Rowena took her by the upper arms, her heart aching for this child she’d reared, protected with her very soul. “Oh, darling. That’s hysteria speaking. The man is titled. He’s nobility. And you—you are the… sister of a known and well-established courtesan.” Fairly choking out the words, Rowena plowed on. This was the life she’d created for her dear Corinne, and there was no way to turn back the clock. Rowena tugged a lace handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed Corinne’s tears. “I realize how difficult this is for you to believe, sweeting,” she said gently. “But men like your Brandon do not marry women of our ilk.”
Corinne took a step back from her, further cracking Rowena’s heart. “That’s not t-true.” A long moment ensued before her gaze fell away.
The hair at Rowena’s nape rose. Corinne was hiding something. Rowena lifted the girl’s chin, forcing Corinne to meet her eyes. “There’s something else. Tell me, dear. What is it?”
Corinne jerked her chin from Rowena’s clutch and turned away. “Nothing.”
Anger and frustration flared through Rowena. “Thereisno other way, Corinne. I have worked hard to ensure that you do not end up as I have.”
Corinne slowly faced her, sorrow touching her eyes. “But he did marry, Rowena.” Her voice softened to a placating tone, one she often employed when Rowena was forced into servicing a particularly vile client. A tone that threatened Rowena’s very sanity.
Shock reverberated through Rowena. “What?”
“I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. He said it would be too dangerous.”
Corinne was fanciful and high-strung. Rowena swallowed back her irritation. “How did that happen without me knowing?”
“He obtained a special license. You were at the theater and we traveled to Camden Town.”
Rowena stopped, gaping at her. “Is this true?”
“Yes,” she said with a defiant tilt to her chin.
Rowena went to the settee and sat down. Hard. It couldn’t be. Harlowe had fought Rowena every step of the way when it came to marrying Corinne. She looked up Corinne. “Viscount Harlowe at least seemed to have a conscientious bone in his body. But, darling, he’s a man. Look what happened to me.” Rowena shuddered. If Maudsley learned of Corinne’s existence… Well, it didn’t bear thinking about. Maudsley was diabolically evil. She would die rather than let the man know his daughter had survived his former wife’s gruesome death. Rowena had risked her life saving that infant, and eighteen years had not softened her stance on the matter. Maudsley was a murderer, and he would not hesitate in sending Rowena to the ends of hell.
Rowena rose again and took a lace handkerchief off the vanity top. She gripped the shred of lace tightly, mortified to see her hands still trembled with such fury. “Some bastard forced himself on me for years.” She inhaled a slow, deep breath. “But then… I had you.Yougave me courage to do what needed to be done. And I did it.” The last statement came out bitter, yet proud. “I never stood a chance, Corinne. Don’t you see? It’s much too late for me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Corinne snatched the scrap of lace from Rowena’s fingers and rubbed away tears she hadn’t realized she shed. “You know how I despise your speaking of yourself in that derogatory manner. I would never have survived without you.”
Relief flooded Rowena, and she pulled Corinne into a quick hug. “You’re stronger than you believe, darling.” She let go and glanced around their unexpectedly opulent dwelling. The Kimptons’ hunter’s cottage was crude in some aspects, but twelve rooms definitely served her and Corinne’s humble purposes. “Come. Let’s have tea in the drawing room.”
An odd painting hung over the mantle that eerily resembled Traitor’s Gate at the Tower. Even with a fire in the grate, a chill stole over Rowena’s skin looking at the depiction of such a dire theme. “We must do something about that picture,” she said.
“No! That’s Brandon’s work. It stays,” Corinne said.
“How can you possibly tell?”
Corinne smiled softly. “I told him he uses too much paint.” She walked over to the picture and pointed to an iron arch encased by stone. Over the gate, the sun sparkled brightly through the holes. “Here,” she said. “You can see places where he used large clumps of oil. It helped in creating the blinding effect of the sunlight. When he pulled the brush away, it left a tiny bit of a string in its wake.”
Rowena leaned in. Indeed, a hairline strand of the paint stood out at different points. Clumps, just as Corinne said. Rowena shuddered. “But why such an ominous subject? What is that curved sword clasping the gates together? It looks like a symbol of death.”
Corinne grinned, more like her old self. The sight lifted Rowena’s heart. “Brandon said he wanted his works to convey a message.” Confidence strengthened her tone.
Rowena took a breath and faced her. “Listen to me, darling.” She grabbed Corinne’s hands and squeezed. “It’s more important than ever that you stay hidden. There’s word in the village that Lady Kimpton is to take up residence. News has run rampant of her impending arrival.”
Rowena feared if Lady Kimpton discovered them on Kimpton property, she would turn them out without a pence to their name. There was no trusting the tales of Lady Kimpton’s generosity. Rowena trusted no one.
Up until now, Rowena had managed to keep Corinne out of sight, and Rowena was almost certain no one knew where they were, excepting the Kimpton steward, Quince. He’d been helpful in keeping their whereabouts silent thus far. It had been that way most of Corinne’s young life. Sending her to schools, making sure she wore the best clothes and such.
Corinne’s face paled. “But—but I shall go mad.”
“I’m serious, Corinne.” Rowena spun and hurried for her cloak that hung on a hook next to the door. “It’s imperative I’m seen in this condition. And I’ve yet to locate the midwife.” Rowena paused in her haste. She drew Corinne into a tight hug. “Don’t worry, darling, it shan’t be long now.”
Corinne gasped a hard breath. “No, no, of course not. I-I won’t disappoint you—I could… never.” Corinne bent over, clutching her large girth. “Ro… I-I don’t feel so well…”
A large gush of water pooled at their feet, and Rowena caught her by the arm before she hit the floor.
“This weather is atrocious, isn’t it?” Lorelei smiled at Quince, Thorne’s longtime steward. “My apologies for the late arrival.”
