Delia Burch

Delia stepped quickly from the train onto the crowded platform in the hope of loosing her pursuer in the throng. She didn’t know why he hadn’t just arrested her outright, but he seemed bent upon remaining undercover, watching her every move from beneath the brim if his hat but not taking any action – yet.

Carrying her red bonnet in her hand, she received berating looks for her uncovered hair and her unladylike roughness as she pushed through the crowd. She willingly tossed decorum to the wind so that the old man who pursued her would not be able to follow her progress by watching her bobbing red bonnet in its slow retreat.

Delia no longer knew who her allies were nor where to find aid. In London she had only two choices. She could either seek a reconciliation with her late father’s estranged elder sister, Lady Nora Burch, or seek instead a reintroduction to the man whose proposal of marriage she had refused two years before, Mr. Charles Maddock. Neither option appealed to her but she was desperate. Who should she approach?

Choose the next step on Delia's path:
Approach Lady Nora Burch - go to Step 1A
Approach Mr. Charles Maddock - go to Step 1B

To follow the path you have chosen for Delia click "continue reading" below.
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Scroll to continue your chosen path for Delia.

Step 1A: Go to Lady Nora Burch
Deciding that the best course would be the person whose heart she had not crushed and deserted, she turned left toward the grand home of her aunt. Feeling that she had turned enough corners to have lost her shadow and certain that her reputation would not survive another block of hatlessness, she replaced her bonnet.

At the bell, she stated her name clearly and her business. “I am Delia Burch, here to visit my aunt. Is she at home?” The butler nodded and shuttled her directly into the parlor.

In a few minutes, she could hear her aunt’s protesting voice as she loudly descended the grand staircase. "What an hour to be visiting. Just because the sun doesn’t set until 10:30 in the summer months does not mean that you can call on a person at 9:00!”

The door opened and her aunt, in an elegant and voluminous dressing gown, entered the room. “This better be urgent, young lady, or you will be in no small amount of trouble.”

“It is, Aunt, I am sorry to come at this hour and I am sorry for the years that we have not communicated. Most of all I am sorry that you and my father were not friends when he passed, but I hope that you will honor the bonds of family and help me now as I am in greatest need.”

Lady Burch seated herself heavily in a finely upholstered chair and motioned for Delia to take a couch to her right. “Nevermind all that, it will keep, tell me your present situation and we shall see what can be done about it.”

Relief at these words washed over Delia but she did not know whether to tell her aunt the truth, which would likely lead to her immediate ejection from the house, or rather to tell an altered truth that would involve less humiliation and possibly more help. Which should she choose?

Choose the next step on Delia's path:
Tell Lady Burch the Whole Truth - go to Step 2A
Tell Lady Burch an Altered Truth - go to Step 2B

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Step 1B: Go to Mr. Charles Maddock
Deciding not to seek favor and mercy from the one person in the world that her kind-hearted father hated, she turned right in the direction of Charles Maddock’s home. Feeling that she had turned enough corners to have lost her shadow and certain that her reputation would not survive another block of hatlessness, she replaced her bonnet.

At the the Maddock’s bell, she stated her name clearly and her business. “I am Delia Burch. I am an old friend of Mr. Charles Maddock and would like to call on him if he is available. I fully comprehend the lateness of the hour, but it is a matter of some urgency.” The butler led her directly into the parlor and went upstairs to announce her. In a few moments the door to the parlor opened and Charles, looking not a day older, walked in, hat in hand. Delia was fully aware that this was the room in which she had refused him and left him that last time. She felt certain that he was aware of the same circumstance as she stood there.

She was again struck by how handsome he was and found it difficult to find her words. “Charles, I am so deeply sorry to bother you as such a late hour and with no prior communication. I hope that you know I would never do so, if it weren’t a matter of great urgency. I regret that I must beg you for your assistance and can only hope that you will put aside any grudge that you bear against me and save me from my present predicament.”

Charles, by this time can crossed the room, set down his hat and taken both of Delia’s hands in his. His eyes showed no loathing or embarrassment, just concern and love. “Delia, you know that I could never turn you away when you are in need. I am honored that you came to me. Now sit here by the fire and tell me all from the beginning, I am certain that we can make it right.”

Relief washed over Delia like a tide and she allowed herself to be led to the couch. Charles made sure she was comfortably seated and without releasing her hands, sat himself next to her.

“Charles, you are too kind, much kinder than I deserve. And you may yet choose to rescind your kindness when you have heard my tale.” He shook his head, but she did not let him speak, “Just know that I would not blame you if you did.”

Fear grabbed her heart and she realized that the likelihood of his sending her packing was much higher if she told him the truth. She could easily tell him an altered truth that might be easier for a gentleman to swallow coming from a lady but would the consequences of discovery later be too great?

Choose the next step on Delia's path:
Tell Charles the Whole Truth - go to Step 2C
Tell Charles an Altered Truth - go to Step 2D

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Step 2A: Tell Lady Burch the Whole Truth
Delia decided that it would be safest to tell the whole truth. She was a wretched liar and if she were to be found out, the consequences could be much worse than disownment today.

“Aunt, I am ashamed to have to relay the forthcoming story, but as you are all that I have left in the world to aid me, I must. Please do not judge me too harshly, as I know that my father loved you to the last and would want you to look upon me with kindness. As you know, my father and I lived in a house in Cheshire. He kept a gardener and a maid servant, a man and wife, who lived with us and were like family. They had a daughter named Magdalene after my mother who passed away just months before her birth. When my father took ill, he made myself and small Maggie to stay away while Kimpton and Clara cared for him. For their devotion, they followed him to the grave leaving Maggie alone without income and homeless. I had no reason to stay in Cheshire. So I took Maggie and moved to Norfolk to live with a dear school friend, Amy, and her husband, Harry. I told them that I was widowed and that Maggie was my daughter. I did not come to you then because of the disagreement that existed between you and my father. I also feared that you would notice that Maggie was not mine by blood and that you would separate us. I promise that I love her as a mother does her daughter and I could not bear the thought of losing her. For a year, we were happy in Norfolk, until one morning I walked in – and now Lady you must prepare yourself – upon my host, my school friend’s husband, attempting to molest my Maggie. I will not go into detail and the Lord save my soul, but I picked up the fire poker and drove it through his heart. My school friend entered to see him fail, his breeches about his ankles. She greatly mistook the scene and I could not persuade her otherwise. Maggie was inconsolable and all was chaos. I picked up Maggie and ran from the house. I hid her at the home of a kindly lady on my way to London, with money and the promise to return to retrieve her within the fortnight. These things occurred only four days ago and I am now being pursued by the authorities. I had no where else to go, Aunt, I throw myself upon your mercy.” To punctuate the final statement, Delia knelt heavily at Lady Burch’s feet and grasped her hand in supplication.

Lady Burch, far from being shocked, as Delia had expected, looked upon her nieces face with a look of calculated coldness. “So, you are a murderess. I knew that your father pampered you over much. You were raised with no boundaries and this is what has become of you.”

Delia let the words roll over her, she dared not lift her eyes for fear her aunt would see the passion these words raised in her heart. She needed her aunt to think her suppliant in order to gain the help she so needed.

“I will help you, but you must help me in return. I will give you a choice. My son, Geoffrey, you will know from childhood. He is my pride and my sole heir. Though I hand-picked his wife, Sarah, she has turned out to be a simpering, sickly woman who is not capable of bearing him children. You, however, look quite healthy. You may either lay with him and carry his son in secret to then give to them to raise as the heir to my fortune or you may kill her and I will get him a wife who is capable of carrying on the male line.”

Delia’s eyes flew wide with shock and she stood, backing away from such horrible suggestions. “Oh don’t be coy with me, child. You skewered a man with a fire poker after lying about having lain with a non-existent husband to produce a child who was in fact the gardeners spawn. I will leave you alone for 10 minutes to decide. When I return, I will have your promise to do one or the other and in return, I will promise to shield you from the authorities and allow you to not only retrieve the gardeners daughter, but keep her, provided you enact your chosen task to a successful end and do not betray me. If you tell a soul of our agreement, I will bring you down to a depth you can not even imagine and the girl with you.” Lady Burch headed for the door. “I will return in 10 minutes.”

Delia still stood in the middle of the room, shaking with shock and confusion. She had come for mercy and had instead been led to a crossroads, either path abhorrent and wrong. How could she possibly choose?

Choose the next step on Delia's path:
Bear Geoffrey's Child- go to Step 3A
Kill Geoffrey's Wife- go to Step 3B

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Step 2B: Tell Lady Burch the Altered Truth

Old fears rising within her chest, Delia realized that if her kindly father had never trusted his sister, she ought not. She decided that it was in her best interest to say as little as was necessary for the time being, in case her aunt was a diabolical as her father had said.

“Aunt, you will remember, 2 years ago when I left London to live with my ailing father in Cheshire. He kept gardener and a maid servant, a man and wife, who lived with us and were like family. They had a daughter named Magdalene after my mother who passed away just months before her birth. When my father took ill, he made myself and small Maggie to stay away while Kimpton and Clara cared for him. For their devotion, they followed him to the grave leaving Maggie alone without income and homeless. I had no reason to stay in Cheshire. So I took Maggie and moved to Norfolk to live with a dear school friend, Amy,and her husband, Harry. I told them that I was widowed and that Maggie was my daughter. Now, please don’t be too shocked, Aunt. I will say quick what I must say. There was a murder four days ago, I was found with the body and immediately fingered as the murderess. I grabbed up Maggie and ran from the place. I hid her in the home of a kindly lady on my way to London, with money and the promise to return to retrieve her within the fortnight. I am now being pursued by the authorities. I had no where else to go, Aunt, I throw myself upon your mercy.” To punctuate the final statement, Delia knelt heavily at Lady Burch’s feet and grasped her hand in supplication.

Lady Burch considered her with a cold gaze that did not at all portray the shock and worry that Delia would have expected from an aunt hearing from her niece that she was a murder suspect. Instead, she seemed to be making internal calculations.

"So, you've found yourself at my door asking for charity. Well, I have none to give. Your father had no interest in connection with our family, instead choosing a woman of low birth and no wealth as his wife and her family as his own. I have, in turn, no interest in being incriminated in a murder by a niece that had no use of me until she fell into desperation. I will not allow you to drag my name through the mud and my son, who is a prominent lawyer, can not be associated with you either."

Delia's heart fell and her eyes filled with tears. Her aunt rose from her seat looking down upon Delia, still kneeling on the floor.

"Carter! Come here!" Her butler entered swiftly. "Bring me a 5 pound note."

He left and returned in an instant with a piece of paper in his hand. Lady Burch took it from him and dropped it to the floor beside Delia. "Take this, it is more than I should give, and never return to my house. You are no family of mine. Carter, show her out."

Lady Burch exited as Carter approached a bewildered Delia. She took up the note and stood quickly, not wanting to be forcibly thrown from the house. She made her way, Carter at her heels, to the door. As she stepped across the threshhold, she turned to look back at her aunt, but before she could make eye contact, the door was shut in her face. With her head hung, she turned, took the six steps down to the street level and walked directly into the man who had been pursuing her on the train.

Terrified she tried to break away but he grabbed her arms and held her fast. "Please don't make a scene," He began, "I am not here to hurt you or to turn you in. Please just hear me out." Delia was shocked to hear his words and even moreso to hear his tone, which was kind and deeply sorrowful. He led her to a bench around the corner from her aunt's house and invited her to sit. Weak with exhaustion and the strain of her ordeal, she had no energy to resist. She looked quizzically at this aged man with sad eyes but said nothing.

He gave her a moment to breath and then began again. "I am the father of the girl Harry was married to before Amy. My daughter's name was Sonia. I know that Harry abused my girl and I believe that he was the cause of her untimely death. For three years since her death, I have watched him waiting for an opportunity to take my revenge, but I am an unhappy coward. When I heard that you had done what I have so long failed to do, I determined to follow you and if you could find no aid, to help you in what way that I may. Seeing that you were unkindly sent away from this grand house, I am guessing that now may be my moment to step in. Am I correct?"

"Sir, you have no idea how desperate my situation has become and though I ought not trust anyone, I am so wholly grateful for your offer of friendship, that I believe I would do whatever you say to secure my safety and the safety of my daughter Maggie. Can you sincerely help us?"

"I believe that I can. I may be without courage, but I am not without means. Come with me, my dear, and we will find some rooms in a hotel nearby to pass the night. Then, in the morning, we will hire a coach, retrieve your daughter, about whom you can tell me on the way, and then go to my estate in Derbyshire. No one will seek you there and if they do, I will protect you as I could not protect my poor daughter. It is my penance and your salvation. Do you accept?"

"I do, sir, whole-heartedly and with thanks from myself and Maggie. We will be the best wards and I will gladly work for my keep, as will my daughter when she is old enough."

A smile wrinkled the man's face and he patted the back of Delia's hand. "You, my dear, will not be required to work for your keep anymore than my daughter would have had she stayed with me." He stood and lifted Delia to her feet. "It will be such a pleasure to have family and a child in the house again. You have made a sad old man very happy."

THE END

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Step 2C: Tell Charles the Whole Truth

Delia decided that it would be safest to tell the whole truth. She was a wretched liar and if she were to be found out, the consequences could be much worse than Charles' anger today.

“Charles, I am so ashamed to have to relay the forthcoming story, but as I am desperately in need of aid, I must. Please do not judge me too harshly. You will remember, 2 years ago when I left London to live with my ailing father in Cheshire. He kept a gardener and a maid servant, a man and wife, who lived with us and were like family. They had a daughter named Magdalene after my mother who passed away just months before her birth. When my father took ill, he made myself and small Maggie to stay away while Kimpton and Clara cared for him. For their devotion, they followed him to the grave leaving Maggie alone without income and homeless. I had no reason to stay in Cheshire. So I took Maggie and moved to Norfolk to live with a dear school friend, Amy, and her husband, Harry. I told them that I was widowed and that Maggie was my daughter. I did not come back to you because I felt sure you could never forgive me for allowing you to grow in feelings for me and then rejecting your proposal as I did. I also feared that you would find that Maggie was not mine by blood and we would be separated. I promise that I love her as a mother does her daughter and I could not bear the thought of losing her.

For a year, we were happy in Norfolk, until one morning I walked in – and now please prepare yourself – upon my host, my school friend’s husband, attempting to molest my Maggie. I will not go into detail and the Lord save my soul, but I picked up the fire poker and drove it through his heart. My school friend entered to see him fail, his breeches about his ankles. She greatly mistook the scene and I could not persuade her otherwise. Maggie was inconsolable and all was chaos. I picked up Maggie and ran from the house. I hid her at the home of a kindly lady on my way to London, with money and the promise to return to retrieve her within the fortnight. These things occurred only four days ago and I am now being pursued by the authorities. I had no where else to go, Charles, I throw myself upon your mercy.” To punctuate her last statement she gripped his hands and looked deeply into his eyes in supplication.

Charles face was white with horror. He took his hands back from her and standing, moved to the fire. "Why, Delia, why did you have to kill him. Its unthinkable. Had you merely injured him, maimed him even to free Maggie, I could have supported you, but you sit before me a murderess!" Delia's eyes watered and she hung her head in shame.

"You know how I felt about you and for these two years those feelings have not changed, but now...now you come to me in need and tell me that you killed a man in cold blood. I am trying to enter the House of Lords. I can not be associated with this crime. I am sorry, Delia. Would that I could help you, but I can not myself or allow my family to be debased by helping a fugitive who admits herself that she committed a heinous murder. Please understand..." Charles' voice trailed off in a pained whisper.

Delia stayed where she was and considered him through her tears. She had seen him at that very fireplace two years before, standing much as he did now, broken-hearted, hope shattered. However, last time she had known that had she relented he would have turned to her and gathered her into his arms, this time she felt his resolution and knew that she would find no further help in his home. She stood and turned to the door.

"Wait." Came a sorrowful voice from the fireplace. Her heart fluttered and she turned. He held out to he a 5 pound note and the fluttered stopped abruptly. She stepped forward and took the outstretched bill. He turned back to the flames, but not before she could see the tears in his eyes. She walked from the room and out the door. With her head hung, she turned, took the six steps down to the street level and walked directly into the man who had been pursuing her on the train.

Terrified she tried to break away but he grabbed her arms and held her fast. "Please don't make a scene," He began, "I am not here to hurt you or to turn you in. Please just hear me out." Delia was shocked to hear his words and even moreso to hear his tone, which was kind and deeply sorrowful. He led her to a bench around the corner from her aunt's house and invited her to sit. Weak with exhaustion and the strain of her ordeal, she had no energy to resist. She looked quizzically at this aged man with sad eyes but said nothing.

He gave her a moment to breath and then began again. "I am the father of the girl Harry was married to before Amy. My daughter's name was Sonia. I know that Harry abused my girl and I believe that he was the cause of her untimely death. For three years since her death, I have watched him waiting for an opportunity to take my revenge, but I am an unhappy coward. When I heard that you had done what I have so long failed to do, I determined to follow you and if you could find no aid, to help you in what way that I may. Seeing that you were unkindly sent away from this grand house, I am guessing that now may be my moment to step in. Am I correct?"

"Sir, you have no idea how desperate my situation has become and though I ought not trust anyone, I am so wholly grateful for your offer of friendship, that I believe I would do whatever you say to secure my safety and the safety of my daughter Maggie. Can you sincerely help us?"

"I believe that I can. I may be without courage, but I am not without means. Come with me, my dear, and we will find some rooms in a hotel nearby to pass the night. Then, in the morning, we will hire a coach, retrieve your daughter, about whom you can tell me on the way, and then go to my estate in Derbyshire. No one will seek you there and if they do, I will protect you as I could not protect my poor daughter. It is my penance and your salvation. Do you accept?"

"I do, sir, whole-heartedly and with thanks from myself and Maggie. We will be the best wards and I will gladly work for my keep, as will my daughter when she is old enough."

A smile wrinkled the man's face and he patted the back of Delia's hand. "You, my dear, will not be required to work for your keep anymore than my daughter would have had she stayed with me." He stood and lifted Delia to her feet. "It will be such a pleasure to have family and a child in the house again. You have made a sad old man very happy."

THE END

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Step 2D: Tell Charles an Altered Truth

Old feelings rising within her chest, Delia could not support the idea of Charles knowing the truth of what she had done and hating her for it. She decided that it was in both their best interest to say and to know as little as was necessary for the time being.

“Charles, you will remember, 2 years ago when I left London to live with my ailing father in Cheshire. He kept gardener and a maid servant, a man and wife, who lived with us and were like family. They had a daughter named Magdalene after my mother who passed away just months before her birth. When my father took ill, he made myself and small Maggie to stay away while Kimpton and Clara cared for him. For their devotion, they followed him to the grave leaving Maggie alone without income and homeless. I had no reason to stay in Cheshire. So I took Maggie and moved to Norfolk to live with a dear school friend and her husband. I told them that I was widowed and that Maggie was my daughter. Now, please don’t be too shocked. I will say quick what I must say. There was a murder four days ago, I was found with the body and immediately fingered as the murderess. I grabbed up Maggie and ran from the place. I hid her in the home of a kindly lady on my way to London, with money and the promise to return to retrieve her within the fortnight. I am now being pursued by the authorities. I had no where else to go, Charles, I throw myself upon your mercy.” To punctuate her last statement she gripped his hands and looked deeply into his eyes in supplication.

“Of course you are not a murderer, how could anyone think such a thing. Let them find you here, we will convince them.”

“No, Charles, we can not let them find me. The victim’s wife, my dear school friend, herself is convinced of my guilt. I have no way to prove my innocence. They found me at the scene covered in the victim’s blood. I could not win that battle. I would be imprisoned or worse and Maggie would be alone and penniless. I love her like my own. I can not let that happen. Oh please, Charles, I know that this is horribly unfair, but you must hide me and Maggie somehow.”

“Delia, you can not honestly intend to run forever.”

“I have nothing and no one, if you will help me, I will take on whatever identity we can devise and live out my life with another name, if it will keep Maggie safe with me.”

“I see that your devotion to those you love has not lessened one bit from that of the girl I knew two years ago.”

She knew that he referred to her choosing her father over him. “I am sorry, Charles, for any pain I caused you. If it is any consolation, I ought to have married you and brought father here, like you said. Had I done that, I would not be in my present situation.”

“You needn’t say so. Such choices are never kind. But to the affairs of today... What are we to do? I can only see two options. I have some income, but not enough to keep you to the station you are accustomed in a home of your own. You will have to find employment. I could either hire you as a maid servant in my house, though we would have to change your appearance, because my mother would most certainly recognize you, or we can send you abroad with some small funds and a position in the house of one of our connections.”

“Thank you, Charles, you are so good. I am happy to work for the benefit of your protection. Which do you think the safer and better option for Maggie and, equally as important, which would put you out the least?”

“Do not worry about me, neither option would put me out, and as for Maggie, you must be the judge of her condition and what would be the best choice for her. I only have reliable connections in France. So you must decide between exile in my kitchen in a position significantly beneath your station or exile in a French kitchen in a very similar and possibly lowlier condition though farther from the present danger."

Charles looked at the door to the room. "Delia, I left my mother in the drawing room when I came down. To avoid her entering here, I best go upstairs and tell her you were an old friend who has gone and see her off to bed. I will return in half and hour. Think it over. By the morning we will have our plan.” Charles, who had never released her hands, pressed them firmly, bowed his head in chivalrous deference and left the room.

Delia heard his steps retreating up the stairs and rejoiced in her good sense to come to him for help. She was well aware how much he had loved her, and she, for her part, had loved him too, but not enough to choose him over her father in his need. Had she only known. But, like Charles said, she could not dwell on decisions past, she had a decision before her. Should she stay in England as a maid in Charles’ house or run to France?

Choose the next step on Delia's path:
Stay as a maid in Charles' house - go to Step 3C
Run to France - go to Step 3D

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Step 3A: Bear Geoffrey's Child

Delia was in agony. She knew that there was no escape now that her aunt knew what she had done. Were she to leave the house, she had no doubt Lady Burch would have no scruple in allowing her to be caught, imprisoned and Maggie sent to an orphanage. She could not choose to kill her cousin’s wife. She had not yet slept a moment without the vision of Harry’s red blood covering his shirt and spurting from his shocked mouth. She would have to bear her cousin’s child. She wept at her plight, in spite of herself. How, when five days ago all had been joyously well, could she have suddenly come to this?

Lady Burch was true to her word. In 10 minutes she was back and ready for her answer.

“Aunt,” Delia began, she had composed herself and determined to purport herself respectfully, even if her aunt insisted on debasing her to the depth of imagination. “I have made my decision. I will carry Geoffrey’s child.”

Lady Burch’s countenance raised in a grimacing smile. “ However,” Delia continued and Lady Burch’s eyes narrowed again in suspicion. “How can I know that I will be able to become pregnant and, if I can, that the child will be a boy?”

“I have considered this and have decided that this shall be our pact. You will lay with Geoffrey every night until you become pregnant. If, at the end of a year, you are not with child, you will help me find and secure another infant to place in the role. I would much prefer, however, that the child be of our noble blood and not taken from a wench on the street. If you do become pregnant, but the child is a girl, you will become pregnant again until it is a boy.”

Delia could barely speak. “You ask too much.” She whispered.

“Well, you were given another option, my dear, you may be done with this business much quicker if you will just kill my daughter-in-law straight out.”

“I can not.”

“Then we are agreed.”

Delia breathed deeply and conjured an image of Maggie as she willed her lips to form the words. “We are agreed.”

Lady Burch held out her hand and Delia took it from the tips of the fingers for the slightest instant as though it were poisoned. Her aunt laughed as her squeamishness.

“So you decided that you are not a murderess after all, did you. I suppose it is somewhat better to be a whore.” Lady Burch left the room and Delia sank on to the sofa.

True to her word, Lady Burch called her son from the country, insisting that his wife remain. When he arrived, Lady Burch called him immediately into her study to acquaint him with the arrangement she had made in his favor. She did not tell her son that Delia was his relation. She said only that she had found a woman of noble blood to bear him a son where his wife could not.

Delia listened through the wall as he ineptly tried to argue and hoped for her own sake that he was more potent in other areas than in his resistance to his mother. It was barely 10 minutes before he acquiesced and allowed himself to be led into the bedroom where she sat. She fought the bile that rose in her throat upon seeing him and his self-righteous mother behind him.

Delia had been dressed in a white dressing gown, her hair curled and left flowing over her shoulders. Lady Burch even supervised the application of rouge on her cheeks, saying if her son had to sleep with a whore, he might as well enjoy it.

For a moment, Delia feared that Lady Burch intended to stay to observe the occasion, but was relieved at least to see her instead push her son violently into the room and then shut the door behind him.

Days turned into weeks as Delia waited in her harem prison feeling more and more each night like Scheherazade. Geoffrey liked to talk to her and she, keeping the fundamentals of her personal story from him, passed the nights by telling him stories of Cheshire and Norfolk. She didn’t hate him, which was at least one saving grace, though she had to fight panic anew each night before he came to her door.

Lady Burch had, as she promised, sent for Maggie, who spent her days with Delia and her nights in the chamber of the gentle parlor maid, Lita. Delia, in her rare moments alone, prayed fervently for God to forgive her terrible sin and give her a son so that she and Maggie might be released from their dissolute captivity and move to the remote cottage and handsome income she had been promised upon the completion of her task.

Lady Burch’s favorite pastime was to apprise Delia of the attempts of the police to discover her whereabouts and bring her to justice. Fear of incarceration and probable execution helped Delia to avoid thinking of the fate of the poor child she was attempting to conceive. If she thought of her son being raised by the devilish Lady Burch, her heart began to race, her muscles clenched and she felt her mind begin to spiral out of control. She could not allow herself to lose her wits. So she focused on Maggie’s daily schooling and kept a tight rein on her thoughts.

By the end of the third month, it was clear that Delia was pregnant. Lady Burch was triumphant. She immediately ordered Delia to bed and sent Maggie and Lita away in secret where she promised that Delia could join them as soon as she had produced a male child. She was intent that Delia should experience no stimulation during the whole of her pregnancy.

Delia was locked in her room and told to sleep. She was fed six times a day and watched until she completed her meals. Without Maggie, she was not able to hold back the tide of her depression and anxiety. By the fourth month of her pregnancy, Delia had all but lost touch with reality. Her muscles had atrophied and would no longer hold her. Her will to live was hanging by a thread.

Geoffrey, who despite his insipid character, had grown to care for her, watched in horror as she failed. Lady Burch, however, was certain that all Delia’s energy was going to make a strong baby boy and would not hear her son’s pleas to allow Delia to walk about the west wing, open the window in her room or even read.

In her 17th week of pregnancy and 29th week of captivity, Delia had began to bleed. Lady Burch called the doctor but there was nothing to be done. Delia had neither the strength nor will to fight for her own life nor that of the infant. As she lay dying she whispered the name Maggie over and over, tears streaming down her face.

At the last, a horrified Geoffrey, shook her awake and grabbed her face in both of his hands. He looked into her eyes, willing what was left of her mind to hear him. “Delia, I know that you have been sorely used by my mother and myself. Please forgive me for my part in it. I promise to you that I will not allow this crime to stand. I will care for Maggie, provide for her, educate her and see that she is cared for in perpetuity.” Upon hearing these words, Delia expired with a deep sign.

Geoffrey closed his eyes and touched his forehead to Delia’s as the blood drained from her face. Then he stood, rounding on his mother. “Woman, you are no longer my mother. My fear of you has kept me weak, like ill-use weakened poor Delia. I will no longer stand for it. I am the head of this household and you will depart from my sight forthwith and forever. I hearby, in front of God and these witnesses, disown you. You will go to live with Carter in the cottage that you prepared for this departed soul. You will live out your days there with no company from mine or anyone. I will raise Maggie as my own with my wife who shall know the whole truth of these proceedings and, may she forgive me, will decide whether she can stand to continue in my company. If you or anyone in this room speaks to another about what has happened here, it will be the worse for them.”

Geoffrey saw to it that Lady Burch was on her way with Carter to northern Cumbria that very evening. He ordered the servants around the house with a strength of will none had ever before seen in him. After Delia’s funeral, he then left for his home where he acquainted his wife with all that had happened and introduced Maggie as their new daughter. Sarah, was shocked by all that she heard and appalled by Geoffrey’s part in it but his transformation could not have been more complete. She found that she who had experienced the power of Lady Burch’s influence could, in time, forgive his frailty and learn to live with the man that he had become. She adored Maggie and Maggie, in turn learned to love them both, eventually forgetting the sorrows of her first three years of life, in favor of many years of joy and plenty.

THE END

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Step 3B: Kill Geoffrey's Wife

Delia was in agony. She knew that there was no escape now that her aunt knew what she had done. Were she to leave the house, she had no doubt Lady Burch would have no scruple in allowing her to be caught, imprisoned and Maggie sent to an orphanage. She could not choose to bear her cousin’s child. How could she allow a child of her own to be raised by her wretched aunt who had, by the mere suggestion, showed that she had no moral compass. She hated to consider murdering again. She had not yet slept a moment without the vision of Harry’s red blood covering his shirt and spurting from his shocked mouth. She wept at her plight, in spite of herself. How, when five days ago all had been joyously well, could she have suddenly come to this?

Lady Burch was true to her word. In 10 minutes she was back and ready for her answer.

“Aunt,” Delia began, she had composed herself and determined to purport herself respectfully, even if her aunt insisted on debasing her to the depth of imagination. “I have made my decision. I will kill Geoffrey’s wife.”

Lady Burch’s countenance raised in a grimacing smile. “ However,” Delia continued and Lady Burch’s eyes narrowed again in suspicion. “You must swear that if I do this, you will not only protect us, myself and Maggie, from the consequences of this crime but the consequences of my initial crime, as well.”

“I will handle everything. You will be given a cottage in a beautiful and remote part of the country with a more than adequate living in perpetuity for yourself and the girl. No one will search for you there and if they do, I will vouch for you.” Lady Burch grimaced happily, clapped her hands and turned to leave the room. “What an excellent turn of events!” She exclaimed. “I will send for Geoffrey!” With a sly backward glance at Delia she said, “Carter will show you to your room.”

Over the next few days, Lady Burch took to discussing at length over tea the best poisons for undetected murder. She explained, “I have decided on arsenic. It is easy to come by, easy to administer and, if done right, untraceable. Don’t blanch, you silly girl, it is very common to poison a relative. It’s almost romantic. Think of all your predecessors, The Medici’s, The Borgia’s...” Her voice trailed off as she drank her tea.

When Geoffrey and Sarah arrived, Lady Burch treated Sarah with such graciousness one would have thought her the favored daughter, though Sarah accepted the over-care with obvious suspicion.

That evening, when Delia retired to her room she found a box on her bed with the word “Tonight” written on it. Inside she found hot water, tea, a dainty pink teapot with two tea cups to match, a strainer, and a vile of arsenic. Now Delia understood why Lady Burch had asked Sarah so loudly whether she liked her room, specifying that it was the northernmost in the West Wing with a large bronze knob and a fabulous view of the park because it was in the corner of the front of the house.

Delia took the box, without touching its contents and tiptoed out of her room and down the hall to Sarah’s door. When she arrived, she tried the knob and found it locked. She knocked and received no answer. Quietly, she announced herself, “Sarah, I know that you must be there. Its Delia, please let me in. I brought tea.”

Minutes passed and Delia was about to leave when the lock clicked and the door was slowly opened. Sarah stood behind it, shielding her nightgown from the sight of the hallway. Delia slipped in, set the box on the side table and sat down with a smile on the edge of the bed.

“We hardly had a chance to talk at dinner,” She began, “Lady Burch was intent upon relating at such length the superiority of the view from your room. Please, do come sit down and let’s get to know one another.”

Sarah stayed by the door, unmoving, and seemingly unbreathing. “I am very tired and I would like best to be allowed to go to bed, if you don’t mind.” Sarah’s voice came in a whisper and her hands began to visibly shake.

“Sarah,” Delia tried again, “You needn’t fear me. I am here in friendship.”

“Are you?” Sarah’s voice came harsher now. “Don’t say you are my friend,” Her eyes grew wilder and she wrung her hands. “I know what you have come here to do. Do you think me daft? Did you know that Lady Burch has tried to end my life three times before? You are nothing new to me. You are, however, going to benefit from the attempts of the first three. I have decided to stop fighting the inevitable. I can not live like this anymore, nightly avoiding my husband’s advances in order not to bring a child into such a wretched household and daily avoiding company and exercise in order not to be murdered by the assassins of my mother-in-law. At least you are different. The others tried to put me on a dangerous horse, or to break my neck out-right. You, she sends in friendship.” Her voice was, by now, filled with rancor and bitterness. Delia was silent in shock. “So,” Sarah walked to the bed and sat down next to Delia, “what is in the box?”

“Arsenic.” Delia said looking at her hands, then looked up at Sarah’s now stoic face and grasped her shoulders, “But I wasn’t going to use it!” Sarah’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. “I brought it here in the box just as Lady Burch left it because I planned to tell you of Lady Burch’s plan. Since she recruited me, I have been thinking of how to get us both out of this situation. Look,” she ran to the box and brought it back to the bed. “She gave me pink tea cups to use to poison you.”

Sarah began to laugh, “Of course, if a feral steed, a fall down the stairs and a carving knife don’t do the trick, than send a pink cup of arsenic.”

Delia smiled in spite of herself. “I am sorry for your position; maybe if I tell you mine, we can put our heads together and find ours means of mutual escape.” Delia then related her story and the choice Lady Burch had put to her. After hearing Delia’s account with empathy but not surprise, Sarah told the tale of her own high birth, sheltered youth, whirlwind marriage and final decent into her present hell. Lady Burch had made Sarah a prisoner to her marriage bed, cutting her off from her family and friends by false correspondences and accounts of world travel. Sarah boasted that it had been no common amount of cunning that had kept her from conceiving for two long years, while kept as a slave to her husband and house. By the end of the night, the women were fast friends and their plan was laid out.

In the morning, the maid came into Sarah’s chamber to find Sarah’s white and lifeless body lying on the bed and Delia’s corpse crumpled on the floor. Her screams brought the whole house in minutes. Lady Burch, upon finding that not only Sarah, but Delia as well, was dead, had such trouble hiding her elation that she had to excuse herself to another room, in a feinted fit, and jump with joy until the need had passed. She knew that pinning the murder/suicide on Delia would be nothing at all and when she had “recovered” asked that the police immediately be called to investigate. The police were prompt in arriving. Not wanting any interference in their investigation, the officers asked that all those not dead, remove themselves from the room while they worked.

As soon as the room was emptied and the door shut, Delia and Sarah rose smiling, wiping white powder from their arms and faces. The police were shocked to see the dead rise, but to their credit, did not cry out. Delia was the first to speak.

“Officers, as you see we are not dead, but just pretending. We must beg your protection, sirs, as the woman of the house, Lady Nora Burch, is intent upon our demise. We only pretended to give her what she so wanted, in order that we could speak to you. We have been prisoners in her devilish care with no means to call for aid.”

The officers’ chivalry was thus applied to by two lovely ladies in need, and just as the girls had suspected, the men happily rose to the occasion. By the end of their audience, the officers had agreed to remove the girls from the house under sheets so that none would suspect, as well as to contact and solicit the presence of Sarah’s father, Sir Huttingdon, to attend to his dead daughter’s body in London.

Sir Huttingdon arrived with haste and upon seeing his daughter alive knelt at her feet weeping. Sarah was then able to tell him all that had passed, including the attempts on her life, and finally to credit Delia with her rescue. Delia, for her part, told him, with Sarah’s support, the whole circumstance of her encounter with Harry, her flight with Maggie and the choices she had been given by Lady Burch. Sir Huttindon was appalled by the tale and, as Sarah had promised, held Delia not at fault in the least. He immediately asked for and was granted an audience with the London police commissioner wherein he laid out the facts as he had heard them, along with 2000 pounds – a donation to the police station.

Lady Burch was arrested at once, along with her accomplices in the attempts on Sarah’s life. They needed not be much persuaded to finger her in the crimes as the mastermind. She was thrown quickly into prison and her money passed to her son, who, though he escaped legal censure due to his ignorance of the proceedings, did not escape social censure and was all but exiled to his home in the country. Sarah, Delia and Sir Huttingdon left London immediately for Norfolk to retrieve Maggie, paying the woman twice what Delia had promised, and hurried home to Huttingdon Manor. The happy conspirators were there the best of friends and Maggie, who quickly forgot the trials of her former life, grew up privileged and carefree.

THE END


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Step 3C: Stay as a Maid in Charles' House

It took Delia only a moment to decide that she wanted to stay in Charles’ house with him. She felt certain that he could and would protect her and Maggie. She knew that as his maid, she could nevermore hope to become his wife, but that time had passed. Her choices could not be undone. She would settle now to bake him bread in eternal gratitude.

As soon as Charles returned she told him exactly this and thanked him with a kiss that she said she knew would be their last. Charles, however, after the kiss had ended, did not seem to sense the ending in it.

Maggie was immediately sent for and Delia was quickly placed in the service of the Maddock household. Detection by Charles’ mother was less of a problem than either of them had anticipated. Though she was somewhat confused by the sudden addition of a new scullery maid with a small daughter, she didn’t protest. By now, Charles handled all the finances and adding another maid to the household only increased their apparent worth as a family who could afford 6 servants instead of 5, and care for one of their illegitimate children besides. In society’s eyes it was tantamount to sainthood.

On principle, Lady Maddock never looked directly at Delia, whose hair had been dyed dark brown and pulled back into the braided bun and head covering worn by the servants. Her clothes and general demeanor were enough to disguise her and Lady Maddock never suspected. To be cautious, Charles introduced her to the household staff as Alice.

Delia, for her part, found that working in the kitchen suited her very well. She liked to be busy and found that the other kitchen maid was not only happy for her help but an excellent and patient teacher. Maggie thrived. As the only child in the house, she was pampered by the servants and eventually Charles’ mother as well. Lady Maddock, who could not understand why Charles had refused every eligible woman she had suggested, was happy at least to play grandmother to this unfortunate, but precious, little girl.

It was not long before Charles began to sneak to Delia’s room in the night. Delia, who had felt that this would happen, meant to repulse him, but never managed it for her latent love of him. Four months into her service at the Maddock household, she found that she was pregnant. Delia was terrified that she would be thrown from the house and berated herself for being so careless, but Charles, rather than being angry when she told him, was ecstatic and dragged her immediately before his mother.

“Mother, I have the most perfect news. You know that this maid has been working for us for four months now. We have called her Alice, but now I admit to you that is it in fact Delia, the woman who I fell in love with and whose hand I asked for over two years ago!”

Lady Maddock’s eyes grew wide and she scrutinized the woman she had not more than glanced at in four months. Delia curtsied finely and Lady Maddock’s shock showed visibly on her face.

Charles, seeing recognition in her eyes, continued, “I have been hiding her here, Mother! After she left me to care for her ailing father she fell on hard times. Her father and their household staff died of disease and Delia was left with their daughter Maggie, who I know you have grown to love. Delia then went to seek refuge with a friend whose husband was subsequently murdered. Delia became a suspect because she was found at the scene, though she was trying only to save his life after finding him expiring. Pursued by the authorities, who wouldn’t believe her innocence, she ran to me and I hid her in our kitchen!” Charles was so obviously pleased with himself that Delia could not help but smile. However, Lady Maddock had not yet changed her expression of surprised bewilderment.

Charles left Delia’s side now and went to his mother, kneeling before her and placing his hands over hers in her lap. “Mother, our love has grown again and I want to marry Delia. She is of noble birth. She is worthy and she is carrying my child. I am going to marry her and raise Maggie and the baby. We crave your consent.” He looked back at Delia to see that she nodded in agreement.

Lady Maddock stood, displacing the kneeling Charles, and walked to the fireplace, her back to the room. Charles and Delia waited, barely breathing. Without turning, Lady Maddock spoke. “I would consent, and happily, but I can not. As you said, she can not use her given name, for fear of prosecution for murder. I could have you marry the noble born, Delia Burch, but I can not have you marry the kitchen maid, Alice.”

Charles rose and walked to his mother’s side, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Mother, I love her, she loves me and we’re having a baby. There must be a way. Please.”

Lady Maddock looked over her shoulder at Delia, who hadn’t moved since the interview began. Delia, knowing that she must look very much the part of the maid, pulled the covering off of her head and shook out her long now-brown hair. “Madam, I am sorry to put you in this position, but what Charles says is true. I love him and I am carrying his child. I know that I should have accepted his proposal two years ago, but my father’s illness prevented my doing so. Now time has passed and I have been down a hard road but please understand, I am neither criminal nor maid. I am the daughter of a Lord, well-educated and trained in the mores of social grace. I will make Charles an excellent wife. I will be a good mother to Charles’ child and to my dear ward Maggie. There must be a way to introduce me in society under another name. I will be whoever you say, a widow from Malta with one daughter, a lady whose relations died in India save herself and her niece, whatever you deem best…” He voiced trailed off, her hands upturned and outstretched.

“What of your fortune, child?” Lady Maddock asked frankly.

“It will pass to a cousin on my father’s side, if I am not found, which I will not be whether here or elsewhere. There is no chance of my escaping punishment for this crime. I am, as far as I know, the only suspect and none who know the circumstances believe that I am innocent.”

“Are you innocent?” Lady Maddock’s eyes narrowed.

Delia’s stomach sank. She had lied to Charles, she would have lie to his mother. Yes, she had killed Harry. She was not innocent of the crime itself, but neither did she feel guilty for doing what she had done to save Maggie from a monster.

“Yes. I am innocent.”

“Very well.” Lady Maddock turned from the fireplace and addressed them both. “We will go to Creightondon tonight. Tomorrow you will be married within our ancestral home, with no witnesses but myself and Maggie. I will then return to London, make Charles’ apologies at our engagements, and explain that he has met, courted and wed a young heiress whose family died in India. Charles, you will come back in one month, after some of the gossip has died down, and continue then to go back and forth to conduct your business. Six months after the child is born, Delia, you may return to London with Maggie and the child and Charles, you may set up a household here, if that is your wish. There will be some talk, but it should not be insurmountable at that time.” She paused. “Charles. Delia. Do you agree?”

The faces of both parties shone with joy and they, in unison, cried, “Yes!”

“Lastly, before you go to prepare, Delia, what name will you take?”

Delia thought for a moment. “If Charles likes it, I would like to be called Clara, after Maggie’s mother, who was like a second mother to me.”

Charles smiled, “I will happily learn to call you Clara.”

“Then it is done.” Lady Maddock clapped her hands. “Charles, Clara, go pack your bags. We will leave in 1 hour.”

Charles ran to Delia-now-Clara’s side and took both of her hands. “Tomorrow we will be married, my love.”

THE END

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Step 3D: Run to France

Delia was torn. She wanted most to stay with Charles, but she knew that leaving Britain would likely be the safer choice. She also knew that if she stayed, the feelings between them would grow and be very difficult to ignore. She could not allow herself to become his mistress.

When Charles returned she related her choice. “I believe that I ought to go to France, Charles.”
His smile flattened. “I would rather stay with you, but I am afraid that I will be found and will not only be myself imprisoned or executed, but bring you and your family down in my disgrace. I can not allow that. I must go where they can not find me. At least for now.”

“You are probably right, though I will not pretend that I did not cherish the idea of having you here with me, even if disguised as a scullery maid. I will give you money and the use of my coach. Go to Norfolk and get Maggie, then on to Portsmouth and across the Channel. My school friend, Andres, lives in Marseilles. My letter, which I will send express immediately, will arrive before you. Andres owes me a great favor. I do not doubt that he will take you into his service. I will impress upon him the personal favor it will be to me to keep you and Maggie safe.”

“Thank you, Charles. It is more than I deserve and I am grateful to you for your kindness.”

Charles looked devotedly at Delia’s face, then sadness dragged his eyes to the ground. “Write to me, won’t you? I will want to know how you get on.”

“I promise.” Delia squeezed his hands, placed a lingering kiss on his cheek and followed the butler out of the room.

Exhausted, Delia and Maggie reached Marseilles four days later. True to his word, Charles had provided Delia with more than enough money to see them housed, fed and coached throughout the journey. The destination, however, was something of a shock. The manor house was in complete disrepair and looked to be a ruin as they pulled into the drive. They were ushered by an ancient woman into a parlor room though only half of the ceiling was intact and all the furniture had been moved to the side that was covered. They waited there for 2 hourswhen, at length, a portly and visibly inebriated man entered holding a sheet of paper. Delia stood, Maggie fast asleep on her shoulder.

“I see zat I am to adopt you.” He said in slurring, heavily accented English. “However, as you vil see, I barely have ze funds to care for zis house.” He waved wildly at the ceiling and teetered on weak legs. “Charles reminds me zat I owe him favor and tells me zat I must keep you safe. Well, you vil be safe in ze kitchen. Consider yourselves my servants. Bienvenue a Chateau Laratt and take a good look because you vil likely not come above stairs again.” With this he staggered out the door.

The conditions below stairs were horrid and Delia immediately regretted her decision to come to France. The walls were paper thin and the cold was bone-chilling. The work was tedious and grueling. Delia and Maggie were allowed only one meal a day, but worked from dawn until dusk under the direction of a pitiless cook who screamed at them in French and hit them, even small Maggie, when her orders were not immediately obeyed.

Three weeks into their service, Delia fell ill. Her lungs filled and she struggled to breath. None would help her to care for Maggie, who would not leave her side. The cook would not even allow them their daily meal because she said Delia and Maggie had not earned it. Instead she ate their ration herself, while the others watched hungrily.

Delia knew that she was dying and that if she did not act, Maggie would be left alone with heathens who would likely abuse her in ways than even Harry could not have invented. In desperation, Delia gave one of the serving girls her last cent to take a letter to the post. It was addressed to Charles and explained their state, begging for his assistance. Charles, when he received the letter was appalled at its contents and hasted to Marseilles. Sadly, when he arrived he found that Delia had passed away the day before and Andres was already in the middle of negotiations for the sale of Maggie to the highest bidder.

Charles roughly excused the man who was appraising Maggie’s quality and then challenged Andres to a duel. Andres accepted with a laugh and a flap of his wrist. Once outside, swords in hand, it was short work for Charles to have the drunken and over-confident Andres on the ground, adams apple beneath his sword point.

“Andres, you are a coward and a brute. I regret having ever saved you from your creditors. This is how you repay me? You allow my only love to die unattended and try to sell her daughter? I will take back the money I gave you, in full, and you will not escape my creditors. May you die in agony and rot in hell.” With this he threw down the sword, picked up Maggie and departed immediately for England.

It took Maggie some months to overcome the shock of her experience in France and the loss of Delia. Charles, likewise, was for many weeks inconsolable for having sent Delia to her death. Over time, however, they grew to feel for one another like father and daughter. Maggie was officially introduced to society as his ward and grew up with grace in his household. Charles never married, showering all his attention and money on Maggie. Neither ever forgot Delia and her sacrifice.

THE END