“Ladies,” he began. “It is a pleasure to meet you all. I think I know which of you is my granddaughter, though.”
Marianne broke her hold and pushed Lucinda forward and whispered, “Curtsey.”
Lucinda took a breath and stepped forward, executing her best curtsey for her grandfather. “It is nice to meet you too.”
The dowager came forward, ever the hostess, and ushered the man to the sofa opposite where Lucinda stood. “Tea?”
The duke took his place by the fire and leaned on the mantel. Tony remained standing, too. He looked her way and winked.
Sitting Lucinda asked, “Lord Shorten, how old was my mother when she…” she wanted to say ran off but settled for, “left.”
The old man accepted a cup of tea from the dowager. “She was just turned ten and eight.”
“So, she still required your permission to marry.”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“And my father was a suitable match in all ways except his side of politics?”
“I suppose he was. You must understand that what side a man places his votes on is very important.”
Lucinda looked up to see the duke nodding. She looked back at her grandfather. “More important than the happiness of your daughter?”
“At the time, I thought so. I expected her to obey my commands when it came to her future. I thought I knew best. In hindsight, I realized I was wrong. My daughter was more headstrong than I knew.”
“So, you ran them out of the country?”
“Lucinda,” Tony said, but the viscount waved his objection away.
“It is a fair question. I did not run them out of the country. Foxton, your father, took up a position in first Austria and then Prussia. I had nothing to do with that. I suspect he wanted to get as far away from me as he could. To punish me by taking my daughter away from me.”
“Did you try and reconcile?”
“I did. I have the returned letters here as proof. My daughter wrote to me about her unhappiness living abroad. She was not like Foxton; she was not as self-assured and social, and she lacked the support she was used to.
“I begged her to come home but a letter came back from Foxton to say that Edwina was with child and would not be returning to England. I was devastated.”
“So you did know of me?”
“I knew she had a child but no other information. I had no idea when you were born, where you were born, or your gender. I had no way of contacting her again as they had moved to Prussia by then, not that I knew that until I was informed she had passed away.”
“And you never wondered what had become of me?”
“I wondered all the time. I tried desperately to ask your father to return you to me after your mother was gone but none of my letters got through, or if they did, he did not read them.”
Lucinda studied her grandfather’s face. Sadness etched every line of his face. His dull blue eyes pleaded with her forunderstanding. Could she believe him? Trust he was telling the truth?
He painted a picture of her father that went against her foggy memories. She twisted her ring around on her finger; the slightly raised feel of the little flowers and dividers eased her nerves. Her father had given her this ring, so that she would never forget him, but for years she had wondered why he had made the decisions he had made. Now she could see he could have sent her to her grandfather instead of some dark and lonely school. She could have felt loved and wanted. She could have had all she had craved for so long and her father had denied her that. And for what? A hatred of his father-in-law?
She looked at Tony. He said he could read people, knew when they were lying, and if he believed the old man before her, could she trust his instincts?
“Can you tell me more about my mother? What was she like?”
Lord Shorten smiled and sat back. “She was a precocious child. I adored that about her, and I am ashamed to say she was incredibly spoiled. In retrospect, I should have known she would go and do something impulsive. In many ways she was also naïve and had trust in everyone. She was shy but seemed to make friends easily. When she loved someone, she did so with all her heart. There could be no half measures for her.”
Tony perched on the side of the sofa closest to Lucinda and said, “Perhaps she thought if she got married without your permission you would come to accept it in time as you usually would.”
The heat of him next to her was comforting, and she resisted the urge to lean her head against him.
