Mistress of Scandal (Greentree Sisters 3)

The door to Amy’s bedchamber was hardly closed when Francesca burst into apologies. But Amy held up her hand. “Stop. I don’t want to hear what happened, or what you did. I make it a practice not to interfere in my daughters’ private lives. It was something I learned after Vivianna came to London, and then Marietta ran off with that dreadful man. I cannot stop any of you following your hearts, so I simply don’t try. It is a question of retaining my sanity.”

Francesca began to laugh. She sank down on the bed and found that after a moment there were tears running down her cheeks, and she wasn’t surewhether she was still laughing, or crying, but whatever the case, she felt better for the release of emotion.

She loved him. She loved Sebastian Thorne, or the Earl of Worthorne, or whoever he was. She had done the most foolish thing the daughter of a courtesan could do—fall in love.

“Mama, you are a very wise woman,” she said at last, when she had mopped her cheeks and blown her nose.

Amy looked melancholy. “Do you know, sometimes I think I am a very stupid woman. Or at least a very blind woman when it comes to those I love best.” She seemed to be debating whether to disclose a secret. “Helen spoke to me not long ago about something that I never for a moment suspected, and it has been troubling me ever since.”

“Tell me what she said,” Francesca said quietly, kicking off her slippers and making herself comfortable against the pillows.

Amy lifted her arms and began to unpin the wisp of lace decorating her fair hair. “I probably shouldn’t, but I know you will be discreet, Francesca. You are good at keeping secrets, my dear.”

“I try.” I have plenty of my own.

“Helen told me that, years ago, after she had married Toby, she had an affair. I was living in Yorkshire at the time, and I knew nothing of it. The man loved her, or so she believes, but they decided there was no future for them and they had to part. Probably the fact that William found out had something to do with that,” she added wryly. “But that’s not the worst of it. After the man had left the scene, never to return, Helen discovered that she was with child. ‘Forbidden fruit of an adulterous union,’ was what William called it. Toby was more forgiving, but he refused to take on the child as his own. Helen went away to have the baby, and they said she was staying with friends. Later on she returned to London as if nothing had happened. The child was adopted by some acquaintance of William’s, and he refused to speak of the matter again, so she never knew what became of it. But it was a girl. She held her baby for a few moments after it was born, and she knows it was a little girl.”

Francesca lay in her comfortable nest of pillows and grieved for her aunt. “Poor Helen. So when we were shopping, and she was saying that she wished she had a daughter of her own…?”

“She does have one, but one she’s never met. When it was all over, William and Toby swore her to silence, and she’s been too frightened to break her promise until now. The girl would be twenty-one, and I think Helen would love to find her, but she’s afraid to make the attempt.”

“Afraid of William? Mama, that man has much to answer for.”

“There is that, but I think she is more afraid that if she did find her, her daughter would hate her for abandoning her. She has seen enough of abandoned daughters to know it is not all plain sailing when they are reunited with their mother,” she said with a smile at Francesca.

“And perhaps her daughter won’t have been as lucky in her adopted home as we were,” Francesca added, smiling back. “Yes, I see.”

They were quiet, contemplating the mystery of Helen and her child, separated at birth, and whether they would ever find each other again. At last Francesca heaved a sigh and climbed off the bed. She found her slippers and, carrying them in her hand, made her way to the door. She paused and looked back.

“Thank you, Mama,” she said softly.

Amy, brushing her hair with long, slow strokes, met her eyes in the mirror. “What for, my dear?”

“Just thank you.”

Aphrodite lay in Jemmy’s arms, completely happy and content. He stroked her back, fingers light and pleasing, and smiled into her eyes. “Do you remember when we met after all those years apart?” he asked.

She laughed softly. “Of course I remember. I will remember it always. You gave me myself back again.”

“I wish sometimes I’d done something sooner. It feels as if I wasted years…”

“No, my love, do not have regrets. They are useless. We found each other, that is all that matters. We are together now.”

He kissed the end of her nose.

“There’s still one person needs sending to hell.”

“Yes.” She sighed. “But I believe that now Mrs. Slater and her spies are in jail, he will think twice before he hurts anyone ever again.”

“What if he’s driven to it?”

“How so? I have not spoken out, and Francesca cannot. He is safe. Perhaps he will be content with that.”

“I thought you wanted him named?” Jemmy said.

“Maybe it is better to let sleeping monsters sleep on undisturbed.”

“Do you really believe that?” he demanded, sitting up.