His brow wrinkled and he took a step back. “You know?”
The world began to spin and she grasped the edge of the bed to stay upright. “Do you know who he is?”
“I—”
“His name!” she cried out. “Please?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, moving toward her, holding her up by the hands he cupped at her elbows. “I’m sorry,thatI don’t know.”
She tipped her head back in pain, in disappointment. He drew her closer, holding her. Not speaking, not demanding, just holding her.
“We were always told the same thing the world believed,” Rosalinde said against his chest. “That my mother had married someone of appropriate rank and that they had tragically died together, leaving my grandfather to care for us. But after I married Martin, my grandfather revealed the truth to Celia in a rage. He told her that our father is alive.”
“Alive?” Gray repeated, and there was shock to his tone.
“Yes,” she said, drawing back to look up at him. “Isn’t that what you determined in your research?”
He shook his head. “No, not that. Are you telling me your father lives and that Fitzgilbert…”
“Took us away from him after my mother’s death,” she said. “And he won’t tell us the truth about his identity, perhaps even his location, unless…”
“Unless?” Gray encouraged her softly.
She forced herself to look at him at last, knowing her cheeks were tear-streaked, knowing she was handing him the keys to her pain and trusting he wouldn’t use them.
“Unless Celia marries a man with a title. To make up for the shame brought upon his name by my mother when she married a man who was obviously beneath her. To make up for the shame brought by me when I married the same. HeforcedCelia into a corner. Lose any chance of finding the man who fathered us, or marry a man she does not love.”
Gray shook his head. “And now your motives are as clear as mine. You and your sister needed Celia to marry a title for more than mere mercenary reasons. In fact, it sounds to be as noble a cause as my own desire to protect Lucien.”
She blinked at tears. At last they understood each other. And yet they were still on opposite sides. “Here we are, brought together by the strangest of circumstances, the deepest of betrayals and lies.”
Gray drew back. “But wait, then why do you suddenly want Celia to break her engagement? You will not only be punished by your grandfather, but he may never tell you the truth about your father.”
“Because my sister’s happiness today is worth more than the vague promise of a man who does not give a damn about us,” Rosalinde said, lifting her chin in defiance. “Celia could wed and our grandfather could just as easily decide to hold the information hostage for some other reason. Until I marry or until there is an heir or until Stenfax allows my grandfather entry into some club. It might never end, and then Celia would have sacrificed herself for nothing. I would never forgive myself if she did that.”
“You are a good sister,” Gray whispered, and dropped a gentle kiss to her lips.
She let out a sigh and smiled up at him sadly. “And you are a good brother. Which means we are at cross purposes yet again.”
“We are,” he said. “But by God, I will tell you all I discovered in my investigation. You deserve that truth, Rosalinde. You deserve so much more. Come, get dressed. I’ll show you everything I have.”
Chapter Eighteen
Rosalinde tied her robe shut and looked at the hand Gray now held out to her. She took it, leaning into his bare forearm. He had put on his trousers but nothing else, and she squeezed his hand tightly, craving the warmth of his skin as he guided her to the table across the room.
She found herself leaning back slightly as she approached, as if that could help her avoid what was about to happen. Ever since she and Celia had learned the truth that their father lived, she had longed to know more. Now she feared it. What if what she saw proved he was just as wicked as her grandfather?
Gray brushed her fingers to his lips, almost as if he’d read her mind, understood that she needed his support and comfort. Having it gave her the bravery to take the last step and sit down at the table. He swiftly reorganized the papers and then stepped away, silent as she read through the tangle of information. It took her half an hour to do so, but when she was finished, she sat back with a sigh.
“There’s not much there, is there?” she asked, hearing her voice shake.
He stroked his fingers over her shoulder gently. “Your grandfather covered up as much information as he could.”
“There was never a record of her marrying,” Rosalinde whispered. “That is the part that stuns me, not that my father seems to have been a servant in their house. I knew he was likely below her because of my grandfather’s cruel remarks, his fury when I followed in her footsteps. But I always believed they were married. What kind of man could he have been to father two children with her but never marry her?”
Gray sank into the chair next to hers. He smoothed a few locks of hair away from her cheeks and said, “Rosalinde, your grandfather seems to me to be the vindictive kind.”
She shivered. “Indeed, he is. Cruel and punishing as the harshest winter.”
