An Heir of Deception (43 page)

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Authors: Beverley Kendall

Tags: #Romance, #Historical Romance, #sexy romance, #Victorian romance, #elusive lords

BOOK: An Heir of Deception
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“Miss Catherine, milady, if I had my way, you would never learn of this. I stand here at the insistence of Lord Avondale.”

Thoughts of the letter instantly came to mind. Charlotte’s disquiet grew. What she’d heard thus far had all the telltale signs of a confession.

“I knew Mrs. Henley,” Miss Foster continued in a soft, shaky voice. “Fact is, she helped raise me, she did.”

Charlotte felt the breath leave her body and heard her sister gasp.

Oh dear Lord. Oh dear Lord.

Dazed, Charlotte studied the woman, this time with the scrutiny of a magnifying glass. She noted the high yellow tone of her skin—so much lighter in color than most of the mulattos she’d seen in America. High cheekbones, full lips and a nose not quite as slender as hers and Katie’s clearly spoke of her heritage. Her eyes, however, were a clear, distinct green and faintly tipped at the corners. The shape of the
modiste’s
eyes were as familiar as the perfect oval of her face. Charlotte had seen it in the mirror and in her sister these last twenty-four years.

That is when the truth crashed down on her with enough force to have her reaching for the support of something. She immediately felt the solid warmth of her husband’s arm.

“I am here,” he whispered gently. Charlotte could see in his eyes that he knew.

“Are you our mother?” In a barely audible voice, Katie asked the question before Charlotte could.

With a shake of her head, Miss Foster managed to stupefy her once more. “No, I am not your mother,” she whispered, looking first at Katie and then shifting her gaze to her. “I am your mother’s younger sister,” she concluded, succeeding in jolting her all over again.

If she did not sit down, Charlotte feared she would find herself a crumpled mess of yellow muslin on the rug. As if sensing the effort it was taking her to remain upright, Alex led her to the closest chair and then sat down beside her, his strong arm wrapped around her shoulders.

Worried, Charlotte glanced at Katie, to see her standing motionless, staring at the woman with wide eyes, her hands clutching her waist as if she was warding off blows.

Shrugging Alex’s hands from her, Charlotte hurriedly went to her and pulled her sister’s trembling frame into her arms.

An eternity elapsed. Alex rose to his feet, his worried gaze settling on both her and Katie. Miss Foster stood, head bent, eyes downcast, tears tracking their way down cheeks void of color.

“Is our mother dead?” Charlotte had the presence of mind to ask.

Miss Foster’s head jerked up. “Oh yes. ’Tis the only way she’d have left you. The two of you meant the world tuh her. She’d have done anything for you,” her aunt was quick to reply.

“When our father cast her from the house, your mama went to your father for help. He set her up in a small house and I visited her there until her death. After she died, I wanted to take you, but I was too young—only thirteen years at the time. At first, I didn’t know what’d become of you girls. It took Mrs. Henley a whole year tuh find out you were being cared for by two women in Kettering. When she tole me, I left my position and moved there. I found a job working for a dressmaker and became friendly with Mrs. Turner, the woman in charge of your care. I sometimes offered her my sewing services free of charge. I was able to see you on the days I delivered her garments.”

At this point, she and Katie slowly made their way to the sofa positioned in front of Miss Foster and sank onto its cushioned seat. That appeared to be the cue for the woman to sit in the chair behind her and clasp trembling hands on her lap. She boldly held their gazes, but Charlotte could see by the large expanse of whites in her eyes, what it was costing her.

“I didn’t know where you were until Mrs. Henley found out you was at the school. I could only afford to move to Chesterfield, there being no work for me in a place like Bamford. But I would try to visit ’bout three or four times a year. I jus wanted tuh make sure you were getting on well, that they were treating you right.”

“So you knew who we were when we came to live with our brother?” Charlotte asked, her suspicions rearing up again and coming full circle. She simply could not bear it if all this time it had been her own aunt responsible for the misery of the last five years.

Miss Foster affirmed her question with a nod. “Mrs. Henley tole me. She loved me and your mother like we was hers. She had no children of her own and was there when both me and your mama was born. She said when our mama was dying, she promised her she’d take care of us. And she did. She never left us.”

Mrs. Henley. She had been utterly devoted to them just as she’d said. Charlotte wished she had gotten to know her better. Wished she could have stayed.

“Did you tell anyone about us?” Charlotte asked, approaching her suspicions cautiously.

With tight lips and guileless eyes, Miss Foster shook her head and Charlotte believed her. But that didn’t mean she hadn’t threatened to expose them. Of course it made no sense why she would do such a thing but who else could it have been?

“Did you send me a letter threatening to expose the truth about us if I married Lord Avondale?”

Miss Foster’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh dear Lord, no!”

Although it appeared her mortified reaction was genuine, Charlotte couldn’t be certain she was in fact telling the truth. It didn’t matter that she desperately wanted to believe her, wanted to know that all their life, while they’d felt unloved and unwanted, there had been someone—two people—who had always loved them, looked out for them.

“But—”

“She didn’t send the letter.” Katie’s voice was like a dash of cold in the discussion, for until then, she hadn’t spoken a word. Unfortunately, her sister had a weak spot for the woman and couldn’t be counted upon to remain objective.

“Darling, you cannot know—”

“I do know.” There was such conviction in her voice, Charlotte turned to her.

“How? How can you possibly know for certain?”

Katie closed her eyes tight but the tears squeezed through. She averted her face and came slowly to her feet.

“Because I wrote the letter.” Katie whispered the barely audible words but they rang out as loudly as the report of a rifle and caused just as much destruction.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Four

 

For a brief moment, the room tilted wildly as a wave of dizziness came over her. When her vision righted itself, her sister was staring at her with wide, guilt-stricken eyes, a river of tears running down her face. With her hands fisted tightly at her sides, Katie backed away from her slowly, one wobbly step at a time.

The truth rendered Charlotte mute.

No,
a plaintive voice in her head cried. She could not have possibly heard correctly.

Alex bolted to his feet and uttered one single epithet that had Katie stumbling back as if she’d feared he would physically accost her. Charlotte knew he would not but he looked as close to violent as she’d ever seen him with his jaw tight, his gaze narrowed and his lips peeled back from his teeth.

Charlotte lifted pleading eyes to her sister, willing her to tell her it wasn’t true. “You?” The word caught in her throat, so difficult was it to speak.

Sobbing and now nearly doubled over, her sister moaned, “Lottie, I am sorry. Lottie, I am so sorry.” Her heart-wrenching apology was nearly incoherent.

“B-but why?” None of this made sense. Katie adored Alex.

Oh dear Lord, perhaps she had feelings for him? The thought was intolerable.

As if reading Charlotte’s mind by the horrified look on her face, her sister shook her head furiously. “I know what you’re thinking but it was nothing like that.”

Katie glanced at Alex, who watched her with cold eyes. “I adore Alex but he’s always been like a brother to me.”

Had her sister loved him, although it would have been excruciatingly painful, it would have made sense.

Dazed, Charlotte could only shake her head from side to side. “Then why?”

Supported heavily by the desk behind her, Katie tried to hold back another sob but it broke forth and shook her frame. “I didn’t want you to marry Alex. I didn’t want you to leave me. That’s why I sent the letter. I knew you’d never go through with it if you thought it would ruin everything.” Her chest rose sharply as she inhaled a deep breath. “Now you know what a horrible, terrible person I am.”

Memories came flittering back, scenes of the past. Her sister rolling her eyes when she’d gone on and on to her about Alex. Charlotte remembered how desperately she’d tried to discourage her, assuring her Alex would never think of her in
that
way. That had been the reason Charlotte had stopped confiding her feelings about him to her.

“But I never meant that you should leave and not come back. Oh God, Lottie, when I read your note, I wanted to die. What I did, the way I acted so utterly selfish and I couldn’t take it back. You don’t know how much I wanted to find you, write to you and tell you it was safe to come home. But you refused to tell me where you were.”

It was obvious guilt had been her sister’s constant companion over the years. Her eyes looked hollow and haunted. Pained. Yet nothing could absolve her of the pain she’d caused.

“I cannot believe you would do something so cruel.”

Katie’s head hung low in shame. Another sob wracked her body. “Lottie, I do not know what to say except that I am so very, very sorry. I would beg your forgiveness if I thought I had the right to ask for it, but I don’t because what I did cannot be forgiven. I can only pray that one day you won’t think as ill of me as you do now.”

It became all too much to take in. Charlotte rose from the sofa, her hands and legs trembling. If she did not get out of there that very moment, she feared she’d do something rash. Betrayal wrecked her from inside to out. The foundation of the things she’d been so certain of before in her life had been rocked with such force, the ground felt as solid to her as quicksand.

The one person she’d loved all her life, depended upon and trusted had done the unthinkable. It was all too much.

“I must go.” Sightlessly, Charlotte started toward the drawing room entrance.

Alex’s arms closed around her as he pulled her tight against his side. Charlotte allowed herself to lean on him, breathe in his masculine scent and draw strength from his support.

“Lottie.” It was a tear-choked plea. If not for forgiveness, Charlotte couldn’t fathom a guess. Well Katie would not get either from her—at least not now. Everything was too fresh and her wounds too raw.

Angling her head in her sister’s direction, she briefly met Katie’s tear-soaked, wounded gaze. She slowly shook her head. “I can’t.”

 

Alex’s initial burst of anger had been explosive and blinding. But it eventually passed once he looked at his sister-in-law’s face; the anguish, the torment, the guilt. She was suffering a thousand deaths, her arms wrapped tightly about her waist and weeping even harder than when Charlotte had left five years ago.

“Watch her,” he said tersely, directing his attention to a bewildered-looking Miss Foster.

Without waiting for a reply, he led Charlotte from the room and up to her bed chamber. She was leaning heavily on him but didn’t speak. Her sister’s revelation had shaken her to her core that much was obvious.

He wanted nothing more than to absorb her pain and wipe the disillusionment from her eyes.

At her door, she peered up at him, glassy-eyed and a tear hovering on the tip of her lashes. “Please, I would like to be alone.” Her voice was choked with emotion.

Alex didn’t want to leave her, but she deserved time to herself. She—they—had been dealt a terrific blow, worse when the betrayal came at the hands of her twin.

“I shall be here,” he promised solemnly and it was a promise he meant to keep forever.

After she entered the room and closed the door behind her, Alex wasted no time returning to the morning room where he found Miss Foster holding a weeping Catherine in her arms.

“Miss Foster, I shall have my driver take you home,” he said. Right now he needed to speak to his sister-in-law.

Alex thought he saw Catherine’s arms tighten around the woman’s neck before loosening and then slowly dropping to her sides.

Miss Foster’s gaze darted between them, her expression uncertain.

Aware he probably appeared grim and forbidding, he kept his voice even and calm. “I would like to speak with Catherine.”

“Yes, of course, milord.” She gave Catherine’s trembling shoulders a reassuring pat and then made her way to the footman awaiting her by the door, his posture military erect.

Seconds later, the click of the door indicated they were alone.

Alex allowed the silence to stretch and lengthen until Catherine raised her head to peer at him. He trapped and held her gaze. She didn’t look away.

“Did you dislike me so much?” he asked softly.

“No, Alex, that wasn’t it at all. I did like you. I wasn’t lying about that. I liked you very much, it was just that….”

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