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Catherine was hysterical, and Morgan knew that no matter what happened to him, he would have justice for her.

"I'm so sorry," she wept. "She is right, I am so awful."

"Do not say that, Catherine. She does not know what she is saying."

"But it is true. That is why you have truly kept me away for so long, is it not?"

"No, it was because of your illness."

"Then let us go out now," she replied. "Take me to the park this instant, for I am no longer unwell."

Morgan shifted uncomfortably, knowing that she had at last realized the true reason for her being kept away.

"Catherine, it is not as simple as that."

"Yes it is. If you are not ashamed of me, and you do not think that I am a burden, then why can I not go outside?"

"Because, I– look, Catherine, I am not ashamed of you. I love you as if you were my own daughter, but it is dangerous for you to enter society. You will meet more people like Lady Annabelle, and they will say unkind things to and about you. Think about how you feel right now. You will feel that way each and every time you step outside. I have kept you away from it all, not because I do not want them to know you but because I want to protect you."

She sat quietly for a minute, sniffling, and Morgan wished that there was more he could say. All that he could truly give her was the truth, and it was not the sort of thing that she deserved to hear.

"Thank you, Uncle Morgan," she said gently. "I do not thank you enough."

"You do not need to."

"Yes I do. You did not have to keep me. You could have sent me away to a children's home. Lady Annabelle told me that."

"What else has she told you?"

"That Aunt Dorothy wanted to send me to one, but I did not believe that. Aunt Dorothy likes me. She is my friend."

"She adores you," he agreed. "Lady Annabelle was lying to you, for she never would have done that."

"I am pleased to hear that, because I really like living here. I wish that I was your daughter, then I could have been like all the other little girls."

"You are like them," he protested. "There is nothing about you that makes you any different to the other children in London. Catherine, I am not going to hide you here for the rest of your life. I only want to be certain that, when you do go out into society, you are ready for what may come your way."

She softened, leaning against him. Morgan did not want any more harm to come to her, as she had already been through more than most adults. He wished that he could shield her from every bad thing that existed.

But he could not, and he had to accept that.

After a while, Dorothy entered. She held herself upright for a while, but then she tumbled onto a chaise, collapsing into a heap.

"Aunt Dorothy?" Catherine asked in shock. "What has happened? Are you all right?"

"I am fine," she replied, unmoving. "That was simply a very long and difficult conversation."

"Where is she?" Morgan asked, and she pulled herself into a sitting position.

"She… well, she will not be bothering us again."

Morgan blinked. She was speaking as though threats had been made, and that she had scared Lady Annabelle away from them altogether, but that was not the lady he knew. Dorothy was not the sort of lady that made such threats as the ones that would have been necessary to make someone as determined as Lady Annabelle leave.

"Is she collecting her belongings?" he asked.

"It would not appear so. I thought you might like to decide what happened with them, for if it were up to me they would all be sold, or perhaps thrown into a fireplace."

He looked at his wife, exhausted from whatever had taken place between herself and Lady Annabelle, and felt a rush of love toward her. He had sworn to protect his family, at any cost, and it was clear that she had done the same. He moved over to her, taking her in his arms.