their suspicious glances aimed at the well-appointed carriage forcing wariness while accomplishing his deed. Moving his coat back a smidgen to expose the holstered pistol worn at his side, checking the rifle's exact location where it protruded from its scabbard to his left, Lynwood felt he could defend himself should there come a need to do so. 

Lynwood's sharp gaze found what he sought: Violet instructing him well these last few weeks. Before Master Petals had come to live at Shelly, Lynwood did not troll the alleyways, much less would he have known that there were babes tucked in under all of the filth. Driving out of the squalor, Lynwood knew he would not rest easy until he returned with Violet. Lynwood, being a grandfather himself, knowing there were children beset with abandonment, hunger and cold, could only imagine how frightened the poor, innocent children must feel.

Impatient to alert Violet of the need, Lynwood turned back towards the Duke's residence to collect his young mistress and fetch her home.

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Sharing the rear, forward facing seat in the carriage, Margaret watched with fondness as Elizabeth enthusiastically entertained her captivated boy. Daniel's pointed, little toes poked at Elizabeth's lap, his tiny arms waved about haphazardly while Elizabeth held him upright, her hands wrapped securely around his small, round belly. Margaret chuckled, as Elizabeth repeatedly feigned the most boisterous sneezes, much to Daniel's gleeful delight. Waiting expectantly through her exaggerated 'ah's', the babe chortled with laughter when Elizabeth's dark, brown curls bobbed all about her face upon her sharply exclaimed 'achoo's'.

Margaret was content simply watching the two, seeing Daniel's drooping eyes, hearing the increasing exhaustion in his laughter, she knew he was tiring quickly, that he would most likely sleep for the better part of their journey. Taking a blanket from her other side, creating a small nest with it between herself and Elizabeth, Margaret prepared for when Daniel tired of their game. Placing a smaller, softer wrap onto her lap, Margaret once more turned her gaze upon the two playing happily beside her. After a few seconds, however, Margaret's mind drifted far away from the coach altogether.