“The man who sired you?” Ruth said gently.
“Yes.” Her hands curled into fists. “Him.”
“I don’t know. I don’t,” Ruth repeated when Joanna’s eyes flashed. “Your mother never shared his name with anyone. Not even your father. After your parents were married, they never spoke of your mother’s time in England ever again. It was as if it never happened.”
“But itdid.” Because she wanted to throw something, Joanna pinned her hands behind her back and started to pace. “It did happen, or else I wouldn’t be here.”
“I understand you’re upset—” Ruth began.
“Upset?” Joanna interrupted. “Upset?I’m upset when Evie beats me in a game of checkers! I’m upset when it rains on a day I’d planned to go walking. This is more than being upset, Grandmother. This is…this is…I don’t know.” She stopped short. Threw her arms wide. “I haven’t a word for it.”
Or maybe she had too many words.
Distress.
Anger.
Confusion.
Betrayal.
Her mother, her father, her grandmother…they had all conspired to keep this from her. Together, they’d buried the truth of who she was. And that pain cut the deepest.
Joanna had been hurt when her father died. Shestillhurt to this day. But this was different. This was…this was dishonesty, and duplicity, and she found it difficult to meet Ruth’s gaze.
“Why now? Why tell me all this now, and not before? Or not at all?” She looked at the painting. But even that, too, felt like a lie. Her parents, their beaming smiles disguising the fact that her mother was already carrying a child. A child that wasnother husband’s.
“Your parents asked for my silence shortly after you were born.” And if the slight tick of a muscle in her jaw was any indication, Ruth had not been overly pleased to give it. “I went along, because it was their choice to make. Over time…over time, it became an easy thing to forget. You are the mirror image of your mother. Sometimes, I catch a glimpse of you out of the corners of my eyes and have to remind myself that you’re not her. And ever since you were a born, you had your father wrapped around your adorable little finger. My son loved all of his daughters. But you, my dear…he always had a special bond with you.” Ruth smiled fondly. “To watch the two of you, peas in a pod, talking about books you’d read and the grand adventures you were going to take together. It was a special thing to behold.”
Which was exactly why Joanna felt flayed to the very bone. Because she did have a special bond with her father. And now to learn he wasn’t her real father…to learn that he’dliedto her all these years…
It was incomprehensible.
“That all being said,” her grandmother went on, “I knew the day you unearthed that ring in the attic we would have this conversation. I hoped that if it could be removed from our keeping, once and for all, the past might finally rest, and your mother’s secret along with it. But now that the ring has been stolen…I am afraid I had no choice but to go against your parents’ wishes and tell you the truth.” She closed her eyes. “I can only hope they forgive me.”
“But what does the ring have to do—wait.” Joanna’s mind flashed to the inscription carved into the band of the ring. An inscription she’d never understood…until this second.
Anne, my love ~JW.
“It was fromhim, wasn’t it?” she demanded.
“Yes.” Ruth gave a clipped nod. “The only remaining clue to the identity of the man with whom your mother had her…liaison.”
Something in her grandmother’s tone gave Joanna pause. “You don’t think…you don’t thinkhestole it, do you?” She couldn’t bring herself to call him her father. Even “sire” sounded wrong, as if she were describing some breeding stallion. She wished she had a name. Instead, all she had were two initials. J and W. Letters that were meaningless without context.
“Or he had it stolen.”
“Are you saying, all these years, he has just been waiting for the ring to resurface?” Joanna gave a short, incredulous shake of her head. “That would be impossible.”
A humorless smile laid claim to Ruth’s lips. “I should think nothing about this situation should be considered impossible. I’d remind you that as we speak, your mother’s ring is on a ship bound for London. That’s an awfully large coincidence, don’t you agree? Added to that, I’ve known Mr. Bernard for nearly three decades. His behavior towards you girls washighlyout of character. I have to wonder if you would have met a similar outcome at every other jeweler in Boston.” She hesitated. “I told you I do not know the identity of your real father, and I don’t. But I’ve long suspected, from little things your mother accidentally shared here and there, that he was a person of great wealth and power. And people of great wealth and power are capable of extraordinary things. Particularly when they wish to acquire something not in their possession.”
Joanna sat back down. It was either that, or slowly fall into a crumpled heap upon the floor. Her mind was still spinning a hundred miles an hour, but her body felt as if she’d just swam ten laps around Boston Harbor.
Her limbs were heavy.
Her mouth was dry.
And her heart…her heartached.
