“Do all the matrons know my story?”
“Just the dowager and myself.”
“So, it truly is a secret.”
“You know we won’t say anything.”
And her mother’s life would never be acknowledged. “We don’t know my mother’s name?”
“No. Her clothes were well-made. The leather on her shoes was excellent, so she had to come from money. Her hair was the same color as your own, and that is all I remember. The duchess hired a man to make inquiries for a missing young woman. She never learned answers.”
“No one cared about her. What happened after she died?”
“A funeral was held. She is buried in the churchyard.”
“She’s buried there?” Clarissa had grown up playing amongst those graves.
“Yes, close to the yew. The headstone is a small block with the letterPon it.”
Clarissa knew that grave. She’d always thought it was the resting place of a child. “Thank you,” she said, meaning the words.
At that moment, Gibson knocked and announced, “Your coach waits to take you to the church, Miss Taylor.”
“Is his lordship here?” she asked. Both women stood.
Without opening the door, Gibson said, “He has already left.”
“You are going to tell him, aren’t you,” Mrs. Warbler said.
Clarissa nodded. “I must. He deserves to know who he is marrying.” She picked up the shawl Mrs. Warbler had lent her and drew on her gloves. “Are we ready?”
“Don’t tell him,” Mrs. Warbler advised.
Clarissa didn’t answer, because what she would have said was that she was done with secrets in her life. She believed she owed it to Mars to be honest. And those words might make Mrs. Warbler regret sharing the story. Instead, Clarissa left the room, taking a moment to peek in on Dora. Mrs. Rucker had matters well under control. Vivian was playing on the floor while Dora watched from Mrs. Rucker’s lap. She closed the door.
What if Mars was not pleased with marrying a woman who was the child of adultery? There were many, including Reverend Taylor, who believed the sins of the parents were visited upon the child. She didn’t believe Mars would have those notions, but, in truth, she knew so little about him.
What she did know was that she did not want to give Dora up. She already loved the child.
“I should never have told you,” Mrs. Warbler declared out in the hall.
“I am grateful you did.” Clarissa meant thewords. “I’ve had too many unanswered questions in my life.” She touched the medallion. “And I appreciate this. I wonder what thePstands for? Or the lily?”
“It sounds as if now you have more questions,” Mrs. Warbler said grumpily.
“I may.” Such as the identity of her father, except did she really want to know a man who could betray a young woman as callously as he had?
She thought not.
Reverend Summerall was waiting on the church step as the coach approached. He was not alone. Curious villagers waited with him, hoping for a glimpse of the bride. They were not to be disappointed.
The minister opened the vehicle’s door himself and then took a step back in pleased wonder. “Ah, Miss Taylor, you make a lovely bride.”
Clarissa did not move from her seat across from Mrs. Warbler’s. “Thank you, sir. Is Lord Marsden here?”
“He is waiting inside.”
“Please send him to me.”
