“No, it doesn’t. Who would want us separated so desperately that they would go to such great lengths?”
“Well, Father thought Grandmother or one of your sisters was behind it at first.”
Daphne shook her head. “My family didn’t hate Byron. They just resented him for taking me so far away from them.”
“Then who else would want to separate us?”
Daphne released Emmie’s hand to sip her tea. Emmie sipped hers as well, hoping for some inspiration to strike. But the more they sat in silence, the more frustrated she became. Would they ever discover the culprit in this mess?
Suddenly, her mother’s eyes widened. “Tell me, who signed the missive sent to your father that I was dead?”
Emmie tried to remember the events of that fateful day. “I was visiting a friend of mine, and when I returned home, Father had already received the letter. He was sitting in the parlor clutching your miniature and crying. The letter was on the table next to him.” She paused, trying to remember more. “Come tothink about it, my uncle, the lord chancellor, was there as well, consoling Father the best he could.”
Daphne gasped and then muttered a curse that shocked Emmie, since she’d never heard a lady speak in such a way. Her mother stood and paced around the table.
“What is it, Mother?”
Stopping, Daphne closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “Oh, my dear. This makes no sense.” She opened her eyes and looked at Emmie. “But your uncle was the one who sent me the letter about you and your father.”
Emmie’s body grew numb, and the teacup slipped out of her hand, falling to the floor and shattering. Her chest tightened as if a house had fallen on it. Tears built in her eyes as she shook her head, not believing what she’d just heard. “But… why would he do that?”
Daphne rushed to Emmie and took her in her arms. “Oh, my little Emmie. Your uncle never approved of me. All the while your father was courting me, your uncle tried to convince Byron that I wasn’t the right woman. Several times during our courtship, he tried to separate us.”
“Why?” A tear slipped down Emmie’s face.
“Because he said your father was meant for better things. The ruthless man wanted Byron to go into politics with him. He didn’t want Byron marrying anyone unless they came from a well-to-do family.”
“But why didn’t he stop to think of the little girl whoneededher mother?” Emmie sobbed against her mother’s shoulder. “I thought he loved me, but he doesn’t. All he cares about is himself.”
“I know, dear. I know.” Daphne stroked Emmie’s hair, rocking her slowly back and forth. “I feel so bad that I didn’t realize it was the lord chancellor until now. After he sent me the letter concerning your deaths, he came to visit to bring me a fewthings of yours and your father’s so I could have something to remember you by. It touched my heart that he was so thoughtful when I knew he didn’t like me.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “I should have known better. He was being too nice.”
Emmie jerked back and stared into her mother’s teary eyes. “Oh dear. What will he do when he discovers we have found each other?”
Daphne shrugged. “I suppose he is not going to like it when Byron hears the truth.”
“I pray someone arrests my uncle and hangs him for treason.” Emmie sobbed. “If he tried this, what is going to stop him from trying to separate us again?”
“Hopefully, your father will take care of that.” Daphne offered a shaky smile and caressed Emmie’s wet cheek. “But nothing is going to tear us apart ever again.”
Emiline glanced at the table. “I’m sorry I broke Mrs. Winterbourne’s teacup.”
“There is nothing to be sorry about. I shall have one of the servants clean it up. I think you should lie down on my bed. I’m certain a little rest will do wonders for you.”
“I think I will.” Emmie wiped her eyes and started walking toward the door. Her mother went to the servants’ door to fetch someone to clean up the mess.
Before Emmie reached the door, she noticed a movement out by the street again. Elias was talking to some man with abnormally orange hair, and another man wearing a hat who had his back toward her. But the way he stood, a spark of familiarity hit her, but she couldn’t put her finger on who the man could be. The orange-haired man and Elias were discussing something serious—as was evident by their drawn expressions.
She almost stopped and called out to Elias but decided against it. She was certain her face looked a fright after she’dbeen crying. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone right now, especially anyone new.
Slowly, she walked to her mother’s room, her heart wrenching with sadness over her uncle’s betrayal. How could he do that to his family?
Her head pounded with anger as well. She wanted to inform her father of what his self-centered relative had done, yet she needed to tell him face to face and let him see his wife as well. Soon all would be out in the open, and she prayed someone could stop her uncle once and for all.
She lay down on the bed, but the stuffy air and warm room made resting impossible. She rose and opened a window to let in the breeze before returning to bed. Just as she rested her head on the pillow, the sounds from outside drifted through the air, making her hear almost everything going on outdoors. More specifically, she heard her brother and the two men. Why did the street have to be so close to her mother’s room?
Groaning, she rose once again to shut the window, but then one of the men spoke a name that made her pause. They couldn’t have said what she thought.
Moving closer to the window, she peeked outside. All three men were hidden by the leaves from the bushes, but their voices were much clearer.
