Her father was again studying the toe of his boot. He hadn’t answered his wife. He wasn’t making a move to appease her either.
What had he called Elise? Miss Faircloth?
She’d be damned if she accepted that deception.
Elise found her voice. “I am Miss Elise Lanscarr. Sir John’s youngest daughter.” Each word was strong and steady.
Did they understand what that meant? That he had a family they hadn’t known about?
Or did it even matter to them?
Suddenly, Elise felt hollowed out. There was no time to fully grasp the import of what she suspected. Some of it was too volatile for her to consider—especially at this moment with all eyes on her.
Her courage spent, but her pride still intact, Elise pushed her father’s hand away from the handle, opened the door, and left the house.
For the briefest second, she stood on the step. Kit had been right. She shouldn’t have come. She should have left things as they were.
She walked down the step and moved toward the road—
“Elise.”
Kit’s voice surprised her. She’d forgotten about him.
She turned. He had been waiting by the corner of the house. He walked toward her.
“Is everything well?” he asked, concerned eyes searching her face.
A simple question. She didn’t know how to answer, especially standing where they could both be seen by anyone looking out the window. There were emotions bubbling inside of her that defied words.
So, she took the only action she could. She lifted her skirts and began running. She raced to the road and into the tree line. She ran through the woods, almost slipping on pine needles before reaching the hardwoods. She couldn’t draw a full breath because her chest was tight withbetrayal. But she did not stop. She kept going because shewantedher lungs to explode. Wanted something to take away the shame. Once more she hadbelievedand she’d been deceived.
That seemed to be the story of her life.
People lauded her looks and yet no one saw her heart. No one cared for her. Least of all her father, whom she’d idolized. He’d been the center of her world. Even when he wasn’t there, he’d been a presence.
But now she understood his absences. Why had he needed to return to Wiltham and his daughters? Why, when he hadsons?
And one of them he’d obviously had while still married to her mother. How convenient of her to die soon after Elise was born. She’d saved himfrom bigamy—unless there were more wives and children out there?
Her thoughts were dark—her world careening out of control. She fell into a walk, pushing herself so that she wouldn’t think, wouldn’tfeel. What would she say to her sisters? They had trusted him as much as she had.
They’d all been proud to be his daughters.
Elise came to a halt. She could go no farther. She leaned against the rough bark of a tree, a stitch in her side, and forced herself to do nothing but breathe.
Her heartbeat returned to normal. A bead of sweat rolled down her spine...
Her father was a liar. A deceiver. She was certainSallyhadn’t known of his other family.
Other questions crowded her mind—could she be a bastard child? Her? The Belle of London? Or Dara, MP Brogan’s wife?
Hopefully Gwendolyn, whose mother had been their father’s first wife when he was stationed in the Indies, escaped this taint of scandal.
Elise pushed away from the tree and realized she was in a small clearing. It was green and lush and there was a woodland pond with a mossy bank, water reeds, and dragonflies.
She walked to the edge of the pond. The sky was turning the rosy shade of twilight and the colors were reflected in the water. The calming water.
Elise bent and touched the surface with her fingers, watching the ring of light ripple, andsuddenly she began laughing. She couldn’t control herself. She doubled over she laughed so hard, her hands pressing into the soft bank.
