Page 49 of Enslaved to the Seduction of a Lady
He lowered himself to the floor and sat next to Jenny with his legs tucked beneath him. He rested an elbow on the bed and looked at Jack’s drawn-in face, his papery skin. He had known Jack had been ill for a while, but he hadn’t realized how bad he had got. Luke cursed himself for his inattention, for getting too caught up in his own dramas.
“Not everything,” Jack said.
“All right,” Jenny said, stroking his forehead and smiling down at him, humoring him in his last minutes. “Tell us.”
“I was heartbroken,” he said. “Lost my wife and child. And then I saw you. With nothing and no one.”
“We know,” Luke said again. “You took pity on us and saved us, but it was all right because we saved you, too. I remember the story well from when I was a boy and you would tell us just before we went to bed each night.”
“Yes,” Jack said, closing his eyes and trying to swallow. “We saved each other.”
“And we couldn’t be more grateful, Jack,” Jenny said.
She turned to look at Luke, pleading in her eyes. She begged him, silently, to save their foster father, to breathe life back into him. But Luke could do none of those things, and so he merely looked back at her with sadness in his eyes.
“Aye,” Jack repeated. “Without you both, I would have died many years ago. You mended my broken heart.”
“I suspect the same would have become of us,” Luke said sadly, while Jenny whimpered quietly beside him. “You made us the people we are today, Jack, and we’ll always be grateful for that.”
Jack’s eyes found Luke’s, and Luke had to catch his breath to stop a sob from bubbling up.
“I am proud of you both. So very proud.”
“Don’t go, Jack,” Jenny croaked, her words twisted with tears and grief. “Don’t leave us.”
“Listen, both of you.” Jack cleared his throat, but the rattle remained, and his voice was dry and crackling. “After you came to live with me, I went in search of your mother.”
“Our mother?” Jenny asked, clearly confused.
Luke closed his eyes and wished this moment away. He had vague recollections of a useless mother, but there was no solid memory—and he didn’t want there to be. As far as he was concerned, the only family he’d ever had were Jack and Jenny.
“I haven’t told you before,” Jack said. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving.”
“We never would,” Jenny said, shaking her head.
“But now you want to tell us?” Luke asked.
He didn’t know what he wanted the answer to be. He didn’t know whether he wanted the knowledge or the option to find it.
“She’s a…” he paused, gasping for breath. Jenny clutched tighter. Luke looked away, closing his eyes tight against the tears. “She’s a lady of the night,” he said eventually.
Jenny cried out, but Luke was rendered speechless. He had known his mother was not a good sort, of course he did. But a lady of pleasure? Jack must have seen the horror on Luke’s face, for he quickly added more.
“Do not be too hard on her,” he said. “I don’t know her, but I know of many people in situations like her. More often than not, it arises out of desperation. Especially when there are little mouths to feed.”
“She could have become a maid, or… or—” Jenny looked around her, mortified.
“Jenny,” Luke said softly, looking at his poor, naïve sister. “No house would take on a woman with a newborn child and no father to be seen. You know that as well as I.”
“Her name,” Jack said, “Is Lola Reynolds. It is only fair… you know her name… in case you wish to…” he caught his breath every few words, his head lolling back and his eyes losing focus again, “wish to find her.”
“Jack,” Jenny cried again, “please, not yet. I’m not ready for you to leave us.”
“You must… follow your hearts. Always.” His breaths heaved now, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You are fighters… the both of you. Fight for… what you want.”
The rattle in his throat grew louder and he gasped for breath, his eyes widening until… until it stopped, and all was silent.
“Luke, do something,” Jenny cried, grabbing hold of her brother’s nightshirt and clutching that as tightly as she clutched Jack’s hand.
“Jenny,” he said softly, putting his hand on hers and unwinding her fingers from his shirt. “It’s too late. There’s nothing we can do now, but ensure he is held in good memory.”
“But,” her words were caught up in tears, a sob coming between each one. “I don’t… I don’t want—”
He pulled her into his chest and her tears stained his nightshirt. Her body wracked with sobs, and Luke just rocked her back and forth, there on the floor, as he stroked her hair. He squeezed his eyes shut, tighter than ever, and didn’t dare open them again for a long time.
“I know,” he said, and he did know.
He knew the pain that ripped through her, the feeling that someone had punched her in the chest and pulled her heart out, stamped on it. He knew all too well her fear of a life without the man who had given them life—if not biologically, then realistically.
“I know,” he whispered again, and he could feel her hair sticking to his dry lips, but he didn’t dare let her go for fear that they would both crumble to pieces, lost without Jack, and lost in their grief.
