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Do you know who this is, Miss Carlyle?
Lucy take a look at the photo Inspector Barnes slid across the table. It's a little girl, maybe four or five years old. She was missing one of her teeth, perfectly captured in the photo as she was smiling brightly at the camera. She was wearing a fancy blue dress with matching ribbon on her brown hair.
"She looks a lot like you, Lucy," George commented, as he looked closer at the photo and pointed. "Look, you even have the same smile,"
"I don't smile like that," she countered, leaning even closer to the photo. The little girl has a pretty smile, while Lucy's smile looks more like a grimace.
"You did smile like that, Luce," Lockwood chimed in, as he turned his attention to the inspector. "Is this our new case, Inspector?"
"No, Mr. Lockwood," the inspector said flatly. "And do I need to remind you that you are still grounded until your arm heals? Or should I post an agent in front of your house to ensure you behave?"
"There is no need for that, Inspector. I am very well behaved,"
The look Inspector Barnes sent Lockwood literally screamed I don't trust you one bit.
Lucy had to keep herself from laughing by biting her cheek, while George had no qualm about that and just burst out laughing.
The Inspector just sighed and muttered 'Bloody teenagers' under his breath, before he turned his attention back to Lucy. His expression was grimmer than usual.
"This is you, Miss Carlyle,"
She frowned. What? That is impossible. She didn't remember ever taking a picture like this, and while she probably didn't remember many things at that age, Lucy was pretty sure her mum and dad couldn't afford or even want to get Lucy’s picture taken like that.
"Two days ago, a request came in to compare your fingerprint with the fingerprint of a missing girl. Now this usually falls under Scotland yard jurisdiction, but because you are an agent, the responsibility falls to DEPRAC," Inspector Barnes explained, as he opened the case file on the table and pulled out a sheet of paper. "It's a match, Miss Carlyle,"
"No," she shook her head. What kind of joke is this?
"You were kidnapped, Miss Carlyle. When you are five, from Hyde Park where you play with your siblings. We still don't know how you ended up in the North. But we already took Mrs. Carlyle into custody. We will get the answer soon enough,"
"No, Inspector, you must have been mistaken. It could be wrong, fingerprints are not always accurate," she denied and abruptly stood up. Her chair made a horrible scrapping sound, "I am not kidnapped,"
"Mrs. Carlyle confessed to it, Miss Carlyle,"
This is not possible. This isn't real.
Growing up, Lucy always wondered why her mother never loved her.
There was never any affection in her mother's gaze, only cold indifference.
There was no gentleness nor warmth in her mother's touch, only pain and biting cold.
There were never any kind words coming out of her mother's mouth, only insults and scathing remarks.
But, that’s not proof she wasn’t her mum, right?
"Luce," Lockwood’s soft voice broke through her frantic thoughts. "Breath,"
Alright. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
"That's good," Lockwood said and circling his hand on her wrist, squeezing it lightly. "That's good, Luce,"
A moment later, Lucy felt herself calming down slightly.
"Now, we need your consent for the DNA test, but it's just a formality at this point, Miss-
The door of the interview room was suddenly thrown open, cutting Inspector Barnes’s explanation short.
Stood there was a beautiful middle-aged lady, looking a little winded, like she was just running all the way here, her eyes sweeping the room until they zeroed on Lucy and her eyes widened.
"Francesca, is this really you?" the lady wailed, tears were falling from her eyes, as she barreled pass George and pulled Lucy into a tight hug. The familiar smell of lilacs was wafting through Lucy's nose. "My dear Francesca,"
Francesca? Who the heck is Francesca?
"Ma'am, I'm not Francesca. My name is Lucy," she protested, trying to break free from the lady's hug. It's no use, this woman’s grip was too strong.
"Ma'am," she tried again.
At the same moment Sergeant Wade walked into the interview room, followed by a man and a woman.
“I’m sorry, Inspector,” the sergeant said, still catching her breath. “Lady Bri-
Inspector Barnes waved her apologies, lips thinning in displeasure.
"Mother, let her breath," a man in a suit, probably in his early-thirties said, his hand gently gripping his mother arm.
"Anthony is right, Violet. Let the girl breath," agreed a beautiful lady in her late twenties, her sharp gaze was strangely soothing, as she was gently gripping the lady's other arm.
"But, Anthony, Kate, she-
"I know mother, I know. But, let the poor girl breathe first," the man said, his voice hitched, as he take a look at Lucy.
Reluctantly, the lady loosened her grip on Lucy. Yet her gaze never strayed away from Lucy's face. It made Lucy uncomfortable.
“My dear Frannie,” the lady whispered and outstretched her hand toward Lucy's face.
Lucy couldn't help but flinch at that, stopping the lady's movement midway. The lady’s gaze turned concerned.
"Fr-
“Miss Carlyle, allow me to introduce you. This is your biological family,” she was never more grateful to hear the inspector’s voice in her life, “And your birth name is Francesca Bridgerton,”
Francesca Bridgerton. Francesca Bridgerton. Francesca Bridgerton.
Lucy kept repeating the name in her head, as she lay on her bed and stared at the roof above her head.
She felt... nothing. No familiarity, No sudden memories. Nothing.
And the meeting with her... family was thoroughly awkward. They kept staring at her. Lucy hates attention. She couldn't imagine how much worse it was tomorrow when she met the whole clan.
A knock on her door broke through Lucy's musings.
"Yeah," she said, as she sat up on her bed.
"Hey," Lockwood greeted, "Dinner is ready,"
"Hey," she greeted back, "I don't think I have much appetite,"
"Yeah, kinda guess that," he said and taking out the biscuit tin from where he hid it behind his back. "How about this?"
She laughed, "Come on in then,"
He smiled and sat down beside her.
"What does George have to say about this?" she asked while he opened the tin.
"Nothing,"
"Because he doesn't know about this?"
He nodded, still smiling. "Exactly like that,"
"I won't take responsibility if he finds out," she warned, and took a biscuit from the tin.
Comfortable silence descended upon them, only the sound of biscuit's crunch was heard.
"Luce," he started, "How you doing?"
"Not good actually," she confessed. "My whole life is a lie and I don't know what to feel,"
"Hey," he nudged her shoulder. "Not all lie. You are still Lucy, the stubborn, reckless, judgemental associate of Lockwood and Co, who sometimes like to use sources as accessories-
"Now you just want to make me mad," she narrowed her eyes at him, trying hard to look stern, but the twitch on her lips might gave her away.
-I'm not finished yet. You are also brave, loyal, strong. Your empathy is second to none. You are a great person, Lucy. No matter who your name was. You will always be Lucy to me," he continued, and smiling brightly at her.
"and for George," he added, as a blush bloomed on his cheeks.
She ducked her head to hide her own blush when, suddenly, there was a knock and George's voice was heard behind her door.
"Are you two finished flirting yet? Was it safe for me to come in?"
"Just come in, George!" she yelled, feeling her blush deepen, her eyes looking anywhere but Lockwood.
"Hey mates," George greeted, his hands full of magazines? "Ready for some research?"
"Research?" she asked, "What for?"
George dumped the magazine unceremoniously on the floor before answering.
"Tomorrow we are going to Aubrey Hall. Don't you think it's better for us to know what we are getting into? It is also good for Lockwood to know his future-
"George!"
An unexplainable look passed between the two before George pointed at the biscuit tin on Lucy's bed. "Give me your one rotation and I call it even,"
"Fine," Lockwood bit out, as he took a biscuit and threw it at George.
"Now, let's start with your siblings," George sat down on the floor and opened the magazine. "The eldest Anthony, then Benedict, then Colin, then Daphne-
The picture of Aubrey Hall didn't do it justice.
Even after pouring over Lockwood's trashy magazine last night, it still didn't prepare Lucy for the beauty of the house and its vastness.
As she stepped out of the car, it was like she had stepped into a fairytale castle, complete with its fairies.
Beautiful and handsome faces in pretty clothes were staring at her, as they slowly descended the steps, making Lucy feel self-conscious in her old sweater and overalls.
Only Lockwood's and George's presence behind her prevented her from bolting from there.
Violet was the one who reached Lucy first.
"My darling," Violet said, as she grabbed Lucy's hand in hers. "Thank you for coming,"
"It's me that is supposed to be thankful, Ma'am," Lucy said, giving her a grimace-like smile and pretending she didn't see the pain in Violet's eyes when she called her Ma'am. Lucy is not ready to call her mum or mama yet. She didn't even know if she would ever be ready. "Thank you for inviting me and my friends,"
"Of course, my dear," Violet smiled at Lucy and the boys, as she pat her hand gently, before pulling her along. "Now, let me introduce you to the family,"
"You have met Anthony and Kate," Violet gestured to the viscount 'call me Anthony, please' and the viscountess 'Family call me Kate'
"This is Benedict and Colin," Violet gestured to the two handsome men beside the viscount.
"Hello sister," they greeted her, their eyes looking at her intently, just like how the viscount did when he met her for the first time.
"Hello," she said simply, unsure what to say to them.
"This is Daphne and her husband, Simon," Violet gestured to the beautiful dainty woman in a blue dress and the handsome man in a casual suit beside her. The duchess and duke.
Should she curtsy or something?
Behind her, she could hear Lockwood and George introducing themselves.
"I have been waiting for this for a long time, sister," Daphne said, as she moved forward and took Lucy's hand, the one that was not occupied by Violet. Tears glistened in her eyes.
"She has been crying since yesterday, could you believe it?" Simon smiled good-naturedly at Daphne, who elbowed her husband for his comment.
"This is Eloise," Violet then gestured to the girl about her age, who was reading a book in her hand. Lucy was pretty sure this girl and George would hit it off.
"Eloise!" Violet called to the girl.
"Yes, mama?" the girl answered, yet didn't look up from her book.
"Your sister is here,"
"Which one- You!" Eloise exclaimed when she saw Lucy. "I have a question for you,"
"Did you ever stab people with your rapier?" Eloise barreled forward and asked, her hands gestured wildly.
"Eloise!" she heard several people calling the girl's name.
Lucy chuckled at the question, "Stabbing ghost, yes. But, stabbing people, never do that actually,"
"Oh," Eloise seemed deflated.
"Sorry to disappoint," Lucy said, "I could tell you story about stabbing ghost, perhaps?"
"Story?" a twin exclamation was heard, as two excited kids bounded toward Lucy, "We want to hear the story, sister,"
She heard Violet let out a fond sigh, "This is Gregory and Hyacinth,"
"Hello," she said to them both, as she was being pulled to the house by two excited kids.
They are hovering.
Ever since the introduction on the terrace, they have been revolving around her, watching her every move. Even from across the room.
It felt suffocating.
Lucy never fared well being the center of attention.
Unlike Lockwood who thrives in it, seeing how he charmed the Bridgertons or George who is seen arguing with Eloise over the Problem's theories.
"Sister, what do you like for dinner?"
"Lucy, what is your favorite food?"
Lucy felt her heart pounding rapidly.
"Would you want a tea, sister?"
Her hand felt clammy, she needed to keep a tight grip on her own hand to keep it from shaking.
"How about a tour in the garden, sister?"
"The rose is especially beautiful this time of the year, sister,"
Her breath caught in her throat. She can't do this anymore.
"Stop!" Lucy yelled.
The silence that followed was heavy and crawling on her skin.
"I - I need space," she breathed out...
... and bolted.
It could have been minutes or hours when Lucy heard a soft click on the door of the room she hid in.
"May I come in, dear?" Violet's soft voice was heard from the doorway.
Lucy nodded slowly, not taking her eyes from the floor.
"You used to hide here when you were little," Violet said, as she sat beside Lucy on the floor. "You have always been a gifted listener and I guess music always soothing you. Your father used to play records for you,"
"What if I can't be her?" Lucy asked, voicing her deepest fear. What if she can't be Francesca? What if she came to love this family only for them to realize she wasn't the Francesca that was missing and left her? What if she couldn't be the Francesca they wanted?
"What do you mean, dear?" Violet asked, turning her body toward Lucy.
"What if I can't be the Francesca you remember? What if you don't like me now?"
Lucy felt her eyes sting with tears.
"Oh my dearest," violet voice catched a little. "I will always love you no matter what, it was the same as your brothers and sisters. The only thing we want from you is for you to be happy and healthy,"
"Besides, what is not to like about you? You are an amazing young lady. I am so proud of you,"
Slowly, tears started to fall on Lucy's cheeks.
"May I give you a hug, my dear?" Violet asked, her eyes filled with tears.
Lucy nodded and threw herself into Violet's arm and sobbed on her shoulder.
"Hush, my darling, mama is here," Violet whispered and caressed Lucy's hair. "Mama is here,"
"Mama," Lucy sobbed, feeling her mum let out a shuddering breath before tightening her arms around Lucy.
Her mum's hug was warmth, so so warmth. Lucy melted into it.
As Lucy was led by Vi- mama to the parlour, she was greeted by many guilty faces.
"Sister," they chorused, as they moved toward her.
"Children,"
Her brothers and sisters stopped midway, looking properly chastised like a little kid.
Lucy burst out laughing at that, prompting everyone to laugh.
Looking around at her brothers and sisters sweet smile, to Lockwood's warm smile, to George's wide smile, to her in-law exasperated but fond smile toward her brothers and sisters.
And to her mama's bright smile, "Welcome home, my darling,"
Yes, Lucy is home.