Page 66 of Enslaved to the Seduction of a Lady
Chapter Twenty-Four
They made their way into a small, compact room. There was a bed in one corner, a chair in another. Opposite the door, an open fire roared, with a pot dangling on top, and the room was filled with the scent of boiled potatoes.
“You live here alone?” Luke asked.
“Feels like that sometimes, aye,” she said, her back to him as she bustled over to the table and cleared some space. “My husband died some years back, and most of my boys have grown and flown the nest—married with little ‘uns of their own. Still got me youngest ‘ere, but I barely ever see him.”
“It’s… cozy,” Luke said, looking around him.
“’Ain’t nothing much,” the lady said, “but it’s home. Now, sit. I’ve got quite a tale to tell.”
She turned back to him, arm held out to the roughly cleared table and the two rickety chairs on either side. Luke sat down tentatively, worried the wooden legs would give out under his weight, but it only groaned.
His heart hammered in his chest so hard, he feared this woman would be able to hear it.
“Got a little ale, if you want it?”
“No, thank you,” he said. “Please, I only want to find my mother.”
The woman swallowed and looked down at the table, huffing. Luke could see her trying to work out where to start, and his heart raced even faster. Whatever tale she had to tell was not a good one, he was certain enough of that.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Mrs. White. Mary, if you will. Which one are you?”
“Which one?” Luke asked, confused by her words.
“Our Lola had quite a brood in the end. No surprise, given her… way of life, if ya know what I mean.”
“Luke,” he said. “My name is Luke. I live with my sister, Jenny. We—”
He didn’t know how to continue. Mary’s eyes were soft with recognition, memory, but Luke was sure he had never seen her before. Or, at least, he didn’t remember seeing her.
“I remember you well,” Mary said. “Right pair of troublemakers.” She laughed, but it was a happy laugh. “So much energy, the pair of you.”
“I don’t remember, I’m sorry.”
“Ach!” She waved his comment away. “You were nothing but nippers. It’s no surprise. But goodness me, faces like angels but voices like demons.”
She laughed again, but Luke squirmed. As much as he enjoyed this woman’s trip down memory lane, this was not the information he was after.
“My mother, is she—”
“Passed?” Mary asked. “I’m afraid so.”
Luke nodded, not looking at her. He had suspected as much, and of course he barely knew the woman, but still the news was like a punch to the gut. He could barely breathe.
It’s too late.
“I’m sorry, lad. P’rhaps I should ‘ave broken it to you gentler, but—”
“It’s all right,” he said. “I was partly expecting it.”
She took his hand across the table. The back was soft, the skin now long slinging to the bones, but her palms were rough from work and dry from hours of washing.
“I’d like to know more about her though. Anything you know would really be wonderful.”
“Anything I know?” she laughed then, cackling loudly and throwing her head back. “Me and Lola were neighbors for all our lives. Up until she passed, anyhow.”
