And from the room across the hall, a sitting room, a lad who was a few years younger than Elise entered through another door, a book in his hand.
They all looked like her father, although there were some subtle differences. But Elise realized that if they were queued up beside her, save for her light coloring, she would fit in.
The woman spoke. “John, you didn’t say we had company.” She came forward. “Who is here? Please, make introductions.”
The younger boys had scrambled back, the hat forgotten. The one with the book now stood in the doorway between the hall and sitting room, gaping at Elise. Charles had moved to the dining room door, his gaze sharp and distrusting.
Her father acted confused. “I—ah...” He blew air out from his cheeks.
Elise faced him, waiting for what he would reply, uncertain as to what this all meant.
There was an awkward silence.
Her father opened his mouth to speak, his brows coming together. “I don’t—” he started.
The woman cut him off. “Never mind,” she said briskly. And then to Elise, she added, “John was never one for manners. He was in the military but you wouldn’t know it. He spends too much time in Moorcock. He makes a good living, but there are those in that village who are not goodinfluences.” There was a coldness in her eyes, as if she suspected Elise was from Moorcock. “I’m Sally Lanscarr. You know my husband. Did you meet my son Charles?”
Lanscarr?Husband? Uncertain, hoping she wasn’t mistaking the matter, Elise looked to her father, whose gaze had dropped to his boots.
“We weren’t introduced, Mother,” Charles answered. He was well-spoken, and there was the air of a country prig about him.
Deep inside Elise could hear her heart drumming, the sound growing louder and louder in her ears.
Meanwhile,Mrs. Lanscarr made introductions. “My son Charles is here with us for the moment. He’s purchased his colors. He is going to be a military man like his father. He leaves in a few days.” She walked over to the younger boys. “This is William and this is Michael. And, in the doorway, is our John.” She spoke with a mother’s pride.
Her attention shifted to Elise. “And you are?”
She wasshockedwas what she was.Astounded.Hurt.Those words and more roiled through her.
Elise swung her gaze toMrs.Lanscarr. Yes, introductionsshouldbe made. She lifted her chin. “I’m Miss—”
“Faircloth,” her father cut in, finding his voice. “Sally, my dear, this young woman came to me with the hope that I could help her.”
“Help her? In what way?”
“Well,” her father said, “she is collecting for the Vale Society.”
“Oh, the parish box,” Mrs. Lanscarr said. She sounded as if she didn’t trust her husband.
She shouldn’t.
“We can talk about it as I go to Moorcock,” Old John said, his hand moving to shepherd Elise out the door.
Mrs. Lanscarr stepped forward. “Must you go, John? You did well last night. Can you not be with us this evening? The table has been set.” She nodded to the dining room.
“Ah, love,” he said, sounding as if he hated to disappoint her, even if he must.
Mrs. Lanscarr’s eyes dropped to his hand on the door handle. “Charles will be gone soon. Pleasestay.”
Elise felt as if she was an intruder. The boys all eyed her with suspicion.
And she thought about how triumphant this moment should have been for her. She had envisioned returning to London and sharing with her sisters that she’d found their father. It would help remove the sting and embarrassment over her impulsive actions in running away. They would be happy with her then and she’d not be forced to explain herself.
But what she’d discovered was worse than if he’d been dead. He had another family.
A family he had apparently abandoned her and her sisters for.
All that time she, Gwendolyn, and Dara had thought he was traveling the world going from one game of cards to another, he’d actually been in Moorcock—with hissons.
