August 1921

Thompson Mansion

The sheet was heavy and stuck to her naked bosom, but not even the stifling heat kept her from reaching her hand out, hoping to touch him, hoping for more before she needed to get up and begin the never ending routine. But instead her hand just drifted across damp percale.

Katy frowned and forced her eyes open. Five in the morning, according to her bedside clock. Why was Owen already up? With a sigh, she shuffled off to wash and dress in her morning uniform. The day was obviously going to be another scorcher, so she decided that if she started early she could rest later in the day when the heat and humidity would be unbearable.

These rare moments of solitude in the silent house gave her time to think as she prepared for the day. Katy frowned, thinking about the very odd wedding between Mr. Thompson and the uppity Mrs. Schroeder yesterday. No doubt she'd be even worse now that she'd convinced the man to make it legal, although Katy knew Margaret Schroeder Thompson was no better than she should be. What had bothered Katy, though, was Owen. Owen looked pained throughout the ceremony. At first Katy thought it was because he was worried she'd get ideas (and she did have ideas, she didn't plan to spend much more of her twenties stuffed into someone else's attic), but watching his face she began to doubt what was making him anxious.

Over the summer Katy had noticed...things. She didn't like how Owen would let his eyes drift over Margaret, and more than once she'd noticed Margaret looking at Owen for longer than she should have. Finally, she'd asked Owen if there was something between him and their employer's mistress.

There was one tie between the two Katy knew she couldn't compete with, and she feared that was the hold Margaret held over Owen. Katy was so young when she emigrated from Ireland that she didn't yearn for the rolling green hills in the way she knew Owen did. The way melancholy would roll over him like he was getting lost in a fog, it scared her. It scared her even more that she'd see the same in Margaret Schroeder.

Adding to the strangeness of yesterday was that very odd husband of Clara Thompson's showing up. Imagine having all of Clara's advantages and choosing that for your mate, Katy thought. Katy knew she was prettier than Clara, and also knew that if she'd been handed the advantage of being Enoch Thompson's daughter she'd have landed a much better husband. Still, although at first she thought Clara was a haughty princess when she came to the house, Katy had grown to like her during the time Emily had polio. Clara had attempted to clean the house, and had taken on the dangerous job of burning the children's belongings. Also, Clara listened to her talk about Owen like...like a friend, Katy thought. When Owen returned with Thompson from their trip Clara came up with a ruse so she and Owen could be alone for a few minutes.

It was obvious to anyone with eyes when Clara came to live in the house at the end of June that she was nursing a broken heart. Katy had assumed it was that very nice looking Jimmy Darmody (gossip said he and Clara thought of each other as siblings, but nothing other than blood would have kept her away from that, Katy knew) Clara was heartbroken over. It wasn't until Mr. Harrow showed up and took Clara right from Mr. Thompson's grasp that Katy realized who she was in love with. The haughty girl all but swooned at the sight of the man standing in her father's foyer. Not that Katy blamed her. If Owen had ever come for her like that, she'd still be recovering.

Katy was almost in the kitchen when she heard the sound of the tea kettle. The new cook, Katy assumed, but then heard familiar footsteps on the linoleum tiles of the kitchen floor. Owen. She froze on the landing, unsure why he'd be down in the kitchen at this hour.

"No, you are going to tell me what is occurring," Margaret whispered loudly enough that Katy could hear, "Richard and Jimmy come bursting in yesterday looking like the world is ending, and Enoch lets them in! Even though he said he had to spend the rest of the day closeted with his attorney Bill Fallon to prepare for the trial, he let them in! And then Mr. Rothstein called late last evening to speak about Clara. Why? You came out of Enoch's office looking like the devil himself and still wouldn't tell me what's going on."

Katy leaned against the wall, willing herself not to breathe.

"It was a difficult day. Imagine what it's like to watch the woman you love marry someone else for his money," Owen said intently.

Only placing her hand over her mouth stifled her gasp, but the two in the kitchen were far to intent in their own conversation to hear her. Katy thought she could feel her own heart break. Owen loved Margaret.

"It wasn't...I had to make things right. I had to pay for my sins and correct my mistakes," Margaret whispered.

"So marrying Thompson was a penance, like saying three hail marys?"

"Don't laugh. And don't change the subject. Tell me what is happening. The children, Owen, the children depend on Enoch surviving this."

There was silence for a moment, and then Owen spoke again. "I don't understand it, Margaret. Someone took Clara from Darmody's house. According to Darmody's kid, she was screaming. When Darmody and Harrow told Thompson yesterday, I'd have sworn to it that his heart was breaking. But once they left, he didn't show any concern. He sent me on an errand, all right, but to get a copy of Harrow's dog tags from the Armory. And now, we're going to a private asylum on the mainland."

"He threatened her, back when she left with Harrow," Margaret said in an unsteady voice. "He wouldn't, he couldn't do something to Clara, could he?"

There was no answer.

Owen finally spoke again. "The important thing is that you are well, and that we can still…"

Fear finally broke through Katy's shock, and she silently walked backwards up the stairs to the main floor and then ran to her room. Owen, betraying her with Margaret. She wanted to be sick.

Once in her room, she paced the floor. She should tell Mr. Thompson, that's what she should do, she thought and started back out her door. No, she realized, if the man was willing to harm his own daughter what might he do to her for delivering unwelcome news? What might he do to Owen, she wondered, and hated herself for caring.

And poor Clara, what had Mr. Thompson done to her? Katy's mother had brought her up on tales of the Magdalene Sisters, and Owen obviously had thought Clara was locked in the sanatorium they were going to visit. Was Clara locked in some place similar?

Katy looked around her attic room, feeling trapped herself. What she needed, Katy thought, was an out. If she helped find Clara, then wouldn't Clara and her husband feel beholden? She already knew from gossip that Clara was caring for Darmody's son. Clara would need help. Katy had eaten food Clara had tried to prepare.

God himself knew that Clara would have to be easier to work for than Margaret Schroeder. And Katy knew she couldn't stay in this house.

Katy unwound the servant's cap from her head, replacing it with her own straw boater, and proceeded to sneak out of the house. Thankfully, she thought, she'd gone with Owen to take Clara's belongings to the beach house some weeks ago. Katy set off on foot.


Darmody Beach House

Richard pulled back up to the house and stared blankly at it. Mr. White was going to look for her. Lansky and Capone had promised to ask around. He and Jimmy had gone after the Butcher, and Jimmy had dispatched him for killing Angela.

There was still no clue as to who had Clara.

It was the one thing he thought he could do for her, keep her safe. Never let her be afraid. He'd failed time and time again since he ripped her from the safety of her father's house. He and Jimmy couldn't even keep Tommy safe. It was only Clara's game that saved the boy from whatever fate befell Clara.

Whatever fate. He closed his eye, trying not to picture her hurt or screaming or worse.

"Mr. Harrow," a woman's voice called from behind him.

Richard turned quickly, his hand going to the Glock in his waistband as he went. A brunette in a gray dress and straw hat stood in the drive. He had seen her before, he thought.

"I'm Katy Campbell. I'm one of Mr. Thompson's maids? I'm here because…" Katy took a deep breath. "I'm here because I think Mr. Thompson has Clara."

Before Richard could speak, he heard the sound of Jimmy's faulty clutch coming down the street. As Jimmy got out of the car, he stared at Richard and Katy.

"This is. Katy. She works. For Nucky. She says he has Clara," Richard said as Jimmy approached, not quite believing the words even as they came out of his mouth.

"Do you know where?" Jimmy asked, trying to keep his voice level.

Richard looked over at him, hearing in Jimmy's voice that he already knew. For a moment, relief flooded him. Nucky had Clara. She was safe, her father had her…

And then he remembered Clara's father was not his own. Whatever his father's faults, he would never hurt Emma. Nucky was furious, at Jimmy's betrayal, at Clara's betrayal. By choosing him.

"In a private sanitarium on the mainland," Katy offered, subtly eyeing Jimmy. He was as handsome as everyone said, even with the limp, she thought.

"We have to call Leander," Jimmy said. "Miss Campbell, please go inside. Rich?" Jimmy motioned to the back of his car.

Both men looked through the back window of Jimmy's Ford, where Mickey Doyle's eyes looked up at them fearfully as he lay bound and gagged. There was a smell that made Jimmy groan internally. Fuck, his Ford was never going to be clean again.

"We gotta do something with him."


Windcliff Sanitarium

Clara's fingers closed around the cold metal tag. How odd, she thought. I've felt them brush against me, under the table in the darkness, under the blankets in the woods, in our bed but I've never actually touched them purposefully. Touching them felt like I would be invading something that was just Richard's.

No, that wasn't right, she thought, but she couldn't remember what wasn't right and somewhere in her mind she heard them as Richard sat them on the bedside table...

Richard, dead. Clara tried to breathe but her lungs wouldn't cooperate. For one horrible moment she thought she was going to vomit.

"How?" she managed to whisper.

"He and James were on a bootlegging run, something went wrong."

I'm so cold, Clara thought. It felt like ice water was flowing through her veins.

Clara closed her eyes against the hot tears forming. Her mind felt like a jigsaw puzzle upended from its box. Think, she commanded, and tried to feel for the right pieces in the darkness of her memory, searching for that last morning. At Richard's. No, she thought again, at the beach house.

She could feel the side of Richard's mouth warm against hers, his moustache brushing against her lips. It wasn't a very good kiss, it was hurried, he had walls up...

And with each other, they didn't, almost never. Would he have always had walls up if she hadn't come upon so unexpectedly in Jimmy's room, she wondered? It had seemed such a good idea, but then she realized what sort of business Father's associate Mr. Torrio was running and she saw that girl with her breasts hanging out and those men had leered at her and she ran into Jimmy's room and Richard was there without his mask.

She'd been a mess, unable to reach for the affable, removed version of herself she hid behind to mask her shyness and anxiety. He was there without his mask, and she'd scared him and felt badly about it, but then it hadn't mattered because he listened to her like she was a person and not a means to an end and he teased her and made her feel safe. She had thought about him from the moment he left her in front of the hotel in Chicago until she saw him again sitting on the Boardwalk looking like he was about to come out of his skin.

But he had been far away from her during that kiss because...

Because he was going to kill someone, and he always went away inside himself then.

They were standing in the kitchen. Tommy was eating. Jimmy was eating. Jimmy, downstairs in the morning. When Richard kissed her so perfunctorily Jimmy had looked up at her and put his hand over hers. Because she was scared.

Because Richard and Jimmy were going to kill...Neary, whom they had known their whole lives. Jimmy's bootlegging empire was in tatters, it's why she thought they could all make a fresh start. Richard could have his hardware store, she could write, Jimmy could go back to school…

But if Richard was dead, they couldn't do that, and how could Richard be dead when they had only been married a little over two weeks? They had so many plans, so many things to do…

"If you ever want to get out, you need to sign these papers," her father said again, but he sounded so far away, and he said so many things.

This was wrong. It was all wrong. They weren't bootlegging, and Richard wouldn't leave her, because she couldn't take it, she'd fall into the ice pit she could feel in her mind and never be warm again. She had been cold before, she didn't want to be cold again.

"Where's Jimmy?" Clara asked. Jimmy would tell her what was going on.

"Where do you think, Clara? In a ditch with your precious Richard."

Darcy had kept trying to put his hand over her breast, and she was in the hallway pushing him away when Jimmy came through the elevator and she knew something was wrong before he started talking. He was leaving, he was going to Chicago, because her father insisted and Clara was so angry because the whole reason she had to let Darcy paw at her was for Jimmy to be in Atlantic City.

"No," Clara said urgently. "You promised that if I said yes he could stay in Atlantic City but then you made him go to Chicago!"

"Clara," Nucky said, with actual concern in his voice.

Clara swallowed around the lump in her throat, trying to push away from the ice encroaching around her. That was last year, she thought. This is now. "Bootlegging?" she asked, remembering what he had said earlier.

"Yes."

There was something else she should worry about. What? Her other hand closed and she could almost feel a hot, sticky little hand grabbing at it. "Tommy?"

Nucky blinked. "He's with his grandmother. He's her concern, Clara, not yours."

Jimmy, pushing her against the floor, his face looming over hers. "Gillian hurt Jimmy," Clara whispered.

Clara closed her eyes, trying to make a picture from all the jagged pieces in her mind. Neary, not bootleggers. Her father forcing her to accept Darcy and then breaking their arrangement. Always ignoring what Gillian did to Jimmy, always ignoring what he could not make benefit him.

Richard's hand sliding the ring on her finger. Their marriage didn't benefit her father.

Jimmy committed treason. In the end, that hadn't mattered to her. Clara forced her eyes open.

What mattered to her father, really, she considered, pushing away all other thoughts.

"What papers do you want me to sign?"

Nucky's eyes narrowed. "You are taking this well."

"What papers?" she asked again, trying to keep her voice steady, trying to keep away from the emotional cliff she knew she could not let herself fall from. If she fell, she was lost. Her fingers closed tightly around the dog tags. How did her father have them?

"Sign them and you will be free," Nucky answered.

"But what are they?" Clara asked, struggling and falling to sit up. "And where is Mr. Whitlock? He's my attorney, if you want me to sign something I want him here."

The door squeaked as it opened, and heavy footsteps echoed around the linoleum floors and bare walls. "I see Miss Thompson is awake," the man said in a voice that immediately set what was left of Clara's nerves on edge.

"Mrs. Harrow," Clara corrected, knowing she had to hold onto everything she knew to be true.

"She's still delusional," Nucky snapped at the doctor.

"We were married in Elkton, someone took my rings," Clara began.

"He's a goddamn corpse, Clara!"

Clara gasped, unable to stop herself from seeing it and the world spun madly around her.

"Sign these and we can discuss getting you out of here," her father said softly. "Of course this is all very difficult for you."

"Let me see them," Clara demanded, ignoring her father's words.

He didn't hand them over.

Clara turned her head back to the doctor, focusing on what was possible. "My attorney is Leander Whitlock. He lives at 101 South Montgomery Avenue in Atlantic City. Please get him here."

"Whitlock is not our family's attorney."

"No, he's mine! I hired him…" Clara's voice drifted off, she tried to remember the difference between what was true and what was acceptable to say. Remembering she needed an ally, but also remembering she had a good reason she told everyone else…"to help me with the contract for my books. "

"Your books," Nucky scoffed and looked up at the doctor. "Clara believes she wrote two children's books."

Angela pouring her a drink the night before her first book came out. Richard buying the first copy. Tommy helping her paste stamps on a package. "More than that, now," she said softly.

"Another delusion. Your name isn't on those books, Clara."

Clara blinked. Of course her name wasn't on them. "No, because Mr. Stratemeyer…"

"You see what we're dealing with here. She's lost all basis in reality," Nucky snapped at the doctor. "Clara, are you going to sign the papers? The doctor will let you return home."

Asking for Leander wasn't helping her at the moment, Clara thought. What papers did her father want her to sign so badly?

Clara closed her eyes. "I'll sign them," she softly. "Please, I just want to go home."

The nurse came around and unbuckled her right wrist. Clara felt the cold metal of a fountain pen being placed in her right hand and the smoothness of the paper slide under it. Her hand felt heavy and odd, so it took her a moment to maneuver the pen where she wanted it, and then she snatched the paper and brought it close to her face.

Complaint for Annulment. Clara Susan Thompson, Plaintiff. Richard Harrow, Defendant.

"His middle name is Henry," Clara whispered. "His mother loved Shakespeare."

"There's no need for you to read them," Nucky snapped.

Why would she need to sign annulment papers, Clara wondered. Why would her father even want her to if Richard was…

"Why?" Clara whispered.

"I'm trying to clean up your mess," Nucky answered.

Clara shook her head from side to side, trying desperately to keep her thoughts in the proper order. "If Richard is...if he's...why do I need to sign annulment papers?"

"For once in your life, can you just do as you're told?"

"I want Mr. Whitlock to read them," Clara repeated. "I want to understand."

How the fuck had it come to this, Nucky wondered. How had Clara and Jimmy made mistake after mistake after mistake that left with him no choices but these? Clara's hair, now worn in that ridiculous bob, was plastered to her head and face. Her neck was raw and bruised from whatever the hell they'd done to her to make her cooperate. Couldn't she see how difficult this was for him? But everyone had to pay for their mistakes, and he couldn't let his love for her blind him to what must be done for his family.

Nucky closed his eyes. Jesus, he knew how foolishly stubborn she was. He should have anticipated this. He checked his watch. Damn it, he had to get to court.

"Do what you must," Nucky said to the doctor.

The nurse took the pen and papers from Clara's hand, but when she tried to take the dog tags from Clara's grasp Clara fought back and the doctor intervened.

"Miss Thompson, let go," the nurse instructed.

"Mrs. Harrow," Clara snapped back.

"Get her ready for another hydrotherapy treatment," the doctor instructed the nurse.

"No, no, please," Clara begged.

Although he tried not to hear, as Nucky opened the door to go down the stairs the last sound he heard was that of his daughter's screams.


Darmody Beach House

Leander moved carefully. The last weeks had taken their toll on him. Once more he damned Nucky Thompson to the depths of hell, damned former Sheriff Peter Lindsay for ever introducing Thompson to Louis back when Thompson was a child, and damned Louis for seeing Thompson as the replacement for the son he never thought he'd have.

"Miss Campbell, you have our gratitude for informing us where Nucky hid Clara. Please know we will make sure you are well compensated for your bravery."

"I'd also like a job," Katy said. "I can't stay at the Thompsons."

Jimmy smiled at her. "Neither Richard nor I are brave enough to hire someone for the house without Clara's okay. But I'm sure she'll like the idea."

"For now, though, we must ask you to return to the Thompsons," Leander continued, not having the mental wherewithal to consider the complicated domestic arrangements of the Darmody-Harrows.

After more reassurance Katy finally left, promising to let them know immediately if she learned anything else.

"Nucky committed her as Clara Thompson, spinster," Leander continued. "James, while perhaps this isn't the opportune moment to bring this up, this sort of behavior is exactly why I told you not to end the conspiracy against him. You were within inches of ridding us of the scourge of Thompson."

Jimmy ran his tongue along his bottom teeth. Fuck it all to hell. He had loved Nucky, he needed to fix what was broken, make amends. He looked at Richard, who stood at perfect attention, a soldier once more. Richard had told him Nucky wouldn't forgive him, and Jimmy had been prepared to endure the consequences of his action.

But Nuck had taken Clara's money and then done this? Leander was right, and that pissed Jimmy off even more.

"The good news is since Clara's married, Nucky doesn't have any standing to have her committed. Only Mr. Harrow has that sort of power over her, or if the court decides she's mentally deficient. At one o'clock there's a hearing in probate 'll need to prove the…" Leander took a deep breath. "Completeness of the marriage. You should be prepared for questions. I assume that will not be an issue?"

No one answered. "Gather up her correspondence, anything to prove Clara's soundness of mind. Other than you two, would anyone else testify on her behalf?"

Jimmy smiled at Leander. "Lady Rose Malley, daughter of the Earl of Danby. She's Clara's best friend, she's keeping Tommy in Cape May."

Of course the Thompson girl's friend was a member of the aristocracy, Leander thought with a half-smile. Jeffries would be proud of his odd little grandchild.

Richard looked down, barely hearing Leander and Jimmy's exchange. "He did this. He put her there because. She married me."

"Mr. Harrow, Nucky did this because he's been robbing his daughter blind for years," Leander said.

"He did this to punish Clara for choosing me," Jimmy said at the same time.

A very loud knock sounded at the door. Leander watched as the hands of both younger men went to their waistbands. He suddenly thought of Clara sitting in his drawing room, asking did anyone think Prohibition made the world safer.

It certainly hadn't made her world safer, Leander thought. James let in a young man in a suit so flashy and of such dubious taste, although of obviously high quality, that Leander reflected it would make Nucky jealous.

"Any word?" the man asked as he walked in.

Once more, James and Harrow shared an intense glance. "Nucky took her," Harrow finally said.

"He's locked her in an insane asylum," Jimmy added.

Leander made his excuses and left to go prepare for court.

"Fucking Thompson." Charlie said.

"Leander will get her out," Jimmy said.

Charlie was struck by Darmody's belief that the elderly man could wouldn't of pegged Darmody as a man who believed in Santa Clause.

"We got a problem, though." Jimmy continued.

"What's it?' Charlie asked.

Darmody walked him to the Ford, where Mickey Doyle still lay hog-tied in the backseat. "Can you do something with him? We can't let him talk to Nucky until all of this is done."

"You want me to watch Mickey fucking Doyle? Jesus Christ, he smells like a fucking outhouse. Darmody, you are a pain in the ass."

Doyle's big blue eyes were filled with fear above the rough gag made of his own, less than pristine, handkerchiefs.

Although, Charlie reflected as he swung into the driver's seat, Doyle bound and gagged was the best version of Doyle he had yet encountered. Did AR still have a half-million buck life insurance policy on the jerk? He should call Meyer and find out, he thought as the clutch caught. Jesus Christ, this car was a piece of shit. He'd also tell Meyer about Clara. After their meeting with Rothstein he had made it known they were to share everything they learned about Atlantic City.


Federal Court House/Thompson Mansion

Nucky walked out of court a free man. He stopped and took a deep breath. Fresh air, he thought, smelled a lot like freedom. As the humidity of the day settled over him like a blanket he allowed a moment to bask in the great pride in the way he had arranged the pieces like dominoes, and watched everything fall perfectly into place. James had taken care of Neary, and although Esther Randolph had tried to discount the signed confession it had held. Margaret marrying him removed the threat of her testimony. Eli, well, he had made a deal with his dear brother. When Eli realized exactly what Nucky was asking there had been tears in his eyes. Like those tears were going to change Nucky's plans.

And who would have guessed that it was his shoe shine man, Harlan, who held the key to neutralizing Van Alden, the relentless Prohibition agent? Who would have fucking dreamed the man had drowned another Prohibition agent in some sort of fit of religious mania in front of an entire congregation?

Ah, yes, Agent Van Alden, a man so convinced of his religious superiority that he had knocked up Lucy. Nucky spared barely a thought for his ex-mistress, nor one for Lucy's daughter, who was now in the wind with her fugitive father.

As to his own daughter, he considered? Well, the first item on his agenda was dealing with James and his little henchman. Once they were dispatched, he'd take Clara from the sanitarium and send her to Europe. A few more days in Windcliff might actually teach his intractable daughter that no one was immune from the consequences of their actions.

Margaret smiled and put her arms around him when he arrived home. Sure, he thought, he might have married her to keep her off the witness stand, but that didn't mean he wasn't looking forward to having a wife, a family. A real family, this time. And Margaret was young, they could have more children. It had been the right decision to sign his fortune, which at this point mostly consisted of land carefully collected to benefit from the upcoming road project, over to her for safe keeping while the trial loomed. But now the danger had passed. Soon he'd reap the rewards of his planning.

He'd have to replace Clara's trust fund, of course. Even after he took care of this foolish mésalliance with Harrow, she'd be twenty-five in two more years and he would, actually, like to see her married and settled. Just to someone he approved of. But after he cashed in on the land deal he'd never again have need of the money Jeffries left Clara.

Hell, he thought he'd never have need of it again after 1918 with the money he made off the war, and certainly not after he'd made a million dollars off of Rothstein in 1920. It was Clara's precious Jimmy who cut off his cash flow and made using her money a necessity. It turned out for the best that Clara had thrown over Darcy Blaine, because of course he had been forced to disclose the trust fund to the Blaine family when they were hashing out the terms of the financial arrangements for the marriage. If Clara had married Blaine, then Jeffries' money wouldn't have been available when he needed it.

For a moment he realized that Harrow had married Clara not knowing about the trust fund. No other man he dangled Clara in front of would marry her without the knowledge that they were marrying a rich woman. Harrow, he thought, must actually love her. It gave him a moment of pause before he turned back to Margaret to tell her he'd need her to sign the papers turning his fortune back over to him as soon as possible.

Eddie knocked on the door, and came inside. Nucky could see he was nervous.

"Pour the champagne! This is a day to celebrate!" Nucky instructed.

Eddie kept his hand on the doorknob, like he was ensuring a smooth escape route. "That was Mr. Fallon on the telephone. He said he just saw your name on another court docket. Atlantic County Probate Court this afternoon. For Clara's commitment hearing."

Margaret turned. Nucky looked away, not wanting to see the look on her face.

"Enoch? Please tell me you didn't?" she asked, and he could hear the pleading tone in her voice.

"I did what I had to," he said before nodding at Eddie to take Margaret out of the room.

Court

Rose Malley adjusted her hat as she made her way across the lobby of the Reading Termnal towards Jimmy Darmody.

"Did he really have her committed?" Rose asked breathlessly.

Jimmy nodded his answer.

Rose's mouth twisted and her own fury started to rise in her chest. Clara, condemned to an institution. She shuddered as she thought of the horrors she had heard went on inside their walls. What was Clara enduring?

Clara, whose biggest fear was that she would lose control of her mind the way her mother did..

"My own father certainly wasn't thrilled when I married Dennis, and did his share of raging and making threats, but he would have never…"

"Yeah, Nuck is truly one of a kind," Jimmy said, and Rose heard the despair and anger in his voice.

"Did everything work out the way you wanted?" Jimmy asked suddenly.

Rose stared straight ahead. "I love Dennis. I'm not sorry we married. But life, and marriage, is complicated."

"That it is."

Taking a deep breath, Rose asked the question that had been on her mind. "When did you meet Mr. Harrow?"

Jimmy looked over at her, surprised. "Chicago, last spring."

Now it was Rose's turn to look surprised. "You didn't meet during the war?"

"Didn't know he existed until last spring," Jimmy said again as he opened the door to Richard's Ford.

"Thank you. For coming to help," Richard said, and Rose could hear the effort it took.

She placed her hand on Richard's forearm. "Clara is my dearest friend. We've been to hell and back together, in the war. We survived boarding school together. She was there for my fight to be with Dennis. I'll always be there for her."

Jimmy lit another cigarette in the backseat. He could hear Clara's voice saying, I wasn't sitting around pouring tea and smiling at soldiers. Now Rose saying, we've been to hell and back. Had he ever once really asked Clara about her experience in Europe, other than to mock her little affair? What exactly had Clara done, other than some officer?

"How ?" Richard asked.

Rose smiled, deciding to forgo telling the poor man that the child had screamed half the night and had been found this morning sleeping under his bed. "He'll be fine as soon as we get him and Clara home."

At the courthouse, Leander stood in the corridor waiting. "Judge Nelson Johnson is overseeing the hearing. First, though, he wants to meet with all of us in chambers. He's hoping, as am I, that we can resolve this quickly."

"And Clara can come home?" Richard asked.

"Of course that's our hope," Leander replied.

Bill Fallon always tried to hold onto his cosmopolitan, blasé exterior, even though his clients had a way of trying him. Certainly none more so than Nucky fucking Thompson.

"You do realize, Nucky," Fallon said, purposefully maintaining a steady voice, "that double jeopardy did not apply this morning. Miss Randolph can refile the charges at any time. Especially, say, if your daughter or her husband or James Darmody, all of whom have knowledge of the inner workings of your affairs, decided to meet with her and share fresh details about your undertakings."

"This is a family matter, Fallon."

Tonight, Fallon thought, he'd be back in New York with a showgirl in his lap and a cold drink in his hand. He just had to see Thompson through his latest debacle, as a favor to Rothstein.

"You've materially misrepresented your daughter's life. I'm fairly certain Leander Whitlock is more than capable of proving that she is married, and therefore it was not in your power to have her committed."

The foursome who entered Judge Johnson's chambers didn't calm Fallon's nerves. An accomplished old man, two gangsters, and one society lady. God damn was Arnold going to owe him.

"Mrs. Harrow is supposed to be here," Leander began.

"We don't concede that this marriage is valid," the sniveling little lawyer for the Windcliffe said.

"Here is the marriage certificate," Leander continued, pulling the document from his attache case. "Lady Rose Malley has letters Clara wrote her after the wedding. The Harrows have been residing with Mr. Darmody. He can attest that they've been living as husband and wife. Mr. Harrow will answer any questions Your Honor may have. But where is Clara?"

"A good question." The judge turned to look at Mr. Price.

"She is being brought here now."

The judge looked at Leander's paperwork. "Everything seems to be in order. Mr. Thompson, why do you think the marriage isn't valid?"

"This is one of my daughter's silly little stunts," Nucky began.

"Clara," Rose said with inflection on the name, "does not pull silly little stunts."

The judge decided to ignore the woman's outburst. "Mr. Harrow, on the record, will you state that your marriage is valid?"

"Yes. Your Honor."

"Mr. Darmody, you will state on the record that they are residing with you, and living as a married couple?"

"Absolutely, they…"

Jimmy never finished the thought, because right then the door opened and the creaky sound of a wheeled chair being pushed across the wooden floor filled the room.

Johnson saw immediately that he was going to lose control of his chambers.

Jimmy jumped to his feet and managed to grab Richard before he got to Clara. "Wait," he directed in his friend's ear. "You gotta wait.. She's going to be okay."

Jesus Fucking Christ, what had Nucky let them do to her? She was wearing the same green skirt and striped blouse she was wearing that morning-yesterday morning, he realized-but she looked like a different person. She was strapped into the chair, which forced her legs into an odd angle. Her head lolled against her shoulder. The worst though was her neck. It looked she had been strangled.

No one caught Rose, and she was kneeling in front of Clara before anyone could stop her.

"I must insist," Price started feebly.

"Lady Malley is a nurse, and Mrs. Harrow is obviously in need of attention!" Whitlock responded.

The judge nodded.

Rose put her hands on either side of her friend's face. "Clara," she said softly.

Clara slowly opened her eyes, the light from the windows blinding her. "Rose," she said softly, relief in her voice, but the Rose saw her tense up again. "Are you real?"

"Yes, Clara. I'm real. I'm here. Richard's here, Jimmy's…"

"They said Richard, Jimmy, that they're…" Clara's voice broke. "That they were killed," she finally managed to say.

"No, Clara, no, they are here. Who said that?"

"My father, the doctors. They said Richard was in a ditch…"

"No, no he's here, darling. Take a deep breath, he'll be with you in just a moment."

Rose turned away, her hands busy unbuckling the restraints tying Clara to the chair, and took her own deep breath. How could Clara's father do such a thing?.

"Mr. Whitlock, Mr. Thompson and the doctors told her that Richard and Jimmy were dead!" Rose's dulcet tone and cultivated accent cut through the other chaos in the room and everyone else fell silent.

Bill Fallon put his hand over his face and decided he was going to need many, many drinks and many, many showgirls when he returned to New York.

He leaned over and hissed in his client's ear. "You haven't listened to me yet, Nucky, but you need to now. This has the capacity to turn into an utter disaster for you. I'm not sure why you have persisted, but you need to put an end to it. Now."

Thompson didn't say anything, he just kept staring at his daughter, but finally he nodded.

Fallon stood. "Your Honor, this is a disagreement between father and daughter that got out of hand. My client understands now that Clara is indeed married, and will withdraw the papers he signed with the court's consent."

"She is still delusional…." Price interjected.

"What's her delusion?" Leander snapped. "That she's married and her husband is alive?"

"She says she writes books but her name..."

"God's Nightgown! The girl does write books, she says it's called ghostwriting. I helped her negotiate her contract with the publisher, Your Honor," Leander rebutted.

"Mr. Whitlock, that sort of language won't be used in this court! But I agree nonetheless, and Clara Harrow will be released immediately."

There was so much going on, so many people shouting, so much movement around her that Clara wasn't sure what was happening. But she knew that it was Rose's hands finishing unbuckling the leather straps around her ankles, that Rose said that Richard and Jimmy were fine. Rose, in all the years they had known each other, had never lied to her. Her father lied all the time.

At first she thought she was dreaming, because she heard Richard's footfall, but as it got closer she tried to force her eyes open in the light and realized he was standing in front of her. She tried to take a deep breath but it felt like she had been swimming and her chest was filled with water, but her hands still reached out and ran lightly over the tweed of jacket.

His green tweed jacket, because he was real and he was here. Clara tried to stand up and felt his arms go around her as her feet refused to face the right direction. Somewhere she heard Rose giving out to some poor soul in her very best nurse voice. Clara shuddered, remembering other nurse voices and felt Richard's grasp tighten and his breath against her face.

"Clara," he whispered and she sagged against him.

"Take me away," Clara whispered, shaking from the feeling of cold that wouldn't go away.

Suddenly Jimmy was on her other side. "You look like hell," he told her with a smirk.

It was Clara's attempt to smile that reignited Jimmy's fury. Clara had looked bad when she found him at Walter Reed, but not like this. She looked destroyed.

Richard wanted to pick her up and take her away from all of these people. But he knew Clara wouldn't want more of a scene than necessary, so he got his arm around and tried walking with her.

"My legs aren't listening," Clara said.

Jimmy got on her other side and between the two of them they half-carried her from the courthouse.

Nucky silently watched them leave, Clara's little band of misfits tightly around her, his last chance at salvaging her future gone. He knew how stubborn she was. She'd never leave Harrow now, and getting rid of him was going to be more complicated.

Fallon stopped at the payphone to check in with his office before he hopped the first damn train he could get on to get away from the Thompson clan. The first message the stenographer shared was that he was supposed to call Arnold Rothstein.

"AR?" he said when he placed another call.

"Tell me everything about Thompson and his wayward children," Rothstein demanded.


Jimmy looked in the backseat where Clara was sitting in Richard's lap and he wasn't sure who was holding who more tightly. Clara was still shivering, and Richard had wrapped her in his suit jacket, but the way she was acting it was like she was feeling January instead of this miserably humid August afternoon.

"Clara do you know what happened?" Jimmy asked, ignoring the look Rose shot him.

"My father did it. He said you and Richard were…" Clara's voice caught and she couldn't continue.

"I know," Jimmy replied.

"Tommy?" Clara asked next.

"He's fine," Rose answered, which surprised her. "He's with my grandmother and Dorothy in Cape May. And I have your rings, I got them from that despicable nurse who brought you in."

"Do you know why?" Jimmy asked Clara.

Clara shook her head, unaware she hadn't answered out loud.

"Your grandfather Jeffries, he left you money, Clara. He left you most of his estate, and it was to be yours when you turned twenty-five or when you married."

Clara closed her eyes. Her grandfather, home from Arizona where he lived in the winter because of his lungs. You'll always be taken care of, Pumpkin. You'll always be the princess of this castle.

"Father said he left it to build the YMCA," Clara said, trying to think back through her life.

"Just some," Jimmy answered. "Nuck, he took your money and I guess panicked when you got married before he expected you too."

She lay her head against Richard's shoulder. "Did Grampa leave me his house?"

Fuck, Jimmy thought. Clara loved that house. "I think so, but Clara, it's all gone now."

Not the important things, Clara thought, but the thought of her grandfather's house ripped off an emotional scab.

The rest of the ride was silent. When they got to the beach house, Rose waited until Richard got Clara out of the backseat and pulled her close.

"You are going to be fine. You are going to go inside with your tall husband and let him take care of you. I'll come see you in a couple of days and we'll drink many cups of tea and we will talk about everything."

Clara tried to smile normally. "Thank you, Rose, for everything."

"Thank you. Mmm. Lady Rose," Richard said.

"I'll see you both soon."

Jimmy started in after them, but felt a hand on his forearm.

"I'm just going help him get her settled, and then I'll drive you back to Cape May."

Rose smiled at him. "She doesn't need our help right now. She needs her husband. She'll need us too, later, tomorrow, in the days ahead. But right now she just needs her husband, and you need to go get your son."