Free In the Lord's Embrace by Killian McRae

 
    Four hundred dollars. Three hundred pounds. A diamond-pendent necklace that had once been his mother’s. A broach inlaid with mother-of-pearl. A silk sachet with a trinket contained of conflicted recollections , and a pair of gold cufflinks.
     
    The last item surprised August a little, and he eyed Jefferson curiously as he rolled the st emmed, auric stubs around in his hand.
     
    “Every bit helps, I suppose,” Jefferson said with a shrug . “I only wish we ha d more, but it was all we could— ”
     
    “It’s more than enough,” August interrupted, realizing his voice was a bit gruff.
     
    It was more than he, Maeve and Augusta needed to make an escape, and by no measure a small amount of money and wealth by common standards — b ut how long c ould it last? If they were humble with acquisitions, perh aps a year or two? But again, they would be starting from scratch, leaving Boston and heading west for a fate unknown wit h nothing but the clothes on their backs, Maeve’ s stil l the ones given to her by Owen b efore the fire had consumed him, and t he love in their hearts.
     
    The love August hoped was in their hearts. The events of the last few days had flown by in a dizzying array of recollected intention s and unfulfilled obligati ons. August loved Maeve still—h e knew this with all his heart — but since they had made way through the haze hove ring over a flame-gripped Boston and to the countryside, he couldn’ t help but notice her fluctuating physiognomy . Her eyes had always been the lo oking glass to her soul; the years apart had not changed that fact. But her soul… Therein lie the change. She carried with her now a shame, the origins of which she would not belay herself but in the quickest of moments. One instant , they would catch each other’s gazes, and a love nearly tangible from it s strength would flow between them . The next, August beheld her grimace, o vercome with guilt or reprieve, he guessed, as Maeve glance d ba ck to the slumbering form of their daughter with a worrisome observation.
     
    Maeve was still uncertain; she had carried over her habit of keeping bound the confusion of he r own soul rather than burden him with frailty of her commitment to their uncertain future. August firmly resolved him self in dedication to relieving her an xieties and assuring her of his commitment to perfecting whatever measure of harmony and bliss this world would allow them . They had sacrificed too much and gotten in return from life too little to accept anything less.
     
    “August , are you certain there is no other way?”
     
    Caroline Schand ’s fr etful expression nearly broke her brother. August could not help his concern, though had no doubt that Jefferson , being an honorabl e and upright man, would never let Caroline suffer or bear unnecessary hardship, but he worried nonetheless.   W ould he never see his darling baby sister again? Was Caroline strong enough to play the role now required of her? Could she be the head of the Grayson family , estate and holdings, and still be t he sweet, compassionate sibling for whom he had sacrificed so much ?
     
    August steadied him self to reas sure her and , in the process, Maeve of the necessity of their escape . “We are too well k nown in England and in Ireland. Maeve and I will find no refuge in any land under the crown . Perhaps, if we are fortunate, they will presume we were both lost in the fire. But a re you certain, Caroline , that you can commit this falsehood?”
     
    S he nodded solemnly. “How can I do less , when the alternative is Maeve’s execution, and perhaps my brother’s as well ? ”
     
    Jefferson added, “We shall use the scandal to our advantage. They believe Maeve mistreated Goosie ; we will si mply present it as long-lingering illness brought on by neglect and abuse, and say that in the sea journey , she was overtaken by fever . Time will forget, August. People are fickle with scandal, and the end of one only