Page 47 of A Stolen Heart

The Countess looked puzzled. “I don’t understand. I thought you and Miss Ward—I mean, you introduced her to me.”

“Yes, much to my regret. I didn’t know. I had never seen Simone. It never occurred to me that any of this would happen. I took Miss Ward for what she appeared to be. Foolishly, I was the one responsible for introducing her into your life. For making it possible for her to swindle you and break your heart. For that, I will never forgive myself. Countess, don’t you understand? This is all far too fortuitous.”

“Have you no belief in Divine Providence? Sometimes things are meant to happen a certain way. You lose something and then, one day, years and years later, you get it back. Only it is even more special because you know what you have missed.”

“I only want you to be happy,” Thorpe said in a tight voice, not looking at Alexandra.

“Then you have your wish.” The Countess smiled at Alexandra. “I have my granddaughter back.”

“Mother, that locket is not proof that she is Alexandra.”

“I am Alexandra,” Alexandra told Ursula firmly, then looked toward the Countess, her expression softening. “However, my lady, I am not sure that I am your Alexandra. Lady Ursula is right. That locket does not prove that I am your granddaughter. I cannot help but think that I must be related to your Simone in some way, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that I am her daughter.” She told the Countess of her aunt’s suspicions about her birth, adding, “But I could just as easily be the result of a—a liaison between my mother and some relative of Simone’s, a brother or uncle. Or, if I am not my mother’s child, just one she rescued, then I could still be a niece or cousin to your son’s wife, or even someone of low birth, a de Vipont by blood, but born on the wrong side of the blanket.”

The Countess frowned. “I don’t understand. Didn’t your mother tell you anything when she gave you the locket?”

“She did not give it to me. I found it. I tried to speak to her about the matter after you and I talked, but she…could not answer. She is ill.”

“Very convenient, I must say,” Lady Ursula said. “Saves you from having to commit to a story that could be researched and disproved.”

Alexandra looked at the other woman. “My mother’s illness is scarcely a matter of convenience, especially to her. My lady, I harbor no dislike for you. Nor have I any plan to unseat you in the Countess’s affections. Indeed, I am sure that I could not. You are her daughter, I am merely someone she just met. I see no reason we should be at such odds.”

“I’m not so easily gammoned. You are able to speak very prettily, I see that. But that is not enough to convince me.”

“I have no desire to convince you of anything. I don’t want to convince anyone. I only want to find out the truth.”

“I am sure we all do,” the Countess agreed. “My heart already knows it, but it would be better if we could find something the rest of the world will accept. I think the best course would be to talk to Bertie Chesterfield.”

“The man who informed you that your son’s family was killed?”

“Yes. Perhaps he can shed some light on this matter.”

Thorpe made a derisive noise. “Bertie Chesterfield never shed light on anything, including his own mind.”

“He is a shallow and stupid person,” the Countess agreed. “However, he is the only eyewitness we have. I did not ask him any questions at the time. I was capable of little but grieving then. And later, well, I did not really want to know the details of the destruction of my loved ones. But perhaps, if we learned some of the details, we might be able to find out how we got to this point. Sebastian…” The Countess gave Thorpe a look of appeal. “Will you go with Alexandra to visit Bertie? Find out everything you can?”

“You know that I would endure far worse than Chesterfield’s inane chatter for your sake. I am happy to question him. But I see no reason for Miss Ward to accompany me. I am sure I will do much better by myself.”

“Nevertheless,” the Countess said firmly, “I think Alexandra needs to be in attendance.”

“Very well, then.” Thorpe bowed stiffly, shooting a look at Alexandra that would have dropped a person of lesser fortitude. “I shall take Miss Ward with me to Chesterfield’s. I will call on you later to set the date and time, if I may, Miss Ward. In the meantime, Countess, I regretfully must leave you. Several matters need my urgent attention.”

“Of course, my dear.” The Countess nodded to him graciously. She turned to Alexandra, holding out her hand. “Now, come, sit beside me and tell me about yourself. I want to hear all about your life, your home, what you were like as a little girl…oh, everything I’ve missed.”

“Mother, I must protest this folly.”

“Ursula, you are my daughter, and I love you dearly, but if you intend to persist in this tone, I think it would be better if you left the room.” The Countess’s voice was pleasant, but the set of her mouth was firm.

Ursula drew in a breath, her eyes widening. Alexandra thought she was going to explode in a fit of anger, but then she swallowed her rage and folded her hands in her lap. Shooting a venomous look toward Alexandra, she said, “All right, Mother. If that is how you feel.”

She did not leave, but she did sit back, lips pressed together, and watched.

Alexandra turned to the Countess. “But, my lady, what if I am not your granddaughter?”

The Countess smiled. “Then I will have spent a very pleasant hour getting acquainted with an interesting woman.”

Alexandra sat down beside her with a smile, and they began to talk.

IT WAS MORE THAN AN HOUR LATER when Alexandra finally left the house, so she was surprised to find Lord Thorpe standing beside his carriage, arms folded across his chest, looking thunderous. It irritated her that she could not suppress a little thrill at the sight of him. Whatever was the matter with her? The man was a toad, and by rights she ought to be disgusted by the sight of him.