“I—”Swallowing, she stared down at her gown, her fingers twisting thefabric.
“Sera?” he queried gently.
“Miss Edirisinghe told me— She said—” Slowly, she exhaled.“She is my sister.”
Shock stole histongue.
With a bittersmile, she continued, “My father, it seems, has anotherfamily.”
He didn’t knowwhat to say. She continued to stare at her gown, her fingerstwisting and twisting.
“Youdidn’t know?” he asked carefully.
She laughedharshly. “Of course not. Why would my father tell me anything? Henever has before. I’ve seen him once in all my life, when he cameto London to administer my mother’s estate and even then, I spentless than ten minutes in his company. I attempted to see him again,did you know that? I went to Paris, because he said in hisquarterly letter he would be in Paris, so I order a new wardrobeand arranged passage. I was there a month—a whole month—before Irealised he would not come. I was there a total of five months andnever did he arrive. In his next quarterly letter, he did not evenmention why he had not travelled to Paris. I am never his concern.”She wiped angrily at her wet cheeks.
He did not knowwhat to say. He rubbed at his chest, wishing he had the words.“What do you want to do?” he finally asked.
“Idon’t know what to do, Stephen. Miss Edirisinghe wants to get toknow me. She wants to call on me, and spend time with me, and shewants us to be sisters. But she’s known of me her whole life. I hadno idea my father had remarried, that he’d made another family,that he’d…he’d made me a sister. He has…he…heabandonedme,Stephen. I don’t know what to do.” She looked at him, her eyes wet.“What should I do?”
Nothing goodwould come of this. He couldn’t tell her what to do. “I cannotspeak for you, Sera.”
“ButI want to know. I want to know what you would do. What you thinkIshould do.”
She looked athim as if his opinion was worthy. “Perhaps…you should embrace her.”He worked his jaw. Christ. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing.“I have lost a brother. It is…I would give anything to have himback.”
She wet herlips. “But you are at odds with your other brother.”
Perhaps, butthey were not talking of him. “Are you at odds with MissEdirisinghe?”
“I—Only in the respect I had no idea of her existence and…it seems myfather cares for her. Greatly.”
“That is his failing, Sera.”
An incredulousbreath burst from her.
Christ, whydidn’t he have the words? “It is his failing he doesn’t... That hedoes not see how extraordinary you are. Clearly, your sisterrealises you are an exceptional human and she would be better offknowing you, having you in her life. Do not punish her for yourfather’s lack.”
For the longesttime, she stared at him. “He isn’t a good father.”
He shook hishead.
Her gaze driftedto Miss Edirisinghe. “At least, he isn’t a good father tome.”
“No.”
She nodded, andwithout another word she took his hand between hers, brought themto her lap and looked out to the stage.
He studied herprofile. Her cheeks were pale, her chin held high, but her fingersgripped his tight. Silently, he turned his attention to the stageas well.
They sat thusfor the rest of the play.
Chapter Twelve
WHISKY GLASS PROPPED ON the arm of the leather chair,Stephen watched patrons of the 1810 Club mill about him. One halfof the floor was dedicated to gambling and ladies and gentlemenboth enjoyed that entertainment, wagering sums that would keep hischarities in funds for years. Close around him, patrons enjoyed ashe did the outstanding selection of alcohols however most pairedtheirs with conversation and perhaps the excellent foodstuffs fromthe kitchen.
What was Seradoing now? She’d said she had a dinner to attend at anacquaintance’s and, as he wasn’t invited, he could not join her.He’d been at odds, unsure how to spend his evening, and so he foundhimself here, contemplating whisky and thinking of her.
She had beendistressed at the theatre. He couldn’t even comprehend what it mustbe like discovering a sister—a whole other family, really. She’dsaid Miss Edirisinghe had mentioned brothers in addition toherself, and he cursed Sera’s father for a bastard for nevertelling his oldest daughter of their existence. It would have takenless than nothing to send a letter—although that also would havebeen a bastard way to inform one’s child of the existence ofsiblings. Strange also Miss Edirisinghe did not refer to herself asMiss Waller-Mitchell—or even Lady Charuni Waller-Mitchell. Perhapsthings were done differently in Ceylon...or perhaps she suspectedSera knew nothing of her existence and sought to bekind.
