The Harlot's Daughter

Prelude Part 2

Margaret leaned against the window casing looking down at Brutus for the third evening in a row. Standing in the glow of the street lantern across the lane from the duke's townhouse, Brutus appeared to be keeping watch; his navy jerkin pulled up snugly around his chin, a knitted cap pulled down low on his crown. Margaret watched the smoke from his cheroot wafting upward from where he leaned against the iron post, and she could see his baby blue eyes when she closed her own.

Throughout the previous fortnight, Margaret worked until late in the evenings, lending a much-needed hand in the kitchen after tidying bed and bath chambers throughout the day. The Duke of Marlborough was presently in residence with his duchess and their son, Will, their daughter, Arianna, and her husband Drake, the Earl of Trent, providing plenty of work to keep the household staff busy. The family had come together to stay at the duke's townhouse, needing to be in town for a masquerade ball the King was hosting in the Duchess' honor. 

The kitchen work always passed pleasantly, all who were employed by the duke, Margaret found to be friendly and kind. Margaret's young babe, Daniel, kicked his bare feet and waved his tiny, chubby arms from his pallet in an out of the way spot where he was propped up, content to watch the bustling activity going on around him. The babe chirped, cooed and chortled, joining exuberantly in the conversations of the kitchen staff. Once in a while the babe would suck in a big breath and let out an exclamation of sorts, causing all to pause in their work and laugh at him. He would receive comments, such as 'Well, my goodness, little man, what is it ye 'ave ta say that is so important ye must holler?' Often, Daniel was addressed directly, for most were charmed with the novelty of having a babe in the home.

Once her kitchen work was completed, Margaret retired to her rooms to bathe and feed Daniel before lying him down for the night. Having spent the evening in the kitchen with his mother, once his tiny tummy was full, the babe slept soundly. Leaving Daniel to sleep in her bed, Margaret enjoyed sitting in the window seat and gazing at the stars while she prayed that God would watch over her and those she cared for.

The first evening Brutus appeared outside of the townhouse was unsettling, Margaret had gasped softly upon recognizing him, drawing herself back from the glass, positioning herself where she could watch him, but he could not see her. Margaret had watched him covertly that first night, unable to take her eyes away, yet, not quite bold enough to make her presence known. The captain had stood watch for close to an hour, she surmised, then he looked up to the third story; where she cowered; before walking away with his chin tucked deeply into his coat. The next night had been the same, Margaret sat watching him while he stood watching the house.

Margaret wished things were different. She wanted to be worthy of the captain and his attention. However, she could not let him know that she was coming to care for him because he deserved so much better than a woman such as she.

Tonight was proving more difficult, Margaret tore her eyes from the captain reluctantly and bowed her head, raising a hand to worry the skin around the bed of her nail. She tried not to think of the hellacious things that had been done to her, however, as always, they were right there waiting in the forefront of her mind. Margaret shook her head, believing if Brutus knew the extent of depravity she had been forced to participate in he would not want her any longer.

Through no fault of her own, Margaret bore the scars of heinous abuse. She could never have any more children, and she wasn't even sure if she could bear being with a man intimately no matter how kind or beautiful he may be.

Born from an illicit affair, Margaret was too young to understand her mother's plight when her benefactor was forced to leave the country. Ostracized from her family for allowing a foreigner to soil her, Margaret's mother turned to prostitution as a means to support herself and her child. Using the drug as an escape, Margaret's mother allowed her hovel to become a den of opium smoke and illicit sex. A few years passed in this manner until a man came along to persuade her that Margaret would be better off if she were to be sent to an orphanage. Though Margaret's mother agonized over the thought of giving up her child, his constant badgering finally won out, and he was allowed to take Margaret away so she could have a chance at a better life. In her drug-induced state, Margaret's mother believed the man's lies, though Margaret did not go to an orphanage, being given instead to a wretched man in exchange for a debt owed him.  

Margaret was but five years old when the big, blonde, blue-eyed Marcus Bailey, took charge of her. Put on a ship and carried far away from her mother, Margaret was forced to depend on the man for every morsel of food, every drink of water. Bailey used her youth and naivete to do reprehensible things; acts she would never have thought of if not groomed by a madman. In her plight, Margaret was not alone; there were many other souls Bailey abused on his island of torture, the victims coming together to support one another in the fight for senility despite their tyrannical leader. And while Margaret had been young, unknowing and unwilling, she did not now see herself as others saw her, she only saw a filthy creature, one who could never be washed clean enough. Margaret knew of God, and that He supposedly cared for her; but the tragedy was, Margaret could not love herself. She could not see herself as others saw her, for; as Brutus had once thought; her mirror was cracked and distorted.

Bailey was dead and gone now, and though he could not use nor abuse her any longer, the past did not simply fade away.

Out of kindness, the duke and duchess took Margaret and her babe in, His Grace assuring Margaret that she was welcome in their home for as long as she wanted to stay. Margaret was very grateful to both the Duke and his Duchess, but she could not impose on them indefinitely, and she had no idea where else she would go or what she should do. 

Margaret did have one offer presently. The Captain, Brutus Marks, had offered her a position aboard his ship a fortnight ago; wanting her to join his crew, to help care for the souls they saved. Every eve since she'd received the offer, once Daniel was in bed, Margaret had taken to her spot in the cushioned alcove to think and weigh things through. Knowing she needed to do what was best for Daniel, she could not fathom that raising him on a pirate ship would be in his best interest.

Margaret gazed down at Brutus, knowing he awaited her answer, though, as of yet, she still was not sure what her answer would be. Knowing she could not live beholden to the kindness of the duke forever, Margaret had considered asking her new friend Betsy, if she thought Margaret could work at the orphanage when it was completed. That was one place where she could see herself working while also having Daniel with her. However, she was finding Brutus to be extremely hard to ignore, especially with him standing out on the lane outside the house every night.

It was Betsy who had brought the missive from Captain Marks, and it was Betsy who also encouraged her to help the captain in his quest.

In the note, Captain Marks had named wages; he had assured Margaret that she and Daniel would have a comfortable cabin of their own, he had also stressed how very much he could use her help. She would be the only woman aboard, and her presence, he insisted, would be of utmost importance to nurture the children that they saved. Margaret was torn. She feared the unknown, and this was a big unknown, and yet, she did feel drawn to the idea, wishing someone had come along to save her all those years ago. 

Betsy had gone on to tell Margaret other things. Of Brutus, his character, his upstanding family; those were the things that were now weighing on Margaret's mind. Knowing she could trust Brutus, she must now decide if she could trust herself as well. 

She watched him take the last drag from the cheroot. Tossing it down, he crushed the coal and put his hands in his pockets, seeming about to go. Margaret leaned forward, wanting to see him as he walked away, wanting to keep sight of him for just as long as she could. Her heart being pulled out into the lane, Margaret unconsciously brought her hand to the pane, the cold glass signaling her error. Gazing at the whole of the man under the lantern light, noticing the defeated set to his shoulders; she had not noticed that his gaze had pinpointed her window until he straightened abruptly. Margaret gave him his prize, her hand remained fixed on the pane as she moved closer until her silhouette now visible with the candlelight that shone in the room behind her. It was the idea that she would be able to help rescue others that swayed her; so she told herself; setting her hands to the window sash and drawing the window up quietly. Margaret leaned out as Brutus Marks approached the house.

 Stopping on the walk in front of the townhouse, Brutus' baby blues had not left Margaret for one second since her hand first touched the glass.

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

And away we go....