“I bought this for her years ago,” she whispered. “She truly despises me.”
“She’s of an age to lash out,” he said. “When we find her, you’ll repair the relationship. You’ll atone for your mistakes and eventually she will, too.”
“You are so certain she could love me again?” Jane asked.
He nodded. “Because you’re impossible not to love.”
Her expression softened, even as her gaze darted from his. He was revealing too much. He didn’t care in that moment. In the end, it would all come out anyway. There was no way he ended this battle without another scar. The first one had been worth it, he could only hope this one would be too.
“What are the letters?” he asked as she slipped her sister’s ring onto her pinky finger.
She drew them out, looking them over, unfolding them to read. “Seems to mostly be letters from friends over the years. Dates are around holidays when she remained at the school.” He could see her regrets on her face when she added, “I should have explained better why she couldn’t be with me or our mother during those times. Christ, I was a fool.”
“You did the best you could,” he said.
She lifted her gaze. “But it wasn’t what she needed. It hurt her.”
“And you’ll accept that responsibility.”
“You make it sound so easy,” she whispered, bending her head.
He flipped over the next letter in the pile and stopped as he unfolded it. An iciness settled over him as he scanned the words. Then it was replaced by anger. He lifted his gaze to Jane, still staring at her hands.
“Jane,” he said gently. He was about to hurt her, he hated that. “Jane, this letter is from your mother.”
Just as he expected, the reaction was swift and powerful. She lunged forward to the edge of the carriage seat and snatched the letter from his hands. “What?” She almost tore the cheap pages as she read them once, twice. Then she looked up. “She lied. My mother lied to me that she hadn’t been in contact with Nora.”
“Yes,” he said softly. “I couldn’t see that, I’m sorry.”
“She’s expert at manipulation, it isn’t your fault. But I should have known.” She squeezed her eyes shut briefly and then read some of the letter to him in a shaky tone, “If this Hugo wants you, you should do all you can to secure him, Nora. Grandsons of titled men don’t fall out of trees for women like us. You could help me and if you do that I’ll be more willing to meet with you.”
Ripley lifted a hand to his mouth as nausea rolled through him. Jane’s cheeks had gone pale and the two of them stared at each other as the ramifications of her mother’s words sat heavy in the air.
“How could she encourage my sister in this way, manipulate her with affection? And how could she lie to me about her? Lie about being in contact, lie about knowing anything,” Jane whispered. “She’s a monster, entirely self-concerned.”
“She is,” Ripley agreed. “And that is why you’re nothing like her, Jane.” He slipped the letter from her hands. “Whatever she said to you for all those years, it’s just as much a manipulation and a lie as whatever she told Nora.” He glanced over the letter. “We have a name now. Hugo isn’t a particularly common first name, I don’t think. And we know he’s the grandson of a someone of rank.”
“Which gets me exactly nowhere. That viscount’s wife was an exception, not a rule. I was a courtesan for mostly middle-class people, Ripley. I don’t know titled types.”
“But Esme and Delacourt do,” he said.
Her lips tightened and her eyes slid shut. “I was hoping not to drag them into my mess.”
He caught her hands and she lifted those beautiful blue eyes to his. Eyes that were filled with so much pain now that it crushed him down to his soul to see it. And to know that there wasn’t much he could do to help anymore except support her. Hold her up if she needed it.
“People who love you want to help, Jane.” She dropped her gaze to her lap again, but she nodded and that was enough for now. He continued, “We’ll go back to London. Discuss this with them, try to determine our next steps. Together, Jane.”
She looked up at him and then she slowly traced the line of his jaw with her fingertips. She let out a low, shaky sigh. “I won’t turn down the help. I couldn’t now. I already owe you far more than I could ever repay. By the time this is done I fear you’ll regret it and me.”
He wanted to argue that with her. To patch together all these places that turned out to be broken beneath her hard façade. But this wasn’t the time. So instead he shifted over to her side of the carriage, tucked her into his side, and simply held her.
The inn on the way to London that they stopped at far into the night wasn’t as fancy as the others where they’d stayed during their travels. But it had food and beds, which was all Jane needed.
Of course, she wasn’t using either as she sat before the fire, an untouched plate at her side, staring into the flames. All she could think about was Nora and all her fears for what was happening to her.
All she could think about was her failings and the failings of their mother and the world at large.
There was a light knock on the door and Jane started before she called out, “Come in.”
