"I raise up my voice-not so I can shout but so that those without a voice can be heard...we cannot succeed when half of us are held back." Malala Yousafzai
---
Chapter Twenty
Luke sat opposite Mr George Lumley in one of the most clinical, melancholy rooms he had ever seen in his life.
The faded wallpaper was peeling at the edges, and was exposing rancid looking plaster. The furniture, what little of it there was, was tired and old. The chair on which Luke sat felt as though it might break at any moment.
The window was slightly ajar, and wafting in was one of the most rancid smells that Luke had ever come across. He felt the need to cover his mouth, though he thought it might be rude seeing as this was Mr Lumley's place of work.
The debtors' prison was a large, square brick building with an overall greyness about it. There were bars on the few windows and the faces that had been looking down from them were sallow and sad.
Mr Lumley leant back in his chair and squared his shoulders as he stared at Luke. Luke got the feeling that Mr Lumley enjoyed feeling superior. He supposed that presiding over a population of poor sods who could not pay their debts could indeed make a make an unimportant man feel good about himself.
"I am told you wish to talk to me about Julian Dawson. Is that correct, Captain Cassidy?" he asked haughtily.
Luke nodded. "Yes. He is my father-in-law."
Mr Lumley merely arched a brow. "What an unfortunate relation," he muttered under his breath as he flipped through the pages of the large ledger that sat in the centre of his desk. "Ah, here are Mr Dawson's records," he remarked, pointing out the information with his index finger.
"When was Mr Dawson imprisoned?" Luke asked calmly, out of curiosity.
"Eighteen months ago," replied Mr Lumley.
Luke had been away at sea at the time, but he wondered if Isabella or her sisters had known about this. Then, he supposed, Mrs Dawson had always been a proud woman. He doubted whether she would advertise the fact that her husband was in prison.
"Mr Dawson had defaulted on loans to half a dozen creditors," continued Mr Lumley. "What happens when one lives beyond one's means," he said condescendingly. "Mr Dawson owed upwards of five thousand pounds at the time of his incarceration. Mr Dawson does labouring work within the prison and his wife is currently making payments towards his release."
Luke nearly swallowed his tongue when he heard the amount. How on earth had they allowed themselves to get into so much debt! It was his understanding that upon marrying Annaliese, Matthew had cleared their debt up until that point. That meant that since the marriage, they had participated in some ridiculous spending.
But poverty seemed to humanise Mrs Dawson. It had changed her, and Luke wanted to repay her, and start afresh with his family. This was the right thing to do.
"What does his currently owe?" pressed Luke.
Mr Lumley looked over his ledger once again. "Four thousand, eight hundred and ninety pounds, and a penny," he read.
Luke sucked in a sharp breath as he pulled out his family's chequebook from the inside of his coat pocket. Matthew had been unsure of Luke's plan to begin with, but this was such an absurd amount of money.
The Dawsons' had now been bailed out of financial trouble twice now. Luke was certain there would not be a third time.
Luke quickly signed away a fortune and handed the cheque over to Mr Lumley. Luke then fished a penny out of his pocket and flicked it into Mr Lumley's lap. "Mr Dawson's release, if you please," he prompted.
Startled, Mr Lumley placed the penny on his desk and stook up. Luke did the same. "Ordinarily we would not issue a release before the funds had been released by the bank, however, owing to your family's good name, I suppose we will make an exception." Mr Lumley tapped the keys attached to his belt. "Wait here."
There was no clock in Mr Lumley's office, so he was unsure of how much time had passed, but Luke was positive it was close to an hour before Mr Lumley returned with a rather dishevelled looking old man.
Luke could recall the brief encounters that he had had with Mr Dawson a few years ago. He had always been impeccably dressed with not a single silver hair out of place.
He had changed incredibly, just as Mrs Dawson had. Mr Dawson was now very thin. His cheekbones were very pronounced, and his wrists, which were hanging below the cuffs of his ill-fitting shirt, were thin and bony. His skin was grey and sallow, and his brown eyes were lifeless. His clothing, which were indeed ill-fitting, were dirty, patched, and horrible.
"You are in luck, Mr Dawson," Mr Lumley practically cackled. "Your son-in-law, here, has decided to be your guardian angel."
"Son-in-law?" Mr Dawson peered closely at Luke. There was recognition in his eyes. "Captain Cassidy?"
"You do not know each other?" remarked Mr Lumley.
"I married Isabella before I left for war," confessed Luke. He suddenly felt a sense of guilt. This was his wife's father and he had never asked permission. The man did not know anything about his daughters anymore. Mrs Dawson, after all, had only just learned she had a grandson. Were they allowed newspapers in prison? Did he know about Isabella?
Mr Dawson nodded, understanding. "Well, I always knew she liked you," he murmured.
Luke smiled slightly.
"Your son-in-law has just cleared your debt, Mr Dawson. That is why you have been brought to my office. It seems that you are free to go." Mr Lumley leant back on his chair and placed his hands on his stomach.
The look of shock was evident on Mr Dawson's face. It was quickly replaced by relief. "I ... I thank you, sir," he stammered.
Luke motioned for them to leave without saying anything. He did not farewell Mr Lumley. The two men moved quickly, both eager to be beyond the walls of the debtors' prison.
It was odd. The smell was not so foul once clear of the wrought iron gate.
"My motives were not entirely selfless, Mr Dawson," confessed Luke.
"Oh?"
"Isabella is very ill." The words tasted like acid on his tongue. Luke knew that at some point those words, and what they meant, were going to devastate him. Like most men, he was going to deal with his emotions when he absolutely had to. He was absolutely positive that it would involve copious amounts of hard liquor.
Luke could see the shock and fear in Mr Dawson's eyes. In a very much abridged version of the story, Luke told Mr Dawson exactly what had happened to the Cassidy family over the past few months. In the end, Jamie had been recovered by his wife, Isabella was still very ill in Bath, and Mary had vanished.
"I want to go to Bath," Mr Dawson said decidedly.
"You and me both," agreed Luke.
The reunion was short-lived, though it was clear that poverty had also improved Mr and Mrs Dawson's marriage, seeing as they were very happy to see one another. Though getting to Bath as quickly as possible was the priority.
Luke rode in a carriage was Matthew and Commander Lockwood. Eleanor rode with her parents. It was obvious that Matthew was not comfortable with Eleanor being near her parents for such a long period of time but it was not the time for that argument.
Jamie sat beside Luke in the carriage, resting his head on Luke's thigh and dozing with the subtle jolts of the carriage along the country roads.
Luke wondered what their life might have been like had he never brought Mary home with him, had Mary never been involved in his treatment in the first place. He might well have had the eye surgery before he had left London the first time. He might have gone home completely healthy.
He and Isabella would have picked up right where they had left off three years earlier.
Luke dozed off remembering just what they had planned.
Luke stared at his new wife in awe. They were both lying in bed, sharing the same pillow, their faces only inches apart.
How was it possible for Isabella to look even more beautiful? Her blonde hair was in disarray, but her eyes shone with hope and love. "I do not want you to go tomorrow," she whispered. Their closeness meant that Luke could feel her words on his cheek.
It was his last night in her arms before he had to leave. Only God knew when he could return to her arms. "This is a picture that I will think of for comfort on many a cold night," he whispered back. "Your hair like this, your mouth red from my kisses." He grinned as Isabella's cheeks went bright red and she turned away from him, burying her face in the pillow. Luke chuckled as he pulled her close to him. "Do not hide from me," he said softly. He pulled Isabella onto his chest. She rested her chin on her folded hands which had found their way to his breast bone. Her cheeks were still adorably red. "What does our life look like to you in ten years?" he pondered.
Isabella smiled. "War will be over," she said with certainty. "There will be peacetime and there will be no need for your services at sea."
Luke loved that she had thought of his safety first. It was nice knowing that someone this special thought of him in that way. "From your lips to God's ears," he murmured.
Isabella ducked her head again as she said, "And we shall have a family." He loved how bashful she was.
They had already picked the name of their first son on their wedding night, but Luke was going to enjoy filling up the bedrooms of their future house. He had not told Isabella, but he had already written to a vendor about an advertised estate that he had seen in the newspaper. It was a large manor house on a hundred acres of good farming land. Perhaps, when war was over, he could become a farmer. Nevertheless, it would be a good surprise for Isabella when he returned.
"How many little Cassidys are we chasing after?" he asked curiously.
Isabella looked up at him. "Enough to fill a cricket team, of course," she said teasingly.
Luke smiled wickedly. "Eleven in ten years? We are already running behind schedule, Mrs Cassidy!" he declared, before pulling his wife's lips to his.
Luke awoke with a start as the carriage jostled. It was night time, and his three companions were all asleep.
What a fantasy that had been. Luke looked down at Jamie, who was curled up peacefully on the seat next to him. "Your mother is going to be alright," he whispered. "We shall have that cricket team."
It took entirely too long to reach Isabella's hospital in Bath.
Luke did not take any notice of his surroundings after he had located the entrance to the hospital. He hoisted Jamie up into his arms and marched inside ahead of their party.
They were not a quiet party, and the noise of the new arrivals in the quiet, little hospital brought Annaliese downstairs.
"Oh, Jamie, thank God!" she cried as she met them in the little entryway. At that moment, her brown eyes flared as she realised that her parents were among the visitors. Both Mr and Mrs Dawson's eyes softened upon seeing her but Annaliese chose to ignore them. "Is he alright?" she asked Luke. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, he is fine, thanks to your mother," answered Luke, much to Annaliese's surprise. "But I will explain later. How is Isabella?" he asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer. He clung to the words of hope in Annaliese's last letter.
"She is awake," replied Annaliese softly, with no amount of enthusiasm in her voice.
Luke was utterly confused. "Why do you say it like that?" he asked fearfully.
Annaliese placed a comforting hand on Luke's forearm. "There is something you need to know, Luke."
---
I wanted to get this chapter up earlier, but it's just been one of those weeks!
Now I think this chapter will be up when most of my American friends are waking up on Election Day! To be honest, I cannot wait for this election to not be the top story on our news broadcast lol. But anyways, I have important things to preach!
Whenever an election, for whatever reason, rolls around (and we have a lot of them, hey Aussies? Haha) I always think of suffragettes.  I may sound like a broken record, but how can I not think of them? I will NEVER forget the time that my mum told me that women were once not allowed to vote, but that some special women stood up to give us the right to. I was very young, and watching Mary Poppins, and I asked her about the sash that Mrs Banks was wearing. She told me about Emily Davison, and how she threw herself in front of the King's Horse to give women the vote. She told me that when I turned 18, I had a say in what happened to my country, and those women ensured that I did.
So whenever we have an election, be it federal, state, or local, I go to the polling booths knowing exactly what it means for me to be there. It's compulsory to vote in Australia, so it really upsets me when people cast donkey votes. I know it's not compulsory to vote in America, but I implore you to. It's such a privilege to have a say, so please take it.
A hundred years ago, none of us were allowed near a polling booth. Go with pride, and cast your vote. Brave women ensured that our generation would not have to miss out on having a say.
I may sound like the cheesiest feminist, but I mean my words with all sincerity.
Have a wonderful day! I love you all x