Page 89 of Forgotten No More

“If I hadn’t sought out the marquis, I would have never known the joys of motherhood—and Angus never the fulfillment of fatherhood. A thing he deserved more than any man.”

“But…” The right question evaded her. “You loved him. How could you betray him so?”

“Betray him?” her mother asked. “You think I betrayed him by doing exactly as he encouraged me to do? Our love was strong, so strong in fact that I longed to give him everything. And everything he ever wanted was you.”

“Me?” She knew she sounded senseless, incapable of a complete thought.

“Oh, yes.” Her mother glanced at Harold and Ellie by the door. Both stood motionless and quiet, as if they too waited for the words they knew were coming. “He wanted a child, an heir. Unfortunately, he got an heiress—which he loved just as much as if she’d been born a male… And in the process, I fell in love with another man. Even with all this, I loved Angus greatly. Love him still. But a woman’s heart is fickle.” Her words were meant for Harold, Ruby had no doubt.

Ruby glanced at Harold, but his eyes were downcast, as if not seeking to intrude on their private conversation while still lending Ruby his support. Her heart swelled. Could she betray a man she loved to give him something he truly wanted, even knowing it could jeopardize all they had together?

The answer was simple: yes.

Would she have gone about giving him all in the same manner her mother had? No.

But she did understand it.

And she grieved for her mother and the loss of her love.

“If any man was deserving of all a woman’s love, your father was—Sir St. Augustin was a man above all men. I know I broke his heart, but I also returned it in the form of a child. He loved you with all his heart and treated you as his own, even though his blood did not run through your veins.”

“Why did you not try to mend your relationship after my birth?” Ruby asked. “If he loved you before, he could love you again.”

Bitter laughter filled the room, and Ruby flinched at its cruel sound. “There were many hurtful words spoken that made the possibility of forgiveness impossible.”

“What words?” She searched for anything she could say to Harold to make him abandon her, but thought of naught. With all she’d already said, he had never left her side.

“Before your birth I agreed to leave you with him, as long as he would allow me to live with the marquis. We would both be happy. He would have his child, and I would be with a man who inspired so much passion I was weak at the knees only thinking of him.”

But things had gone very wrong. Her mother’s journal detailed every heartache, every tear, every day of longing.

“And since your father loved me so, he agreed without a moment’s hesitation. Sadly, Drake would not have me—claimed he never loved me and that his heart was consumed with another.”

As Ruby stared hard at the woman, waiting for more, needing to hear every word, Harold stepped up and produced a pocket square. It was only then that she noticed the tears streaming from her mother’s eyes, mirroring her own. Never in her life had she felt this close and connected to the woman.

“Did you ever think to be honest with me?” Ruby asked. “After my father’s death, or once I grew to majority? It is a mother’s duty to guide her child, inform her of the perils of life.” She’d had no one to fill that role. No one with whom to talk of love and life and the future, except Vi.

Pearl’s head dropped as she continued to dab at her face. “I had hoped the need would never come. You were never meant to see London. I’d hoped you would never give your heart to a man. And I never wanted you to experience the loss of a child or a lover. But I find—” she glanced to Harold, “—I am too late.”

Were her feelings so clear to others—even a mother who’d spent more time away from her child than with? Ruby herself barely recognized her own emotional state.

“Do not look so puzzled, my dear,” her mother chided. “I may have more mistakes in my past than anything, but I am not—and never have been—lacking in sense. You love this man…and I must say, your father would be proud. Both Drake and St. Augustin could not have chosen a more suitable match.”

“Mrs. St.—”

Pearl turned to Harold. “Do not try to deny your love for my daughter.”

“I would never dream of doing that,” Harold said.

“I expect you to never forsake your love for her,” her mother continued.

“I am right here—” Ruby started.

“There is not a thing further from my mind,” he said seriously.

“And I expect you to show her to the world—not keep her hidden—as I did,” her mother said sternly.

“I am in no need of your interference, Mother.”