Skye’s news, however, was not nearly as welcome as Hawk had expected. As soon as she left his study, the realization struck him with startling force: He would have liked having another child.
His mind went back to an image of Lucas as a newborn baby, how proud and joyous he’d been at becoming a father, the adoration he’d felt upon holding his tiny squalling son for the first time. And then Lucas as a toddler in leading strings, the fierce love he’d felt …
Strangely, the agony of remembering was gone, the recollection more bittersweet and poignant than gut-wrenching.
He was letting go of the pain, Hawk realized, in large part because of Skye. She was vibrant and warm, like sunlight, and, like sunlight, she had healing powers. For a decade, the hollowness inside him had been like a dark, empty pit, but he could slowly feel himself coming alive again, much like his house.
And once she’d departed for Kent with her cousin, it became starkly evident how she had changed his home for the better. Skye’s absence didn’t keep him from thinking about her often, either, or—worse—realizing how badly he missed her.
It was amazing to long for someone who had entered his life only recently, Hawk conceded. But he missed her liveliness and optimism. He missed the warm light in her eyes.
In short, he simply missed her.
Skye missed Hawk greatly as well, but she forced herself to concentrate on informing Daphne Farnwell about her mother’s survival in the kindest way possible.
Mrs. Nibbs was ecstatic to learn that her beloved mistress had made it safely to Ireland and was now back in England once more. And despite the increasing fragility of her body and mind, the midwife was eager to help.
Skye and Kate both thought it best to break the news in gentle stages and judge Miss Farnwell’s reaction at each step, beginning with the fact that Rachel hadn’t drowned but had taken refuge in another country, and then her reason for fleeing. If Daphne showed anger at her mother, or unwarranted sympathy for her late father, they would divulge nothing further just then.
But Skye hoped Daphne would be eager to make her mother’s acquaintance, and, if so, she would be invited to Hawkhurst Castle.
When they arrived in London, it was late afternoon, but they chanced calling then rather than waiting another day at a more proper time. Daphne lodged in an elegant town house belonging to her wealthy patron, the Countess of Gowing.
Daphne’s features bore a certain resemblance to Rachel’s, Skye noted when a footman showed them to the library where Miss Farnwell was reading. But her golden brown hair and her light blue eyes, combined with the twenty-five-year difference in their ages, made their likeness much less obvious.
Daphne looked surprised and troubled when Mrs. Nibbs appeared unexpectedly on her doorstep and was very solicitous of the old woman’s health, settling her before the hearth fire and ordering hot tea and a warm shawl to be brought in immediately.
Daphne also claimed to be honored by a personal visit from the Wilde ladies. At her quizzical look, Kate deferred any explanation by saying they would let Mrs. Nibbs tell the story.
When the midwife was situated comfortably, Skye watched closely and was unsurprised when Daphne initially reacted much as Lord Cornelius had done.
Shock came first. “My mother did not die?” she rasped.
“Nay, her ladyship was only forced to pretend so,” Mrs. Nibbs answered.
“Whatever do you mean? Why would she pretend her death?”
“You see, it was like this, Miss Daphne.…” The midwife gave a curt summary of William Farnwell’s cruelty to his lady wife, making it clear that Rachel’s very life had been threatened.
The horror Daphne clearly felt was written on her face. After absorbing those revelations in silence for a moment, she pressed her lips together tightly. “That does not astonish me as it ought. Papa could be brutish. It was shameful, how he treated some of our servants.”
“Aye, it was indeed,” Mrs. Nibbs agreed.
Another moment passed before Daphne’s revulsion and anger was overtaken by bewilderment. “Then what hap
pened to my mother if she didn’t drown?”
“She took refuge with a cousin in Ireland.”
Confusion and hurt swiftly followed. “But why did she leave me here with my father? If she was alive, why did she never attempt to see me?”
“Because she felt she had no choice,” Mrs. Nibbs explained quietly. “Under the law, she had no right to take you away. You were but a babe, and your safety would have been endangered also had she absconded with you. Moreover, she felt his lordship could offer you a much better life of privilege and comfort.”
“What kind of life did I have without a mother?” Daphne murmured, unable to hide her resentment. Then abruptly she shook her head. “Forgive me, that was uncharitable and childish of me, to be only thinking of myself. Especially when you say my father drove her to it.…”
Her words trailed off as she glanced down at her clasped hands, her mind obviously leaping from one thought to the next, the play of emotions on her face changing in quick succession. “My God … then she did not kill herself after all.”
The next moment her eyes filled with tears. “As a suicide, she was never buried on consecrated ground. And to think … all those years I blamed her for selfishly leaving me without a mother.”