“My cat,” Henry said with a wave of his hand. “I present to you Newton.”
“He is very...” Viola struggled to find the right word.
“Fat,” Henry supplied. He sighed while Viola watched Newton flop to the floor and sprawl out with lazy abandon. “My cook can’t seem to resist him. I keep telling her she’ll be the death of him one day but it’s like talking to a brick wall.”
Viola chuckled and bent to run her hand over Newton’s fluffy coat. He purred with pleasure and turned to offer his belly.
“Enough of that, you scoundrel,” Henry told Newton with notable humor in his voice.
“I think he likes me,” Viola said.
“He’s male,” Henry said. “Of course he likes you.”
Looking up, she became aware of the intensity with which Henry watched her. Heat fanned out across her shoulders, but then she spied the glass case they had come to see. Her temperature returned to normal while a new kind of excitement overcame her.
She leapt to her feet and hurried toward it. “Your automaton,” she said, admiring the boy who held his quill in preparation for the next words he’d be asked to pen. “He’s wonderful, Henry. Absolutely wonderful!”
Henry smiled with undeniable pleasure. “Just wait until you watch him write. It’s quite a mechanical marvel.”
“Do we have time for that now?”Please say yes.
“I—”
A loud banging sound came from the front of the house, causing Henry to frown. “I’m afraid not. It seems our guests have arrived.” He led Viola quickly back to the parlor. When they entered the room, he gestured toward the sofa. “I think you should have a seat there at the end. It will offer you a regal appearance while preventing you from having to face Robert too closely.”
Agreeing with him, Viola took the seat he indicated, arranged her skirts and folded her hands neatly in her lap. Back straight, she stared toward the parlor door while asking her nerves to be still.
Steadford entered shortly after, followed by Hayes and finally Robert, who glared at her as soon as she came into his line of vision. Greetings were made with clipped politeness and then Henry came to sit by her side before anyone else could do so. She breathed a sigh of relief and fought the urge to reach for his hand when Hayes placed a large pile of papers on the table before her.
“We are here today to share our findings with you so you may prepare for court,” Hayes said. “The Duke of Tremaine will be seeking compensation from Mrs. Lowell in the form of St. Agatha’s hospital and her ownership in the rejuvenation center.”
Viola blinked. “What about the money I haven’t yet spent and the house I own?”
Hayes smiled. “The duke is not a monster, Mrs. Lowell. He does not wish to turn you out of your home or take the few funds you have left. After all, you and his father were married, so you ought to be entitled to something.”
“He knows going after my places of business is going to hurt me the most,” she muttered while doing her best not to meet Robert’s gaze.
“Indeed.” Hayes stared at her for a second before repositioning himself in his seat and saying, “Judge Atkins has confirmed the tenth, so you’ll probably receive a notice from him soon.”
“You blindsided me with this, Hayes,” Steadford grumbled. “And I don’t take kindly to that so I ought to warn you that I have every intention of having that date postponed.”
“You’re welcome to try.” Hayes held Steadford’s gaze for a long uncomfortable moment before dropping it to the pile of papers on the table. Viola instinctively stiffened because she could sense, before anyone uttered another word, that what came next would not be good.
This feeling increased tenfold when Hayes smiled and looked at her. “As I mentioned when last we met, my clerks have been very busy lately.” Oh God. Her heart was pounding. More so when he slid a large leather-bound book out from under the papers and flipped it open. “This is the church record for St. Andrew’s Holborn, years 1790 to 1800. The vicar there was kind enough to lend it to me so I can show you this very intriguing detail.”
“I doubt it’s anything we’re not already aware of,” Henry said. He gave Steadford a pointed look, and Viola realized he was trying to lessen the significance of Hayes’s upcoming revelation.
Hayes hesitated and glanced at each of them in turn while Robert looked straight at Viola with predatory menace. “Here is Your Grace’s name, Viola Elisabeth Marsh. And here, where your mother’s name should be, it says Danielle Marsh. But an additional note has been added in the margin. See?”
Viola sucked in a breath as she stared down at the heavy scrawl. The wordbastardwas followed by a question mark. How Hayes had managed to find this she could not imagine. It made no sense. She’d been born in France, not England, but according to this... Dear God. Marsh must have had her christened after their arrival. He’d been a religious man so of course he would have. It made perfect sense even though she’d not thought to consider it before.
Unfortunately, his desire to do right by her had now done her harm.
Knowing her only resort was denial, she said, “There’s obviously been a mistake since my parents are both listed.”
“Indeed,” Hayes murmured. He leafed through the pile of papers until he found the page he sought. Pulling it free, he leaned back in his seat. “What I have been able to piece together is that your mother and father were not married. I deduced this after a lengthy discussion with the clerk who filled out this record twenty-one years ago.
“He remembers Mr. Marsh and his infant daughter because of how unusual the whole situation seemed to him at the time. When he asked Mr. Marsh about the child’s mother, Mr. Marsh could not provide a marital record. The clerk questioned him further and Mr. Marsh began dissembling, weaving a tale about a fire and how your unfortunate mother and the marital record had both been destroyed in it. Apparently, lying for the purpose of establishing legitimacy happens often, and one could not be named legitimate without proof. Which Marsh did not supply. His failure to offer any evidence of marriage leads me to believe that he knew exactly who your mother was and that he was trying to hide it.”
