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“My word, she looks just like Marie,” Therese Beckwith exclaimed, resplendent in what was no doubt the latest Paris fashion. She clutched Ellise’s hand. “Marie was your mother,” she added by way of explanation.

Theran had thought Purity looked familiar too, and now that she was in the same room as her uncles, he understood why. There was a distinct family resemblance—mainly the eye and hair color.

Paul came forward, his hands outstretched, a wide smile arching his mouth. “Purity. Words cannot express how delighted I am that we are finally meeting.”

He gave her a peck on the cheek.

Toliver did the same. “We were astonished and so happy to recently learn you’d survived the fire.”

Appearing rather dazed, Purity managed a tremulous smile.

“Purity, have a seat beside me.” Mother patted the settee, and Purity offered a grateful upward sweep of her mouth.

Theran went to stand beside his brother, who gave him a searching look. Jordan had always been able to read Theran. He probably already knew Theran was heads over tail for Purity.

Paul and Toliver resumed their seats.

“To think, we have had a detective searching all of England for you, and here you are, right next door,” Therese said.

“I wrote you a few weeks ago. Sent the letter to Petherwick Court.” Paul leaned forward. “Didn’t you receive my letter?”

Purity accepted the cup of tea Mother offered her. “I’m afraid not, my lord.”

“None of that.” He waved a hand. “You must call me Uncle Paul.”

“Absolutely,” Toliver agreed, beaming. “We don’t stand on formality in this family.”

“I recently changed employers, and I can only assume your letter was lost in the forwarding.” Purity took a sip of tea.

Theran would wager that bugger Ceddes had something to do with the letter’s disappearance.

“Ah,” Paul said. “Well, as I explained in the letter, your father, Clarence, named me your guardian. He was two years younger than me and a year older than Toliver.” Paul took a drink of his tea. “Your parents died in a fire, but your nurse managed to get you out. She took you to our father.”

His features folded into a disgusted expression.

“Our father never approved of Clarence marrying a commoner,” Toliver put in. “We have surmised he sent you to the foundling home where you were raised and told us you’d perished as well.”

“How did you find me?” Purity asked.

Paul scratched his forehead. “When I came into the title a few months ago, my man of affairs and I were inspecting the ledgers. We noticed annual payments to Haven House and Academy for the Enrichment of Young beginning shortly after the fire. They continued for several years. I became suspicious and hired an investigator.”

“Who contacted Mrs. Shepherd.” Purity set her cup down with only the merest rattle. A wan half-smile curved her mouth. “I only just read Mrs. Shepherd’s letter today.”

Paul lifted a shoulder. “So you are aware of the inquiry and her participation, though she was ignorant of my father’s nefarious scheme.”

“Yes.” Purity looked at each of her uncles and aunts in turn. “It is a lot to take in.”

“We would like to invite you to tea tomorrow, Purity,” her Aunt Ellise said, then puzzled her brow. “Or would you prefer to be called Caroline now? That is your given name. Caroline Aimee Beckwith.”

No, she’s Purity.

Purity shook her head. “I’ve been Purity for as long as I can recall.”

“Very good,” Paul said. “Purity it is then.”

“As Ellise was saying, we’d love for you to come to tea tomorrow and meet your cousins.” Therese’s eyes twinkled. “You have nine. Toliver and I have five children, and Paul and Ellise four. They range in age from fifteen to three and thirty.”

“I should like that.” Purity relaxed against the settee and offered her first genuine smile. “Very much.”