Mistress of Scandal (Greentree Sisters 3)

But she hadn’t found them. He’d helped her, the lover she’d scorned, and she’d been grateful for his generosity. She’d trusted him. He’d sent out letters and hired men to search. Sometimes she thought he had mobilized the entire country for her darlings.

Or at least that was what she had believed at the time. Now she wondered if he’d even lifted one finger.

But despite all the efforts to find them, her children were gone, and as the days, the weeks, the months slipped by, she knew it. Her health failed and she grew weaker. For a whole year she was ill, and her friends wondered if she would recover. But she was strong; she had to be.

Today I returned to life. I rose from my bed and dressed in black mourning—I vow I will always wear mourning from now on—and I made my way to the club. I have come back to life, but there will always be a part of me missing. How can it be otherwise? I have lost my children.

And as the years slip by, I begin to think I know who was behind the taking of them.

She woke with a start. Francesca was sitting beside her, holding her hand. She realized with a flash of insight that although her daughters had been returned to her almost ten years ago, it was only now that that reunion was complete. Now that the wayward heart of her youngest daughter had been restored to her.

“Francesca,” she murmured, and smiled.

“How are you feeling, Mother?”

“A little better, I think.” She grimaced. “The doctor has done unspeakable things to me, petit chaton.”

Francesca couldn’t help but smile. “If it makes you better, and cleans the poison from your body, then it was worth it, surely?”

But Aphrodite had fallen asleep again.

Francesca heard Dobson come forward, and his warm hand rested gently upon her shoulder. “She is sleeping,” he said. “We are very fortunate that Maeve administered such small doses.”

“Fortunate,” Francesca breathed, and shook her head over the word. “Where is Maeve now?”

“Locked up in a police cell, where she belongs, but I think she’ll always be in a hell of her own making.” Sebastian was there, too, on the other side of the bed. He was watching her face, trying to read her thoughts. “She loved Aphrodite, and to harm her has caused her great grief.”

“I can’t understand why she didn’t stand up to Mrs. Slater and say no. She could ’ave come to us,” Dobson said.

“I think she was so used to obeying orders that it didn’t occur to her that it was possible for her to do other than what she was told,” Sebastian said.

“Did you speak to her, that woman?” Dobson asked, and he didn’t have to name her; the savage tone of voice was enough.

“Mrs. Slater appears to have had some sort of seizure. From what I can make out she’s been ill for years, and getting worse. She can’t talk at all for now. And Jed refuses to.”

“So we’ll never know the truth? Why she did it, and who else was involved?”

“Who else was involved? Do you mean the man who gave the orders?” Francesca asked.

Sebastian answered her. “Aphrodite always believed there was someone else, someone who paid Mrs. Slater to kidnap you and your sisters. She would not tell me who he was. She wanted a witness or some kind of proof first. She wanted me to name him.”

“One of her lovers,” Francesca murmured, and then bit her lip, casting Dobson an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry. I was thinking aloud. To do such a terrible thing, the man most have hated her very much, and love can turn to hate.”

“Perhaps,” Dobson agreed, “but I think it was more than that. The man must have had something to gain from it. Money, that’s what drives most folk.”

“You think he was going to force Aphrodite and our fathers to pay money for our return? And then it went wrong. Yes, that makes sense.”

Dobson said nothing.

“I haven’t given up yet,” Sebastian said.

“At least my sisters and I are out of danger,” Francesca went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “You won’t have to follow me about anymore, Mr. Thorne.”

His brows slashed down over his eyes. She felt as if he were drilling holes into her. “You could still be in danger.”

“I don’t need your protection,” she said flatly. “I am returning to Yorkshire as soon as my mother is well again, and I will never come back.”

“You’re running away,” he said in a flat, angry voice.