Dietrich nodded toward Ella. “She bears a remarkable resemblance to the late duchess.”
Thea’s eyes widened. “Do you think…?”
Dietrich nodded. “Though why they would bring her back here after all these years, I don’t know,” he said.
Ella sighed. “I wish you would stop talking about me like I’m not in the room,” she said.
Dietrich nodded. “My apologies,” he said. “I am unsure of how to handle this situation. I don’t know if I should tell His Grace or if I should pretend I know nothing.”
“What do you think the chances are that she is the missing girl?” Thea asked.
Ella slipped her hand into her pocket and began rubbing her thumb over the tiny pumpkin hidden there.
“I don’t know,” Dietrich said seriously. “It would be hard to know for certain if Ella has no memories before she was three years old, and if she has nothing more than her name and the way she looks like the duchess to prove who she is.”
“But you think she is,” Thea said, “or you wouldn’t bring it up to her.”
“I wouldn’t,” Dietrich admitted, shaking his head. “I would have asked the opinion of more who might remember the girl first.”
“What does your mother say?” Thea asked.
“She thinks it’s very possible,” Dietrich admitted, “and she wanted me to ask Ella about it.”
Ella took another sip of her drink, ignoring both of them for a moment. Did she remember anything before she was three? She couldn’t remember a time before her father, could she?
She frowned, trying to comb back through all her memories. There was the time she had fallen, and her father had found her, scooping her up in his arms and telling her that he would always be there for her. There was the time she had been sick, but they hadn’t the money for a doctor, so her father had stayed up all night taking care of her. There was the moment where her father had remarried, saying he couldn’t raise her alone anymore.
But there was no memory of a mother. No memory of her father ever talking about her mother.
There were, however, memories of her father brushing away her questions about her past. And there was the moment after her father had remarried when the woman he had courted suddenly began to treat her differently.
Could she have not known until then?
“My stepmother would know if I had a mother, but…” Her throat was dry. She couldn’t ask Tabitha. She knew how she would react if she asked about her parents, and she had no wish to go through that again.
“We won’t ask her,” Thea said kindly.
Dietrich’s eyes searched hers, and he nodded. “We won’t ask until it’s time to get you out of there,” he said.
Ella nodded, the words she wanted to say catching in her throat.
Had his mother told him about the bruises she’d seen on Ella’s arm once?
“Is there anyone else who might know?” she asked, pushing down the thought of Tabitha.
Dietrich thought about it for a moment.
“Eugenia,” Dietrich suddenly announced, and Ella snapped her head up at the mention of her friend’s name.
“Eugenia?” she said. “I see Eugenia all the time, and she has never once said anything.”
“She might not remember,” Dietrich said. “It’s not as if she saw the duchess very often, and it has been many years. I myself didn’t notice until I was staring at the family portrait outside the duke’s study.”
Ella froze. “Why were you near the duke’s study?”
Dietrich smirked, his eyes dancing with laughter. “Don’t you remember I work for the duke?” he asked, studying her expression.
“Of course I do,” Ella said with a haughty tone, though she knew he could see right through it. She remembered him saying that now.
