Page 66 of Forever Her Bachelor

The sight of his father in such a state shocked St. Clara. He hadn’t seen the man happy since his daughter’s white-blonde hair proved that Amelia was indeed the natural daughter of the previous Marquess of Heartford.

The image of his mother froze St. Clara in place—her kind face, high cheekbones, thin lips, and eyes that matched his inboth shape and color. Those rich brown eyes stared back at him, seeing through him and revealing his shame.

He had failed his mother, allowing her to die without ever seeing her son again. St. Clara could feel the tears threatening to free themselves as he remembered the letters she had sent him over the years. He had refused them, returning each one unopened.

“Your Grace … Your Grace.” Mrs. Morris called his name, sounding so far away from him.

He couldn’t stop staring at his mother’s likeness. That portrait was the last time either one of his parents were ever happy.

A hand on his forearm had him blinking back to the present where he was met by the hazel eyes he had dreamed of for years.

His wife had set down Newton, who now was limping around the entryway. His slight hobble was proof of his heroics in the face of danger.

“Mrs. Morris will have a meal prepared for us,” Pippa said, her hand gripping his arm.

He could feel her support and wanted to pull her into him and absorb her strength that he so desperately needed.

Being inside the castle again conjured up parts of his past that he had tried to forget. St. Clara had never questioned his father’s decision to ostracize his mother and sister. He never once argued with him or tried to see them. He accepted everything his father told him without fail, but now, staring up into the kind eyes of Charlotte Bennett, the former Duchess of St. Clara, his guilt told him that he had been wrong.

CHAPTER 20

Dear Chauncey,

You could never betray anyone. You’re the most loyal person I’ve ever known. Perhaps you should speak to your mother and learn the truth for yourself. No matter what happens, I will always be by your side.

Yours,

Kitten (The Chemist)

Pippa awoke with her husband’s body wrapped around hers. He clung to her like he was afraid to release her even in his dreams. She had seen how vulnerable he had been when they’d arrived at Archer Castle the previous night. After surviving one of the most horrifying events of her life, she wanted nothing more than to comfort Chauncey and hold him close forever.

There was only one problem: she couldn’t stop thinking of Maggie and the day that had changed Pippa’s life.

Hearing Randall beg Chauncey to find the maid sparked Pippa’s memory to that bleak day nine years earlier.

She wasn’t sure if there were two Maggies employed in the duke’s household staff during that time, but the probability seemed too low to imagine.

After Pippa had run out of the duke’s parlor to the comfort of her own home, she’d cried, her sixteen-year-old heart broken into a million tiny pieces. Sleeping and staying in her rooms for months did nothing to protect her from the truth that the boy she had trusted more than anything wasn’t the person she thought he was.

The Chauncey she knew would have never had taken advantage of one of his servants, leaving her alone and with child. That wasn’t the type of man Pippa had thought him to be.

Over the years, she learned that some gentlemen did behave in such a way. However, she would not have expected it from Chauncey, Chauncey who had vowed to be hers in every way imaginable. It didn’t matter to Pippa’s young heart that they weren’t a love match.

Now as an adult, Pippa thought they very much may have been.

She’d tried to forget about Maggie over the years. Recently she had wondered if Chauncey would ever mention the maid. She had never seen Maggie again, not until …

An image from a fortnight ago came to her, the same hair color that had haunted her for years.

Pippa sat up abruptly, shocking Chauncey, who was still sleeping soundly. “What is it?” he asked, sitting up as he rubbed at his sleep-filled eyes.

Not able to hold it in any longer, she whispered the name that weighed heavy on her heart, “Maggie.” Pippa stood and began pacing back and forth in her chemise. “I think I know where she is.”

The day at the orphanage played over in her mind. She would know that hair color anywhere. It was unique after all, a colorPippa had never seen before on another person. She wasn’t certain if the woman she saw that day at the orphanage was indeed the former maid, but somehow Pippa knew she was.

He stood, wearing nothing but his shirtsleeves, rushing over to her. “How do you even know about Maggie? You never met her.” His brows were furrowed, his arms folded, causing his shirt to rise slightly, revealing his long legs.

“I did meet her.” Pippa looked him in the eyes, wanting to know the truth after nine years.