Lucy's Faith (Faith To Victory Inspirational Historical Romance 1) Read online

  She felt terribly guilty for getting ill. She knew that it wasn't her fault, but she also knew how much Mama was suffering because of it. Mama needed to be at work, keeping food on the table and coal in the heater.

  Every day Mama wasn't at work was a day when they used their hard earned savings to survive. And that would mean they got further and further away from the goal, from having enough money to get out of there.

  Lucy sat up in bed and sipped some warm water, wondering when they would ever be able to get away to lead good lives in a safe and good environment. Putting her glass down, she put her hands together and bowed her head.

  “Dear Jesus, I'm sorry to bother you for the worries of someone so small as me... But I am sure that no problem is too big or too small for your infinite Grace. Please, I know Mama's work is sinful and bad for her and brings illness into our little flock, but it's all we have until you bless me with a good job.

  “Please, Jesus, let Mama work some more and let me get well again so I don't need any care and I can look after the house like before. We don't need much, just a little food and a little coal to get us through the winter. But if Mama can't work then we can't get it.”

  Before she could finish Mama was back with a little brown bag. “Lucy, if anyone was listening we would have an answer by now.” Mama shivered as she slipped out of her coat and rubbed her pale and stiff hands together.

  “He is listening Mama, I'm sure.” Lucy smiled. “What did you get?”

  “Just some camphor oil and a bit of throat medicine.”

  “Thank you, Mama.” It was too late now to tell her she shouldn't have, to ask her to take it back and get their money back. All she could do now was be grateful that she had someone who was willing to go so far to keep her happy and well.

  But the medicine didn't work.

  The next day Lucy felt weaker than ever. Again, she prayed for some sort of help. “Dear Jesus, I am not sure what is wrong. Am I being delivered? Are you trying to get Mama to stop working? I know you have a plan for me and a path, but I can't see it. Please, give me a sign, if you can.”

  She wished she could move to write Edward a letter explaining that she was very ill, but she had no energy at all and every joint in her body ached. She was too embarrassed to ask Mama to write such a letter for her.

  Tomorrow, she told herself, tomorrow will be better. Then I will have some energy and write some letters and clean the house and make dinner.

  Tomorrow Mama will go back to work and make some money and they will both have food. Tomorrow I will look for a job of my own, any job that will take me, and make some good money so Mama can quit her terrible job.

  But tomorrow came and Lucy was delirious with pain and fever. She could hardly see and slept through most of the day. Mama fretted over her all day, finally breaking into their savings to get the doctor to visit and prescribe something.

  After he examined her, the doctor sold Mama some medicine and made an appointment for a few days later. Mama only had enough money left for their next bag of coal.

  Chapter 4 – Edward’s Anxiety

  Not getting any letters back from Lucy worried Edward.

  At first he was patient. After all, when the post was slow he often went a week or so without letters. But after the week passed he got worried. Perhaps her letter was lost in the post? But then surely she would have asked after him anyway?

  Just to be sure, he penned another letter.

  “Dearest Lucy,

  Sorry to take so long to write, but I am not sure whether you got my last letter or, if you did, whether I will receive your next one.

  I hope you are well. The snow is finally starting to fall here. Each flake is a perfect little frozen sphere and they have finally stopped melting when they hit the ground and are settling nicely.

  Soon we will be surrounded by heavy snow dunes and the gardens will be completely obscured! Don't you love the snow also? I think I remember when we were little we used to jump onto the tallest snow mounds we could find to feel our little boots sink down, down, down! How our mothers scolded us for ruining our nice shoes!

  I suppose it might still be a bit warmer for you than it is for me. But the snow will reach you too, I promise. Be sure to wrap up warm and stoke the fire properly. I wouldn't want you catching cold. Send my regards to your mother as well. I recall she never liked this weather.

  Yours truly,

  Edward.”

  He patiently waited another week, but no reply came back.

  “Why are you fretting so much?” Suzanne asked. “They are only letters. I'm sure that you will get one soon enough and then you will feel silly for worrying so much.”

  Edward nodded. “I just... I can't shake the feeling that something is terribly wrong.”

  “I know what will take your mind off it...”

  Edward rolled his eyes. “Not another date.”

  “But this time it's with Eloise,” Suzanne insisted. “Everybody likes Eloise.”

  “Then why isn't she married yet?”

  “She's a woman with standards. But I just know you will fit the bill.”

  Edward sighed. “I suppose it will take my mind off things.”

  He went upstairs to change into an evening suit as Suzanne made arrangements for Eloise’s visit. He wasn't sure why, but the more Suzanne insisted, the more he began to agree that he would be happy with a wife.

  After all, it would be nice to have someone to care for him, to have children with and enjoy the fruits of life with. But whoever Suzanne introduced him to, he always found she didn't match up to Lucy's intellect or charms.

  Eloise was no different. She was conventionally attractive. Edward would have described her as attractive to another man. But for himself... she had a sharpness to her face that he found off-putting and a way of moving and holding herself that looked like an old woman rather than a young and vibrant lady.

  And then there was her snobbishness.

  “I just think you could have paired the marble better with a darker wood, Edward.” Eloise said for what was probably the fifteenth time.

  “Mhm,” replied Edward for what was probably the thousandth time.

  “And a darker wood would also match the reds of the carpet better.” She continued.

  “Of course.” Edward was beginning to see why Eloise was unattached.

  “And it's getting draughty in here.”

  “Oh, this room is always a bit cold.” Edward sipped his whiskey.

  “Well that won't do. I'm going to catch my death in here.”

  “How about...” Edward sipped his whiskey again. “How about you go to your home, which is perfectly decorated and nice and warm, then?”

  “Well, I...” Eloise started.

  “No, no, I insist. I don't want you catching your death in here. Come back in the summer, when the room is at a better temperature for you.”

  With that, he stood up, bowed slightly in the general direction of Eloise then went out into the hallway. “Suzanne, Eloise wants to speak with you. Could you come please?”

  He then walked into his study and locked the door behind him.

  After a few minutes, he heard a knock. Going to the door, he saw it was Suzanne.

  “Must you do that with all of my friends?”

  “Do what? She said she was cold, so I asked her to go home and get warm.”

  “You know exactly what you did. Eloise was a very eligible woman.” Suzanne sighed.

  “I'm not sure she was... my type.”

  “No, your type is the sort that you never see and you can fold into an envelope when you're done talking to her.” Suzanne rolled her eyes.

  “You know that's not true.” Edward replied. “I just... I have my standards for female conversation. Lucy meets them, but I'm sure one of your suitors will too. We'll find a match for me eventually.”

  “Not at this rate. I'm pretty sure that soon the whole town will be put off you. And what then?”

  Edward shrugged. “B
eing a bachelor isn't half as bad as being a spinster.”

  “Well then, Sir, how about you return the favor and find me a husband. Do you happen to have any new friends I don’t yet know up your sleeve? I am quite ready to get married to a smart, handsome and ambitious man, dear brother.” Suzanne laughed as she left the room, confident that she already knew all of Edward’s friends and declared them all not quite right years ago.

  “I am going to pursue the matter. Maybe sign you up for one of those Mail Order Bride programs I see advertised in the paper every week!” Edward saw that Suzanne had not even bothered to slow down or pause to hear him out. “I just hope you're not as hard to please and annoying to men as your friends are,” he muttered to himself as he closed the door.

  He was still worried about the lack of response to his letters from Lucy. Sitting down at his desk he began to write her another one.

  This would be the last. If she didn't reply to this last letter, he would know she no longer desired to correspond with him.

  Chapter 5 – Slow Recovery and A Job Opening

  Lucy took several weeks to get better. Despite her condition, as the food and coal ran low Mama had to return to work, leaving her home alone, feverish, shivering and scared.

  She spent most of the day sipping warm water or a weak broth and all night wondering where Mama was and how badly Mama must be suffering to make the money they needed to live. Even through her fever she prayed every day for strength and for Mama's wellbeing and Edward's happiness. It was all she could do in her state.

  But as the fever faded and she regained her strength, Lucy felt much better about everything. Her usual optimism shone through again and she began tidying the house, washing the dishes and making Mama dinner despite her shivers and aching hands.

  One day as she bent to tidy a pile of laundry, she saw it. A letter from Edward. Then another two letters. Mama must have brought them in as Lucy was delirious and left them on the side table. They had been covered over by the clothes and forgotten. The first made her feel happy. But the second changed her mood quickly.

  “Dearest Lucy,

  I am so sorry to not hear from you. Have I done something to upset you? Are you well?

  I have been considering marriage as of late. Funny, isn't it? I had never thought of it before, but now it seems ever more pressing. I blame my sister and her incessant arranged dates.

  So, of my seemingly innumerable prospects, which would you choose?

  The slop who must bathe once a decade?

  The insufferable snob who thinks the world revolves around her?

  Or perhaps the dog-loving lunatic who refuses to go anywhere without at least three living accessories?

  I'm sure you can understand my dilemma and see the humor of my predicament. I will update you should my sister find someone who is not absolutely terrible.

  On the other hand, if you do not reply I will assume you no longer wish to speak to me and I will unfortunately have to make the decision on my own.

  Yours truly,

  Edward.”

  Lucy was shocked. She was shocked that Edward was almost cutting her off and she was shocked that he was seriously contemplating marriage.

  She knew that Edward's sister was forever trying to marry him off but deep down, she had always assumed it would never happen. Edward was always so adamant he wasn't ready to marry yet, that his future wife would have to be perfect.

  And, deep down, it hurt her to realize that she actually saw him as her Edward. Of course he wouldn't marry anyone else. He was hers. But he wasn't. And now he was seriously considering marriage to another woman. What made it worse was how easily he was about to let her go. Did she mean that little to him, that hardly a month of silence was enough to chase him away?

  Lucy didn't know what to do.

  She couldn't just tell a man she hadn't seen since childhood that he couldn't marry, that he belonged to her. That was ridiculous. Especially considering how dishonest she had been with him. He knew hardly a thing about her actual situation. And if he did, would he want to get to know her more, or would this exchange of letters be over for good?

  Lucy sat down and penned a reply. It kept coming out wrong and she kept starting over. But the least she could do was get him to write to her again.

  “My dear Edward,

  I am terribly sorry not to have written. I have been in bed with a mighty fever for the last several weeks and unable to do anything whatsoever, not even write. I am sorry to have worried you like this.

  I can assure you that I am now regaining my strength and that by the time you receive this I will be much better. I would not wish this illness on my worst enemy, though I am sure there is some meaning to it all. I know God has a plan for me.

  How lucky of you, to have a sister so eager to pair you with a good woman. I know her intentions are good. Do not scorn her for her efforts. I am sure that soon you will be married and be happy.

  The snow is not yet settling here. Please, tell me how it looks up there right now?

  Lucy.”

  That was all she could do, all she could say.

  Searching the house for a stamp, she realized there were none and that Mama would have to take the letter to the post office. So Lucy left the letter on the table to wait as she made herself busy cooking and cleaning.

  When Mama got home she was upset to find Lucy moving around while she was still so unwell. “Now, now, I'm back now, Lucy. You get back to bed. I'll finish up here.” She insisted on guiding Lucy back into bed before stoking the little heater and stirring the stew.

  “I'm feeling much better Mama, honest.” Lucy tried again to reassure her. “Thanks to your efforts and God's grace I'll soon be able to care for you again.”

  Mama fell silent. Lucy could sense a tension in the air and didn't want to break it, for fear something terrible was brewing under the peaceful surface of their home. Mama just quietly went about her tasks, the expression on her face cold and stern and contemplating.

  Finally, she landed on the letter. “What's this?”

  “I got a few letters from Edward whilst I was ill. I decided to write back to him. I couldn't find a stamp, so I left it for you to post, whenever you may have the time.”

  Mama nodded and turned the letter over in her hand, glancing at the pile of scrunched paper balls in the corner. “Lucy, we don't have enough money for these letters anymore.”

  “What happened to the savings?”

  “It is all gone, Lucy. I spent them on medicine, the doctor and coal and food.”

  Lucy swallowed hard. “But those were a year's savings.”

  “Well, I suppose we have to try and save more next year.” Mama brought over a cold cloth and pressed its cooling softness against Lucy’s forehead, face and neck.

  “I'll... I'll go and get a job.” Lucy said, remembering the contents of her prayers.

  “Well, there is a job that is open right now...” Mama sighed.

  “What job?” Lucy felt excited. Finally a job that would take a young, uneducated woman raised in a brothel like her?

  “There is an opening at the club.” Mama replied. “You're old enough now. You can come and work with me.”

  Lucy froze. “No... I could never...”

  “It might be our only option.”

  Lucy's heart sank. How could she possibly work at a brothel? How could she lose herself to so many men, when all she wanted was to marry well and live a normal, Godly life?

  Chapter 6 – Proposal Thwarted

  Edward was pleasantly surprised to find a letter from Lucy in the post a few mornings after. He had already given up hope on getting another one. But opening it, his happiness gave way to worry. Lucy had been seriously ill. He wasn't sure why, but he hadn't considered that option at all. Now it made much more sense.

  Edward sat back in his armchair, letter in hand, unable to read his newspaper or reply to the letter, just shocked and confused at the emotions running through him.

  His
body felt numb. His heart ached with the knowledge that Lucy had been in such grave danger. He could have lost her, without ever knowing why. And over an illness that probably lasted much longer than necessary because of living conditions she never felt she could tell him about.

  His head started to pound thinking about how little he knew of Lucy’s real life. Did she even have money for proper food? Maybe they lived where they did because they didn’t have the money to do any better.

  When Suzanne walked in, she immediately noticed the pale tone to Edward's face and the general aura of helplessness around him.

  “What's the matter? What's happened?”

  “It's Lucy.” Was all he could manage.

  “You've finally got a response back?” Suzanne sighed with relief. “I would be shocked too. What does she say?”

  “She has been gravely ill. And I almost stopped writing, not knowing she was suffering, ill.”

  Suzanne looked concerned momentarily. “Ill? I hope she's better now.”

  Edward nodded. “At least she says so. I just... I feel sort of, in some way, responsible. I'm not sure you would understand...”

  “Of course I do.” Suzanne insisted, dropping herself down into the large plush settee opposite him in the most unladylike manner possible. “When my friends are ill, I expect them to tell me and feel bad when I find out.”

  “It's just... knowing the terrible area where they live, I guess I should have got them out of there sooner.”

  “Now, now,” Suzanne interrupted with a scowl on her face, “they live there because they choose to live there. If they wanted to live somewhere better, don't you think they would?”

  Edward sighed. “I'm not sure. I'm unsure how much money they have right now. I never asked.”

  “There are plenty of poor people living moral lives in nasty places, but there are also plenty of poor people living in cottages in the country. If they wanted to live away from the nasty part of town, I'm sure they would.”