The Reverend's Daughter (Book 2 after The Duke's Daughter)

Twenty Four Part One

Today, Margaret would be able to see him hang. She would see the evil, demented man, who had beaten and abused her, hang by his neck til he be dead.

Margaret slipped out the back of the Duke's manse, her wee babe wrapped up warmly in her arms. She went around to the side gate and let herself out onto the walk.

She walked briskly, knowing she had quite a bit of ground to cover, but she had not wanted to bother the Earl and Countess with her needs.

Margaret had already been vindicated once, when Pedro had mercifully killed Marcus Bailey.

That act had relieved Margaret to no end. She did not want to have to kill Bailey herself, but, had it not been for Tiny guarding him on that beach, she could not say whether she would have found a chance to slit Bailey's throat. She would be forever grateful to Pedro for doing the deed.

Just in case the babe she carried had been Bailey's, she wanted no ties to the man, and she had been able to lay that worry to rest.

Her babe had blue eyes, and so had Bailey, yet, Margaret did also, so there were no real answers there.

She looked down at the wee boy in her arms. She loved him with all her being and she held him a little bit tighter before kissing his precious forehead right below his small shock of black hair. He furrowed his brow in his sleep, making her smile slightly.

Margaret had black hair, like the babe, and all she could find when she searched his face, was a reflection of herself. She was a blend of European and Asian, her mother had been impregnated by an Englishman. Upon telling him about her state, she had never seen or heard from him again. Her rent had not been paid, and she had not been left with many options.

Margaret's mother had been a mistress, who then became a prostitute in her desperation. She sold herself for years, then she finally sold Margaret at the slave auction, when Margaret had been but five years old.

Margaret had then been a house slave until she was thirteen. She had fled from that house, the one belonging to her first master, because he had abused her maliciously when he drank. She had ran away with three cracked ribs and a broken jaw.

A big, blonde man had seen her begging on the street, he had offered her a home, employment, and refuge, and that was when Marcus Bailey had taken control of her life.

The hatred she carried for Marcus' being, and his lies, caused her to pray daily that he had not been the one to father her child. Though he had used her regularly, when the whim struck him.

She walked on down the streets determinedly, her hurried stride bringing her closer to the Tower with every step. She could now see a crowd accumulating out in front of her.

She walked on, past the people that were congregated around the hangman's platform, to stand hidden at the back of the crowd.

Luckily, the babe slept, he had been up through the night periodically and Margaret hoped he would continue sleeping until they returned back to the Duke's residence.

Margaret was free of her former enslavement now, but without employment or a family, she was at a disadvantage, and she was at the mercy of strangers.

The Earl and Countess were most kind, and they had promised to help find a safe haven for her and the babe. Yet, Margaret honestly did not know what she had been thinking to leave the island.

Had fear clouded her judgement when she fled the place that held so many bad memories?

Now she found herself even more lost, in a world she was not familiar with. She knew the English language and that was the extent of her knowledge of this place. Growing up in the Orient, and then spending years on an isle, had not broadened her horizons extensively.