The father?Clarissa leaned forward. “Who is he? Who was she?”
Mrs. Warbler placed a hand on Clarissa’s arm. “We don’t know. She refused to tell us. She wouldn’t even give her name. Most of the time she was delirious from the fever. From what little she did say, we learned she’d come to Maidenshop to meet her lover, except he already had a wife. The poor girl had been betrayed. She was horrified by her situation.” Mrs. Warbler did not hide her disgust. “Apparently, she had been staying with her brother, waiting for her lover to come for her. When he didn’t and she started showing, her brother turned her out.”
“That’s shocking.” And yet, Clarissa knew it happened.
She was also upset to realize that her mother had been discarded by the man who had fathered her. “My father was dishonorable.”
Mrs. Warbler nodded her agreement. “It was obvious to Lucy and me that your mother was gently bred. She was a lovely girl. Younger than you are right now. Life had played a cruel trick on her. Mr. Sexton tried to save her but she went very quickly.” She reached for the medallion. “She pressed this into my hand and begged me to see to your care. She offered it as payment but, of course, money was not important. The dowager and I were beside ourselves when she died.” Tears welled in Mrs. Warbler’seyes. She reached for a kerchief she had tucked in her bodice.
Clarissa sat very still, her mind racing over what she’d just learned. She picked up the medallion, turning it in the light. “Did Reverend and Mrs. Taylor know of my mother? They never said a word. They claimed I had been left on the church step.”
“And you were. I put you there.”
That was startling news. “Why?”
“As I said, the duchess and I both agreed that your mother was from a good family. She thought about taking you in, except as I said, her marriage was new and the duke was a stickler. As was Reverend Taylor. I feared he wouldn’t be sympathetic to your plight if he knew you were a child born from adultery. So, we decided on a little ruse. We would present you to the community as a foundling, abandoned on the church step. We hoped a family would take you in. We didn’t expect it to be the reverend. We were pleased that he and Ivy did because it allowed us to watch you grow.”
“What of my mother?”
“The duchess told Reverend Taylor that her people had found a young woman’s body on the estate. A stranger—and she was. Like I said, even ill, she was very close-lipped. Well, all save for one thing. Your name. She told us you were Clarissa. Yes, you were named by your mother. I tied a note with your name to the basket before I left you on the step. The duchessand I were pleased that the Taylors kept your name. We didn’t know what we would do if they didn’t. Reverend Taylor was a hard man to dissuade once he made up his mind.”
He had been... “No one even told me that my mother chose my name.”
“My dear, you can’t believe the number of times over the years that the duchess and I debated what we should tell you.”
Clarissa turned to the older woman. “So, why now?”
“Because your life is moving into a new direction. We felt you could understand, especially after your compassion for Dora.”
Clarissa placed her hand around the medallion, wanting to feel some hint of her mother’s presence. “All my life I’ve had questions. I used to pray that I could dream about her.” She looked to Mrs. Warbler. “Did she suffer much?”
“No, she left us in a matter of hours after she was found wandering in the cold. Mr. Sexton truly did try to save her, but it was almost as if, once she had you someplace safe, she could... leave. Like I said, she was not only very ill but heartsick as well.”
Clarissa could all too easily put herself in her mother’s place. A young woman abandoned and alone, yearning to believe a faithless man’s promises...
Pressure had been building inside of Clarissa right behind her eyes and tightening her throat. She was strong. She didn’t give in to self-pity, and yet this was her mother. Amother she’d never known. She looked down at the medallion, the gracefulPblurred—
Mrs. Warbler put her arms around her. “Cry, my dear. I have for your mother over the years. She would be so proud of you.”
When the tears came, they weren’t a torrent. Instead, they slipped silently over her cheeks.
“I do wish we had sherry,” Mrs. Warbler muttered.
The words broke Clarissa’s grief, because they were so Mrs. Warbler. She pressed a hand against her cheeks. “Thank you for letting me know,” Clarissa murmured. “It is hard news to share.”
Mrs. Warbler leaned close. “Everything your mother did was for you.”
“Except stay alive.”
“My dear, you know that sometimes life beats us down too hard. Any of us can lose hope. But you are stronger than she was. More resilient. After all, you slammed Warner Emsdale’s ‘bits’ in a door.”
The reminder sparked a laugh from Clarissa. “Not the important bits.”
“But you put him in his place well enough. And now, you are going to take Marsden in hand. You will be a brilliant countess. I predict that you will have a wonderful life. And that is all any of us, including your mother, hoped for you.”
She reached for Mrs. Warbler’s hand. “Thank you. Thank you for the gift—” She touched the medallion. “Thank you for being a godmotherto me in more ways than I could possibly have known. You and the duchess gave me a chance, and I know you did all that you could for my mother.”
“We take such pride in you.” Mrs. Warbler blotted away tears with her kerchief and then visibly took hold of herself.
