Kit was still kneeling before her. "It was only after the old marquess died last year that his secretary came forward and confessed that the old devil had hired some men to burn down the cottage. He was told they had only found two bodies, that of an elderly woman and a baby. They assumed that you must have survived somehow. Fearing the old man's wrath, for he was known to become violent when he did not get his way, they kept it a secret and told him the deed was done. The secretary only found out because one of the men who had been there confessed the whole story deep in his cups at the tavern. That was last year."
"So for six years you thought I'd died in the fire," Mira whispered with a sick feeling in her stomach. Where she’d always had the hope that he might still be alive, which had kept her going, he'd had no such hope. He'd really thought that she was dead.
"That's what I believed. It wasn’t until last year that I actively began looking for you."
"We all helped, did we not?" Evie chimed in. "We turned over every stone in England, but you were just not to be found! And then one night, just like that, you were sitting in the opera box opposite ours. I was the one who spotted you first. I said, 'Look, doesn't she look like she could be Atherton's lost love?' I had seen your portraits, you know. Atherton had done dozens of them. You should have seen the look on his face. He staggered out of his chair and almost fainted. And now you are reunited for a happy ending to which I also contributed. Isn't it a splendid story?" She clapped her hands.
Everyone again proceeded to talk at the same time.
"But… I don't understand." Mira lifted a hand. "Who were the bodies in the grave? Who died?"
Atherton took her hand and looked at her with sorrow. "Miss Pearson and the baby."
"It's so very sad, isn't it?" Evie was about to cry again.
Mira shook her head. "But I don't understand. They did not die."
The whole room fell silent.
"What exactly are you saying?" Atherton asked slowly.
"I'm saying that Miss Pearson and the baby did not die. No one died. In fact," she took a deep breath, "it may please you to know that Miss Pearson and Clare are very much alive and well. God willing, they will arrive tomorrow." She looked him firmly in the eyes. "I've been meaning to tell you. You have a daughter, Kit."
Atherton, who had been crouching in front of her, toppled backwards and sat on the floor. "Can-can you repeat that?"
"Miss Pearson and Clare are arriving tomorrow. I wrote to them immediately after our first meeting here at the forge. And I've been trying to tell you about Clare. But somehow it was never the right time..."
Evie shrieked.
Rose jumped up and down.
Lady Randolph clapped her hands over her head.
"Congratulations, it appears you're a father," Lindenstein commented.
The duke did not say anything at all but crossed his arms, and a smile lit up his normally austere features.
Even the princess, for the first time, lost her composure and looked shaken.
Atherton's face was completely drained of blood. "C-Clare?"
"I thought it was an appropriate name." It had been his mother's.
He was entirely speechless.
"Would you care to tell us what exactly happened that day, my lady?" the duke interjected.
Mira looked from one to the other. "Clare was born the night the cottage burned down. But we were not in the cottage, we were at Farmer Smith's. His wife, Mary Smith, was our second witness at the wedding. You may remember that Mary was a most excellent midwife who attended almost every birth in the village."
Atherton merely stared back at her.
"Well, my husband had disappeared. There was a baby on the way. As it happened, Miss Pearson became increasingly anxious as my time approached and insisted that we move in with the Smiths. Just in time, too, because Clare decided to put in her appearance that night. And then they said there was a fire in the distance. They said the cottage had been struck by lightning and burned to the ground." Mira frowned. "Though not a drop of rain fell that night. The cottage was gone. Soon after Clare was born, we moved to Surrey to live with Miss Pearson's cousin, who was married to a clergyman, Reverend Barker. They were kind enough to take us in. Then Reverend Barker died, and money became tight. Clare and Miss Pearson stayed with Mrs Barker, but I went to London to keep looking for you."
London had been terrible. She hadn't found work at first. Nobody wanted to take on a country girl with no references and a baby on the side. With no money at all, she'd had the option of walking the streets or going into the workhouse. She had chosen the workhouse, where a week later Lady Cullpepper had appeared along with several other upper-class women and decided to do her Christian duty and hire a maid at a low wage.
"At some point after you'd left for Surrey, the old marquess must have had the fake graves made. I think we all agree he was a very bad man," Evie proclaimed. "But finding you all alive and well and reunited is a splendid ending to such an awfully sad story."
The duke rubbed his forehead. "The ultimate lesson being never believe any source of information without verifying it, even if it comes from one’s secretary. It appears we are all at fault here for having believed the secretary to have been a reliable source of information regarding the body count, when the graves were all fake to begin with. He must not have verified what he was told and taken the words of a drunkard for granted. It is unforgivable, really. We might have been able to find you faster if we'd had all the facts straight."
