But the time had come for him to guide his own future.
Damn all of society. Even if Tilde hadn’t any claim to gentility he’d still make her his wife.
The solicitors’ sign beckoned. Just as he approached it an unusual sight drew his attention. A familiar figure of a woman was tying a mule to a hitch outside of the solicitor’s office. She was hunched over, wearing colorful silks and scarves, oddly reminiscent of––
“Madam Zeta.” It was the same woman who’d predicted his future barely two weeks ago. What had she told him? That he’d lost a fortune in his past… something about that fortune being his future.
He shook his head in denial. Was Matilda Fortune that fortune? The woman looked up just then and pinned her gaze on him. Yes, it was most definitely the same woman, with her dark skin and unnervingly light bluish grey eyes.
“Madam Zeta.” He reached out to secure the tether for her and then flicked a coin in the direction of one of the young boys hanging about waiting for just such an opportunity. The woman seemed utterly out of place, with her colorful clothing and dark skin.
But a determined glint burned behind those eyes.
“My Lord,” she nodded respectfully. Did she remember him? But upon studying him intently, she twisted her mouth into a grimace. “You are close to reclaiming your fortune.” She announced.
Was it possible? His smile froze on his lips. Even if it was not, he would humor the worn-out looking woman. Something he didn’t quite understand compelled him to ask, “May I be of service to you?”
She flicked her gaze toward the solicitor’s sign. “You are kind for asking. But no. Thank you.” She reached out to him. “Give. Hand. Now.” The same as she had before.
He didn’t hesitate this time, curious as to what the woman had to say today.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He waited patiently, ignoring the few odd stares they attracted.
When she opened her eyes, she blinked, as though coming out of a trance. “You stand to lose a great deal if you do not protect those whose hearts belong to you.” And then she squeezed his hand in what felt like a warning.
“We all have our paths and they are never clear. Do not dwell on regret, or unforgiveness. Happiness is within your reach.” And then she dropped his hand, turned her back upon him and entered the stately office building.
Her predictions or fortunes or whatever he decided to think of them as unsettled him. She made sense in a way that perhaps could apply to nearly anybody. And yet, just now, he’d realized he needed to protect the girls and Tilde from his mother.
He’d ordered his mother to take her leave.
And then he’d walked away, leaving his mother alone in the house with––
He lifted his hand and hailed a hackney before he dared complete his thought. Happiness was within his reach. He would not take any chances this time. No, he was going to damned well take hold of it with both hands.
* * *
When Jasper burst into the nursery and saw Peaches curled up on Althea’s lap, his first thought was relief. But when his gaze noticed his daughters’ faces, a cold dread squeezed his heart.
Eloise rushed forward with a cry and threw her arms around his legs. “She left. Miss Fortune left!” Lifting his daughter into his arms, he could see she’d done a considerable amount of crying already. This had to be the work of his mother.
“Hush, sweetheart. I’ll bring her back.” He carried her across the room and dropped onto the chair across from where Althea sat. “Surely, if she did not intend to return, she would not have left Peaches, now would she have?”
But Eloise was shaking her head. “She asked us to take care of Peaches for her. She said her new family probably wouldn’t let Peaches live in their home. She said she was sorry and told us to be good for our next governess. But I don’t want a new governess, Papa!” And then she buried her face beneath Jasper’s chin.
What if she’d wanted to leave? Was it possible he’d been so full of his own satisfaction that he’d not realized she regretted the night they’d shared together? He’d promised her at the onset of her employment that he would not act on his inclinations and then he… had.
“Did she say why she had to leave?” Of course, she would not have told his daughters the real reason if that had been the case.
Eloise shook her head against his chest, but Althea looked up at him, and nodded.
“What did she say, Thea?” His silent daughter stilled the hand that was petting the small dog and squeezed her eyes together. He waited.
“The monster lady made her.”
The woman in their nightmares? And then the terrifying epiphany her simple words evoked nearly brought tears to his eyes. Crabtree had been banished a week ago.
The monster lady was his mother.
