“I agree with you, Mariah, that the most likely candidate is this Miss Madeleine Hardwicke, Lord Slitherton’s betrothed. As you know, I am Patron of Sedleywich, and Miss Harwicke’s sister-in-law, Annabelle Luscombe, is on the committee.”
“Which makes muddying the trail all the easier.” Mariah sighed. “Miss Hardwicke looks just as I did as a young girl, Justin, with her blue-black hair and Castilian features, yet she has Robert’s strong nose.” She twisted her hands. “Surely you can trace her origins and reveal the deception? I’m going insane, Justin, unable to think of anything but the growing suspicion my beloved Robert’s evil mother retrieved my child from the Sedleywich Home for Orphans and somehow engineered that she be brought up as the child of Robert’s sister.” She covered her face with her hands and turned away, her words muffled as she continued, “Lord knows I was in no position to keep the child, I know that, but I was used, deceived, abandoned. Where was Robert when I needed him? We were so in love.”
Justin reached up and squeezed her fingers tight, then he got to his feet and put his arms around his old friend. “Hush, Mariah, you are o
verwrought,” he murmured as she clung to him and her body convulsed with tears. “Do not blame Robert. You think men are all-powerful creatures? They are equally at the mercy of women when the balance is not in their favor.” A frisson of despair speared him at the thought of Cressida and the power she wielded over him. “Love is a wonderful thing when two people are of one mind and that love is sanctioned by those around them who wield the power. Robert was not yet of age. He could do nothing in the face of his mother’s opposition.”
Mariah drew back, sniffing and attempting to smile, then she resumed her seat on the sofa while Justin returned to his desk. “You are a sensible man, Justin. Of course, I know what you say is true.”
He drummed his fingers upon the document. “But I have to tell you that another possibility has presented itself.” His smile failed to banish the rawness of her feelings. He knew desperate hope hovered beneath the surface of her restraint.
Wearily, she said, “Who is she, Justin?”
He shook his head. “It would be unfair to divulge names until her identity is confirmed.”
Mariah rose and trailed to the window.
“If you have narrowed down the list to two, and indeed you know Miss Hardwicke’s family, tell me if your investigations have concluded this at least…” She closed her eyes and the whitening of her knuckles, which matched the pallor of her face, tugged at Justin’s heartstrings. “Will she want to know me?”
Justin pondered the question. Although he was navigating these dangerous emotional waters as best he could, he felt close to being overwhelmed.
He shuffled the papers, wishing he’d been able to confide in Cressida from the start and cursing his promise to Mariah that he not breathe a word of her affairs to his wife. Cressida’s wise counsel would have helped ensure he was dealing with the matter as sensitively as possible.
God, he certainly needed a lesson in that!
His overtures to Cressida last night only proved how utterly lacking in sensitivity he was. He’d completely misread the signals she’d sent him. Had she been deliberately teasing him?
Impatiently, he pushed aside the document, desperate suddenly to leave Mariah’s sitting room. He needed to return home so he could confront Cressida and learn why she ran hot and cold with him these days.
Why had she followed him to Mrs. Plumb’s and enticed him so overtly only to reject him later?
“It is never possible to predict a person’s desire to know another,” he said, hoping to do justice to Mariah’s question while his thoughts remained with his wife. “This other young woman whose identity I discovered yesterday was removed from the orphanage the same day, and it is possible the two names were confused. I can tell you this, however—she lives in desperate poverty with a family named Potter, and your patronage would be gratefully received, I’m sure.” He hesitated, then pressed on, his voice tinged with doubt. “However, the initial subject of my inquiries—”
“You mean Madeleine Hardwicke? Please suspend the lawyer speak, Justin.”
Mariah’s voice was bleak as she crossed the room to stand before Justin, forcing him to look her in the eye. “If it is Madeleine Hardwicke, she won’t want to know me…” she drew out the pause, adding quietly, “will she?”
Taking Justin’s lack of response as confirmation for her worst fears, Mariah whispered, “Then my daughter is as lost to me as she ever was.”
She turned away, saying brokenly, “I know I am being selfish and unreasonable. Would I wish her to have spent her life in poverty? Of course not. But what can I offer…someone like that…in my current position, when I was so hoping my suspicion to be entirely off the mark and that you would discover a young woman to whom I could be of some small use?”
Insensible to his soothing answer, her agitation increased as she paced. “I just cannot believe it of Robert’s family. They wanted nothing to do with me. Robert, himself, abandoned me! Now this! Surely the risk would be too great if the truth were discovered?”
Justin tapped the desk with his fingers, mulling over everything he had learned during the past weeks. He’d spent hours studying the Sedleywich orphans register and following the complex chain of events that had obscured the origins of the child later presented to the world as the legitimate daughter of one of London’s leading families. The daughter Mariah believed was her own.
“It’s all in my report, Mariah,” he said, indicating the document on the desk. “Soon, I shall receive information which will confirm, I suspect, that this second girl has no relevance to my investigation. As I’ve told you, Miss Hardwicke’s family has gone to great lengths, and expense, to guard against any possibility of discovery, making my task so difficult. The only thing they could not take into account was family resemblance and a mother’s need to know.”
Mariah appeared not to have heard him. Only the rise and fall of her bosom revealed her feelings as she stared through the window into the street. “After all these years to finally discover my child…” Her voice trailed away, before she added bitterly, “A child I can never claim!”
Her pain sliced at him, but he had nothing to offer except platitudes. She spoke the truth.
Turning back to him, Mariah gave a wry laugh. “Only yesterday I told a young woman I was childless. Indeed, it is the truth, for I have never known my daughter and, now, it appears, I never will.” Dropping her eyes, she added, “In a twist of irony, this poor young woman’s anguish was caused by her ever-growing brood. Five, she said she’d had, in eight years, and suffering torments because she believed a sixth would kill her.”
Justin watched her push her dark hair back from her high forehead and wondered when it had become so tinged with gray. Just as he’d been struck by her handsome Castilian features when he’d first met her, he’d been struck by the continued rich gloss of her hair when she’d approached him three weeks before. Now it seemed dull and lifeless.
She was talking again, and he realized she was still referring to the young woman she’d met the previous day.
“I’d never have guessed it. She looked as innocent as a child, herself. And as frightened. This was no place for her. She admitted as much, but I think she’d have entered a tiger’s den if she could have reclaimed her husband and poured out her heart to him.”