Page 23 of Miss Hawthorne’s Unlikely Husband (The Troublemakers Trilogy #3)

What concerned Elodia was her father. Had that rumor spread despite him or because of him?

Had he allowed the misunderstanding to spread?

Had he spread it himself? Or was it simply a truth he’d kept from her all her life?

There was one way to answer at least one of those questions.

She knew where he kept important documents.

There was a safe in his office. If she could guess the password and look inside, no doubt the answers would be there.

He would have had documentation drawn up of her birth and his marriage to her mother before leaving Trinidad.

She waited until her father was out and snuck down to his study.

No one took notice of her, or if they did, they didn’t question her entering his study.

It took two tries for her to guess the password.

Her birthday, April 18 th . Within the iron box she found sketches of her mother, some with shorter hair, some as Elodia remembered her, braids and curls and always a flower.

Some were visibly older than others. Did he still sketch her?

She found piles of letters, some wrapped in ribbons and some in twine.

Correspondence between her parents, deeds, sketches, and… nothing.

Nothing.

There was nothing there to prove she was legitimate.

Nothing to prove her belief that her mother had been his wife.

How was that possible? Frantically, she tore through the letters, searching for answers, a mention, anything.

They were beautiful and tender, showing their blossoming romance, but nothing of their marriage.

The letters stopped three years before her birth.

Was it because they had married? Or was it because she had merely moved into his residence as his mistress?

If they had married then why on earth wouldn’t he have brought proof of it, knowing that she was dead and couldn’t say either way?

Why bring Elodia with him to England if he was going to leave the memory of her mother behind?

Her eyes began to sting as they fell on the charcoal sketch her father had made of her mother.

She looked happy there. She looked loved.

Had he ever really loved her? Had it been a convenience that she had died when she did?

“Mama,” Elodia whispered, her fingers tracing the lines.

What had he done to her? Locking her away in a safe without a shred of dignity.

What had he done to both of them? With trembling hands, she rewrapped the letters and put them back into the safe with the sketches.

Then, with tears blurring her vision, she closed the door and returned to her room.

How much of it had been lies? How could he seem so sincere and be so callous?

How could he take such pains to preserve her mother in that safe but allow others to treat her memory so carelessly?

It would have been so easy to correct the assumption and yet he’d never done so.

Now that she was thinking of it, his actions had always stopped short of what would have truly legitimized her among the ton.

He’d given her his last name, he’d raised her publicly as his daughter but he’d never presented her at court or shown legal proof of her legitimacy.

He’d never married, since her mother’s death, but he’d never legally registered their marriage either within the estate.

That would have proved that he had done more than betray his race, but his class as well by risking a black heir inheriting his title.

A title that used to own people who looked like her.

Back in her room, she sank into a chair, suddenly exhausted beyond measure.

A bitter laugh escaped her. Her father’s love had always been her sanctuary.

It had seemed as limitless as the ocean her mother loved so much.

Now Elodia knew the truth. That ocean was a lake.

Large to be sure but limited. Cruelly limited.

The next few days passed in a blur. She didn’t want sunlight, food or to speak to a living soul.

Then, when Béa threatened to tell her father she was ill, she agreed to bathe and take a meal, but she still wouldn’t go downstairs.

This morning, Béa had heavily suggested that she should leave her room.

After all, it was a ‘perfect day with just the right amount of sun and wind’ according to Béa.

Who could object to that after all? So she’d dressed in the white linen dress her maid had prepared and taken herself to the garden to lounge on the chaise nearest the oak tree. It was a reasonable compromise.

The idea of having to face her father and pretend that she didn’t know what she knew about him was unconscionable.

She could not reconcile the white plantation owner who could only love those he deemed lesser if no one important witnessed it with the man who had raised her and seemingly devoted himself to her and her mother.

What could she say? How could she react to the affection he was all too likely to give her when she knew it was mixed with shame?

What would she do if he threw away that facade and she had to deal with him as she feared he would be?

Callous, dismissive and selfish to the core.

Leaving the house seemed equally impossible.

How could she face society on her own knowing the person who afforded her her position had only partly claimed her and all of them knew?

It was humiliating to think that all the time she’d been leaning on him and trusting him, he had never fully supported her.

That they had all been too aware of the limits of his love and her acceptance.

Of course, she had only been partly accepted by them; she barely had a claim to their circle as it was.

She didn’t know what was more insulting, if he’d allowed the ton to believe she was illegitimate or if he had actually refused to marry her mother in all the years they had spent together.

If he had known he was to be a father and had chosen to relegate her to the shame of bastardry rather than go against the expectations of his social position and race then he was a coward, but if she was legitimate and his marriage to her mother was true and legal, then his refusal to admit it was more than cowardly, it was hypocritical and cruel.

She was too afraid to ask him for answers when any of them would break her heart and leave her more alone than she’d ever been in her life.

And Ada and Regina… they would normally be her second haven outside of her father.

Her dearest friends, the ones who had never treated her with anything but love and acceptance, had only just managed to attain the level of social security Elodia had enjoyed her whole life.

For them to associate with her would only bring disgrace now, when before, in her mind at least, it had been an honor.

If she told them the truth, they would choose her but at what cost?

Could she truly ask them to choose between her and their hard-won happiness?

If she was as true a friend as they were then she would simply remove herself and allow time to weaken those bonds before severing them entirely.

If she was going to be alone then she would need to get used to it quickly instead of constantly looking for others to hide behind.

Her inheritance would, at the very least, ensure that she did not live in squalor, that was more than most could boast. Her father had, at the very least, afforded her that security.

The world was big enough for her even if England was not.

They would be cross at first, even hurt, but in the end they would move on from her.

And the hole in her heart would heal. It was only a matter of time and opportunity.

She faintly heard someone calling out her name. Ada and Regina. They were here. It had taken more than a few days for them to come, but she couldn’t help but wish for more time. She closed her eyes and refused to move. Let them think she was sleeping; with any luck, they would go away.

“Ellie?” A hand touched her shoulder then shook it with some force.

Not a chance of them giving up then. She blinked open her eyes and squinted up at them. “Ada? Gigi, what are you doing here?”

Regina raised one eyebrow and crossed her arms above her burgeoning stomach. “What do you think? You left so upset and it’s been days now with nothing.”

“I’m fine, I’ve only been resting. I’ve been tired lately.”

“So you’ve been resting?” Ada repeated dubiously.

“Yes. Is that allowed?”

There was a silence and she looked away from them to the grass, the tree branches, anything but their hurt expressions. She was turning into a horrible person. They were here out of concern and all she could do was take out her anger on them.

“I’m glad that you were able to get some rest,” Ada said, her tone cooler than usual. “We’ll leave you to it.”

“Ada,” Regina hissed, and she heard an indistinguishable exchange behind her. Then, “Ask her.”

“No.”

“Adelaide Thompson, I did not come here to—”

“What is it?” Elodia turned around to look at them.

“It’s no matter,” Ada replied, glaring at Regina whose hands were firmly rested on her hips.

“What are you whispering about then?”

“Nothing you need concern yourself with, go back to your ‘rest’,” Ada replied before turning on her heel to walk away. Regina hooked her arm and pulled her back.

“You stop it this moment,” Regina scolded before turning to Elodia. “We wanted to invite you to something, but I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“What event?” Lord, that was just what she needed.

“It’s an evening thing, Richard is finally allowing me to host something at Thornfield House.”

“You’ve been doing so much for us. If it’s too much then we should leave you be for now.” Regina smiled at her and she somehow felt worse than before. They didn’t deserve this.

She sat up and smiled weakly. “Oh, who will be there?”

“A small circle.”

“Smaller than a ball but larger than a dinner party.”

“Oh.” It wasn’t horrible, although the last thing she needed was to be surrounded by people who thought she was a bastard, but at the same time, more people meant more anonymity. It was next to impossible to go missing in a small group.

“Ellie, did something happen between you and Richard?” Ada huffed and flopped down beside Elodia’s legs on the chaise.

“Why are you asking me that?” Elodia asked in alarm.

“I’m not blind. I know how much you’ve always cared for him and I have noticed the change in the both of you.”

“What change?” Oh God, had it been obvious to everyone?

Regina sat on the other side of her legs and rested a hand on her knee. “Ellie, I know we have not been as available to you as we normally are and I apologize—”

“—Don’t,” she blurted out. “Don’t apologize for being happy.” Elodia already felt like a fraud; the last thing she needed to be was a bitter curmudgeon as well.

“I thought you knew that we were and always would be a friend to you,” Regina said. “But now it seems you need to be reminded of the fact.”

“What are you talking about?”

Ada huffed. “You are sad about something, and for some reason, you have elected to deny us the opportunity to be there for you.”

“After you were there for us on multiple occasions, no less,” Regina scolded.

“Indeed.”

“That was different,” Elodia said, wishing her voice didn’t sound so juvenile.

“How exactly?” Ada asked.

“Because it wasn’t due to anything you’d done.” She was a coward, but if they already believed her behavior was due to Richard, then there was no reason to expend energy to disprove it. It was half true in any event.

“Something we’ve done?” Regina shared a glance with Ada before they both took her hands in theirs.

“So you did tell him.” There wasn’t a question in Ada’s voice.

“I did. He… he didn’t want me.”

“Oh, Ellie, I’m so sorry.” Regina frowned, sympathy painted all over her face.

“How did you know?” Elodia asked them.

Regina shrugged. “Little things over the years, certain looks,”

“It was the smiles for me,” Ada added. “You couldn’t know how you smile when he is with you, or when you spoke of him.”

“Oh…” She supposed she should be grateful that Ada wasn’t upset. Somehow, she only felt silly for believing herself to be discreet.

“Frankly, I’m surprised he didn’t know before,” Ada added.

“Oh God,” Elodia buried her face in her hands.

“I am sorry it didn’t go the way you wanted it to. I should have liked nothing better than you as a sister-in-law.” Ada rubbed Elodia’s arm.

“It’s so annoying that Leo doesn’t have a cousin,” Ada joked.

Elodia couldn’t help but laugh at that, lifting her face from her hands. “Indeed. Anyone on your mother’s side, Gigi?”

“Would you want to live in India?” she asked.

“Maybe I would.” It was far away from Richard and her father. “Perhaps you can visit with Leo, make a family trip out of it. I can try my luck.”

“I know you’re joking, but I don’t hate the idea.” It would get her out of England. She could start over and create a good name for herself.

“And that is the reason you’ve decided to hide away?” Ada said, watching her closely.

For a moment, she considered saying the rest. That she was illegitimate. That her father was a cad and a liar. That she didn’t know how to make sense of her childhood. That her entire life felt upended. “Yes.” She couldn’t do it.

“Truly, Ellie?” Regina asked.

She nodded. “I’ve been trying to get past it but it just got to be too much, especially seeing as my attempts to marry this season have been met with practically no results.”

“Richard told me about that.”

“I could skin Mr. Crispin Lewis alive.” Regina fumed, shaking her head. “You should have seen him, Ada.”

“What did he say?”

“He implied that Elodia was almost good enough to marry. Almost.”

“What a jackass.”

“Ada!” Elodia blurted in shock before giggling. Between marriage and motherhood, Ada had certainly become more straightforward.

“Well, more fool him,” Ada said with a decisive nod.

“Indeed,” Regina agreed.

“It was a bit demoralizing,” Elodia conceded. “Do you still think I should come to your gala?”

“Yes. But because you hid from us instead of trusting us, you now owe me two performances on the piano before you can hide away from the guests.”

Elodia laughed and nodded in agreement before allowing herself to be caught up in a three way hug that almost soothed the ache in her heart.

No matter what, near or far, she would always have Ada and Regina.

No matter who else fell short, these two friends would always be the ones that would stay close and true.

In time, she would tell them the truth and deal with the rest as it came.

For them, she could and would do anything, even put up with the ton when she would rather stay at home and lick her wounds.