Chapter 15

15

1885

Lillian folded down the blanket over Ellen's shoulders and gently smoothed back her hair. "Are you comfortable, dear?"

"Yes, ma'am. This bed is soft." Ellen looked around the room, then settled her gaze on Serena. "You're Miss Lillian's sister?"

Serena smiled. "That's right. You may call me Serena."

"Why are you in bed?"

"I'm recovering from pneumonia. That's an infection of the lungs."

Questions flickered in the girl's eyes. "How long have you been ill?"

"Quite a while. But I'm much better than I was. The doctor said I may get up and dress tomorrow. I'll have to take it slow, but I'm grateful to be improving."

"That's good." Ellen sent Serena a weak smile.

Lillian took a seat on the chair between their two beds. She'd agreed to bring Ellen into Serena's room that morning. The doctor felt it would help them both, and her sister seemed eager to encourage the young girl.

Lillian turned to Ellen. "Now that you're feeling a little bet ter, we hope you'll tell us more about yourself." What she really wanted to ask was how she had ended up at the Golden Swan, but she wanted to gain the girl's trust first.

Ellen's brow puckered. "What do you want to know?"

Serena turned toward Ellen. "How long did you work at the Golden Swan?"

Lillian's gaze darted to Serena, but her sister was focused on Ellen and didn't see Lillian's warning to go slow and give the girl time.

Ellen plucked at a loose thread on the sheet, then finally said, "About a year."

"And before that," Lillian asked, "did you live with your family?"

Ellen shook her head. "Never knew my real mum or dad."

Sympathy flooded Serena's expression. "I'm so sorry."

"My mum left me at the Foundling Hospital when I was just a wee babe."

Lillian's pulse surged, and she stared at Ellen. "You grew up at the Foundling Hospital?"

Ellen nodded. "Well, I lived out in the country with the McNeil family from the time I was a month old until I was almost six. Then they had to take me back to hospital. I didn't want to go, and they didn't want to send me, but they said that was the way it had to be."

Lillian's nerves tingled, and she leaned forward. "How did you get from the Foundling Hospital to the Golden Swan?"

"Most of the girls go out to work."

Lillian nodded. "That's what we've been told."

"After I turned eight Mr. Parker pulled me aside and told me he found a position for me and that I'd be leaving that night."

Serena frowned. "At night? That seems odd."

Ellen nodded. "Most girls had a nice send-off with their friends telling them good-bye and giving them little gifts when they went out to work. But not all of us. A few left without saying good-bye."

Serena's gaze darted to Lillian, and they exchanged a knowing look. She focused on Ellen again. "So, you left that night?"

Ellen nodded. "Mr. Parker told me not to take anything or tell anyone I was going. He said they'd be jealous and angry with me for getting such a good position." Her lips puckered as if she'd tasted something sour. "But he lied, that's for sure and certain."

Goosebumps raced down Lillian's arms. "He took you to the Golden Swan that night?"

"Yes, and I've been scrubbing floors, washing pots, and caring for the fires ever since." Ellen shook her head. "It's a bad place. Mr. Bradbury is mean, and Mrs. Crocker is not much better. I never want to go back there."

Lillian laid her hand on Ellen's shoulder. "You'll never have to go back. We'll make sure of it."

Serena shifted on her bed so she could face Ellen. "You left the Foundling Hospital a year ago?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Did you know a young girl there named Alice Dunsmore? She would be a year younger than you."

"What does she look like?"

Serena's voice softened. "She has blond hair and blue eyes, and they say she's very pretty."

"She went by the name Mary Graham," Lillian added.

Ellen's eyes lit up. "Mary Graham? I remember her. When she came to the hospital after staying with her country family, she cried herself to sleep almost every night. A lot of the little girls cry. I could tell she missed her country mum and dad and her brothers and sisters."

Tears flooded Serena's eyes. "Oh, my poor child."

Ellen looked from Serena to Lillian. "Do you know Mary?"

Serena sniffed and brushed a tear from her cheek. "I'm her mother. We tried to reclaim her, but the matron told us she'd died from the measles."

Ellen frowned. "Why did she say that? Mary was fine, at least when I was there."

Lillian passed a handkerchief to Serena, then turned back to Ellen. "We believe Mary was taken to work somewhere like the Golden Swan, but we're not sure. Mr. McGivern was looking for her when he found you."

"You were trying to find Mary, but you found me instead?"

"Yes. I'm sure the Lord sent us to intervene on your behalf."

Ellen sent her a confused look.

"What I mean is, God saw how you were being mistreated, and He sent us there to help you."

Her eyes lit with understanding. "I prayed to God, but I didn't know if He heard me."

Lillian placed her hand on Ellen's shoulder. "I believe He heard your prayers—and ours."

Ellen met Lillian's gaze. "Then we must keep praying for Mary."

Matthew straightened his shoulders and knocked on Mr. Stead's office door.

"Come in." The editor's booming voice filled the hallway.

Matthew pulled open the door and walked into the office.

Mr. Stead sat at his desk with stacks of files and folded newspapers covering the surface. He raised his head and looked at Matthew over the top of his glasses. "Do you have the article?"

"Yes, sir." Matthew passed him several sheets of paper.

"Do you realize what time it is? I was just about to leave for the day." He nodded to Matthew. "Sit down. I'll look this over."

He lowered himself into the chair and rubbed his damp hands on his pants legs. What was wrong with him? Why did he doubt himself? He was a good writer, and he'd spent hours polishing this story. Surely Mr. Stead would be pleased.

The editor's gaze skimmed across the first page. His brow creased, and he shook his head. "We can't use this."

Matthew sucked in a breath. "What? Why not?"

"This is like giving the answer before you've stated the problem."

Matthew frowned. "I don't understand."

"We can't start the series by telling how those young women at Mercy House are being transformed so they can lead new lives. You've got to start with the problem, grip your readers with the horror of what sent those girls down that dark path."

"But I thought writing about the young women at Mercy House would capture readers' attention and make them want to read the rest of the series."

He lifted his hand. "We can't lead with that!"

Matthew blew out a breath. "If you don't want to start there, what do you want?"

"Tell me how those girls ended up in such dire circumstances. What's the connection between their stories and the girls who are missing in White Chapel? Explain the danger young women face. Write an article that will make me weep and cry out for justice!"

"You want me to go back to Mercy House and do more in-depth interviews?"

Mr. Stead leaned back in his chair and ran his hand down his beard. "The best angle would be to find one girl and focus on her story, from start to finish. Describe her experiences in detail and show how painful and unjust her life has been."

"Just one girl?"

"You can add information about others so readers will understand the full scope of the problem, but keep the focus on that one girl for the first article." Mr. Stead lowered his gaze and scanned a few more lines. He made an unhappy noise in his throat. "I'm not sure you've got a girl at Mercy House who fits the bill."

Matthew huffed. "Well, I can't just pull a victim out of thin air."

"No, the story must be factual." Mr. Stead glared at him. "I've trained you to be an investigative journalist. Find one of those missing girls from White Chapel! Get the real story!"

Matthew rubbed his forehead, his thoughts swirling. He had a list of six girls who'd gone missing, plus Lillian's niece. He suspected one might have eloped against her family's wishes, but the other five appeared to be victims of abductions. He'd interviewed family members and friends and spoken to contacts in the seedier side of London. Word around White Chapel was that the girls had been taken to brothels or stolen away to the Continent.

Matthew met the editor's gaze. "I could focus on the search for Mary Graham, the girl who is missing from the Foundling Hospital."

Mr. Stead scowled. "Casting a negative light on the Foundling Hospital would not be the best choice, especially for the lead article. The men on the board of governors are respectable peers who have great influence. We want them as our friends, not our enemies."

Matthew clenched his jaw. Where did that leave him?

Mr. Stead thrust Matthew's article back. "Hold on to this for later. It's not a bad article. It's just not the right one to begin the series." He thought a moment more. "Take a lesson from that novelist Charles Dickens. Write each article with a suspenseful ending, so readers will be begging to read the next."

Matthew accepted the papers with a grimace. "How much time do I have?"

Mr. Stead crossed his arms. "You've got a week—ten days at the most. Get back out there and do what I'm paying you to do!"

Matthew rose from his chair. "Yes, sir."

Mr. Stead leaned forward. "Stop looking so glum. You're not sacked. I'm just redirecting your efforts so these articles will make the greatest impact."

"I understand." But Mr. Stead's rejection felt like a bitter blow. He'd done his best, researching and writing that article. Still, it wasn't good enough. He wasn't good enough. His father's scowling image rose in his mind, and he forced it away.

Mr. Stead stood and grabbed his hat from the shelf behind him. He strode around the desk and placed his hand on Matthew's shoulder. "You've got good instincts and determination. You'll find the right path forward."

Matthew thanked him and walked out of the office as the editor's words replayed in his mind. How was he going to find one of those missing girls and write a story that would satisfy Mr. Stead as well as grip the hearts and minds of readers across London?

He headed down the hallway and sent off a prayer. There is no way I can do this without your help, Lord. Show me the way. Guide me toward the story you want me to tell.

Lillian replaced the hymnal in the rack and remained standing as Reverend Howell rose and faced the congregation.

His gentle gaze traveled over the sanctuary, and he lifted his hand to pronounce the final blessing. "May the Lord bless you and keep you. May He lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace. Amen."

The congregation responded with a soft chorus of amens. Around her, people gathered their belongings and began moving out of the pews.

Lillian picked up her reticule and scanned the sanctuary. Where was Matthew? She'd sent him a note the day before and asked him to meet her after the Sunday morning service at Good Shepherd Church.

When she reached the rear door where Reverend Howell waited, she greeted him and offered her hand. "Thank you for your message. It was very meaningful."

He smiled and nodded. "I appreciate your kind words."

She leaned toward him and lowered her voice. "Have you seen Mr. McGivern? I learned something important I want to pass on to him."

"He was seated in the rear of the sanctuary and was one of the first to leave."

"Thank you. I'll look for him outside." She quickly crossed the nave and descended the stone steps to the churchyard. Several groups of people stood on the grass or walkway, engaged in conversations. Off to the left, near the path leading around the church, she spotted Matthew.

Their gazes connected.

Her heart fluttered, and a sense of connection flowed through her. She looked away and suppressed her response. She had asked him to meet her after church so she could tell him what she'd learned from Ellen. But she couldn't deny how many times she'd thought of him or how much she'd looked forward to seeing him again. He had given no hint that he was aware of her growing feelings, or what he thought of her, but she determined to watch him closely and see if he might reveal anything.

He lifted his hat and smiled. "Good morning, Lillian."

She returned a smile and greeted him.

"How is your sister? And Ellen? I hope they're improving."

"They are both much better. They're sharing a room now, and that has lifted Serena's spirits. She has been reading aloud to Ellen and teaching her how to embroider."

"I'm glad to hear it." He paused and glanced around the churchyard, then he took a step closer.

Her breath caught, and she looked up at him.

"You said in your note that you had something to tell me?"

Her hopes deflated. "Yes. Now that Ellen is recovering, we encouraged her to tell us more about her life and how she ended up at the Golden Swan."

His eyes lit with interest. "What did she say?"

"She told us she was in the care of the Foundling Hospital before she was taken there."

His eyebrows rose. "When was this?"

"She's nine years old and had been at the Golden Swan for about a year."

"Did she say who took her there?"

Lillian nodded. "It was Mr. Parker—that same man who locked the gate when we went there looking for the cleaning woman."

Matthew paused, considering her words. "I suspected that man might be involved. What else did she say?"

Lillian relayed the other details Ellen had shared with her. "Now that we have Ellen's story and know Mr. Parker was behind her abduction, and possibly Alice's as well, do you think it's time we go to the police?"

Matthew rubbed his jaw. "I went to the police station yesterday, hoping for an update on their investigation of the missing girls from White Chapel. They had nothing to report."

"But if Ellen told them what happened to her, surely they'd see the connection to my niece's disappearance and force Mr. Parker to tell them where she was taken."

"No one can force him to admit what he's done. If they question him, he'll just deny it."

Lillian sighed. "Then what can we do?"

Matthew thought for a moment, then his frown eased. "I'll speak to Mr. Parker and see what I can learn."

"I thought you said he wouldn't admit what he's done."

"Yes, but if I go there posing as someone who wants to buy a girl—"

Lillian gasped. "You think Mr. Parker is actually selling the girls?"

"That's the only reason I can imagine he'd take such a risk."

A shiver raced down Lillian's arms. "That's terrible. The man must have no conscience."

"Oh, he has a conscience, but I'm sure he stopped listening to it long ago."

"What will you say?"

"I'll use what I learned at the Golden Swan and what Ellen told us. That should make my story credible. I'll try to get him talking and see what I can learn."

She gripped her reticule, fighting off a growing sense of uneasiness. "Matthew, this sounds awfully dangerous."

"Don't worry. I can take care of myself."

"But if he discovers who you really are and why you're there, there's no telling what he might do."

Matthew reached for her hand. "I'll be careful. I promise."

She held tight to his warm, strong hand, and gratefulness flooded her heart. "Thank you, Matthew. What can I do to help?"

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, then let go. "I'd like to speak to Ellen and learn as much as possible from her before I have to face Mr. Parker."

"Would you like to have lunch with us today? I have my carriage here." It was a bold invitation. She had invited other friends from church to join her for lunch, but not other single men. "That is, if you don't have other plans."

He sent her a pleased smile. "I'm free, and I'd enjoy having lunch with you ... and speaking to Ellen, of course."

Her cheeks warmed, and she looked down, but she felt certain that didn't hide her smile.

Matthew followed Lillian, Serena, and Ellen out to the rear terrace after lunch. The view below opened to a peaceful private garden with a tall cedar tree, manicured flowerbeds, and lush green lawn—a hidden sanctuary in the middle of a bustling city.

Serena took a seat on the wicker settee to his left, glanced at Ellen, and patted the cushion beside her. The girl sat next to Serena and leaned against her side.

Lillian motioned to a wicker chair with a plump cushion. "Please have a seat, Matthew."

"Thank you." He lowered himself into the chair, and she sat across from him. He glanced around the terrace and then back at Lillian. "It must be nice to have a quiet spot like this where you can retreat from the world."

Lillian surveyed the garden with a winsome expression. "It is a peaceful spot. I especially love to come out here to hear the birds and watch the sun set."

He nodded, then shifted his gaze to Ellen. The swelling in her face had gone down, and most of her bruises had faded from purple to light blue and green. Lillian had asked him to wait until after their meal to question Ellen. She wanted the girl to feel comfortable with him rather than being ambushed with questions from someone she barely knew. He'd agreed to wait and had tried to engage her in conversation during the meal. But now he was eager to speak to her and learn as much as possible.

He gentled his voice. "Ellen, Mrs. Freemont told me you lived at the Foundling Hospital before you were sent to work at the Golden Swan."

Ellen shot an apprehensive glance at Lillian.

"It's all right, dear. Mr. McGivern is a trusted friend. You may speak openly with him."

Ellen slowly nodded. "Yes, sir. I was at the Foundling Hospital until I turned eight."

"I understand Mr. Parker is the one who took you to the Golden Swan?"

A shadow crossed her face at the mention of the man's name, and her lips turned down. "Yes, sir."

"What is Mr. Parker's position?"

She looked down and clasped her hands in her lap. "I don't know."

He would need to speak in simpler terms. "What does he do at the Foundling Hospital?"

She thought for a moment. "He oversees the boys, and he talks to the matron a lot. I think he orders food for the cook."

"Is he the one who finds places for the children to go out to work?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir. He found positions for us."

Matthew leaned forward. "Does he have an office there?"

"Yes, sir. Belowstairs, near the kitchen."

"Can you tell me how he looks, and how he acts toward the children?"

She bit her lip. "All the girls are afraid of him, and most of the boys are too. He has dark eyes and a big nose, but he doesn't have any hair on top of his head. Just a bushy beard and moustache."

Matthew straightened. That was a good description of the man who'd met him at the door the day he'd gone there and spoken to the matron. He recalled the man's abrupt manner and his unwillingness to let Matthew out of his sight.

Lillian leaned forward slightly. "Mr. McGivern is going to speak to Mr. Parker and try to learn where he's taken Mary. Is there anything else you can tell us that might be helpful?"

She thought for a moment. "Mary is a nice girl. I hope you find her."

Serena pressed her lips together and turned her face away.

Lillian reached over and laid her hand on Ellen's arm. "Don't worry, dear. We won't give up until we do."

He clenched his jaw. Lord, help me. I've got to find that little girl.

Ellen's gaze darted back to meet his. "Do you remember my friends, Nancy and Jane at the Golden Swan?"

He nodded, recalling their bare feet and their stained and ragged clothes.

"They don't like working there, but they've got no family. No one to help them get out."

Matthew's chest tightened. He regretted leaving them behind, but Ellen's situation had been so dire, he'd focused on helping her. But it wasn't too late to help the others. Surely, he could do something for them. "I'll speak to Reverend Howell and ask for his advice."

"They're good girls, but Mrs. Crocker makes them work real hard, and sometimes Mr. Bradbury is rough on them, like he was to me."

Sympathy filled Lillian's expression, and she sent him an imploring look, then she turned to Ellen. "We'll see what we can do."

A look of relief crossed Ellen's face. "I know they'd be grateful to get away from there."

Matthew shifted his gaze toward the garden, considering the situation. If he returned to the Golden Swan and posed as a deliveryman again, would the girls be willing to leave with him? Before he tried that idea, he'd have to find a safe place for them to stay and someone who would help them recover and secure better positions.

Lillian turned to him, and some unnamed emotion flickered in her eyes. "Would you like me to show you the garden?"

His pulse sped up. He hadn't expected to have time alone with Lillian. "Yes, I'd like that."

She turned to Serena. "Would you like to join us?"

Serena shifted her gaze from Matthew to Lillian with a slight smile. "Thank you, but I'm a bit tired. Why don't you two go ahead?"

"Very well." Lillian led him inside and down the back steps. They walked out the rear door and entered the quiet garden.

"My husband's mother was a devoted gardener," Lillian said as she started down the grass path between the curving flowerbeds. "She chose these plants so there is always something blooming from late March through mid-November."

His gaze traveled over the waves of bright spring flowers filling the beds. He'd admired flowers in public gardens and shops, but he didn't know much about them. He bent and took a closer look at the clumps of small blue flowers scattered between the taller blooms. Each stem looked like an upside-down bunch of grapes. "What do you call these?"

"Grape hyacinth." She plucked a stem and handed one to him. "They're bulb plants that come back each spring. They've always been one of my favorites."

He twirled the stem in his fingers, admiring their bright blue color and compact design.

She continued down the path, then stepped into the shade of a cedar tree and turned toward him. "Thank you for waiting until after luncheon to speak to Ellen. I appreciate your patience and the kindness you showed when you asked her those questions." The sincerity of her words filled him with pleasure.

"I'm glad you approve."

Her brown eyes glowed, and dimples creased her cheeks. "I'm grateful for all you've done for Ellen, and your willingness to speak to Reverend Howell about the other girls."

"I'm glad to see how much she's improving. Have you thought about what to do when she's fully recovered?"

"We haven't said anything to her yet, but Serena and I have spoken. We'd like her to stay here with us and attend school in the autumn."

"That's generous of you."

She glanced toward the house and lifted her eyes to the terrace. "I've lived alone in this beautiful home ever since..." Her voice faltered. "Well, for a very long time." She shifted her gaze to him. "It's time I open my door and my life to whatever the Lord has for me."

He stilled and searched her eyes. Was she speaking of Ellen and the girls from the Golden Swan, or did her words carry a deeper meaning?

Her gaze warmed and lingered, and he sensed she was offering him a new level of openness and trust.

A rush of emotion swept through him, bolstering his courage. "Lillian, your kindness as well as your brave heart and strong faith have made a deep impression on me. I've come to think of you as more than a friend, and I hope you feel the same."

Her eyes widened. "Matthew ... I ... I'm not sure what to say."

Regret punched him in the gut. What a fool he was to voice his thoughts without being more certain of her feelings. Even if their family background and social standing were equal, he was not worthy of her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed you meant—"

"Please don't apologize. I do admire you and appreciate all you've done—"

He grimaced. "You don't need to explain."

"But I do." She closed her eyes. "Let me think for a moment how to say this."

His shoulders tensed as he studied her pensive expression.

Finally, she looked up at him. "I've been a widow for eight years. John was the first man who called on me, and from that day, I knew he was the man I would marry."

Matthew clenched his jaw and steeled himself. There was no way he could ever compare to John Freemont, a wealthy business owner who had won her heart on the day they met.

"I was young, and I loved him dearly," Lillian continued. "Losing him as I did was ... very painful. And then, a short time later, I lost ... our newborn daughter." Her voice choked off, and she looked down.

He froze, struck by the pain in her voice. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.

She lifted her gaze, and tears glittered in her eyes. "Her name was Ann Marie. She only lived a few hours, but she was the most beautiful baby I've ever seen."

He longed to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but he didn't have that right. Instead, he stood attentively, ready to listen to all she had to say.

Her throat worked. "So, you see, it's difficult for me to consider opening my heart and risking that kind of loss again."

He paused, praying for the right words, then he reached for her hand. "It is a risk, but I'm not asking for a commitment—just a chance to come alongside you and see where our friendship might take us."

She thought for a moment, then met his gaze. "I appreciate your honesty. I need time to consider what you've said. I don't want to lead you on or hurt you with false hopes."

He pressed down his disappointment and offered a slow nod. "I understand. You are worth the wait ... and so much more."

A pink blush filled her cheeks, and she looked down, but her lips turned up at the corners with a trembling smile. "Thank you," she whispered.