Page 26 of The Captain’s Valentine (The “Other” Trents #3)
Upon his arrival at the Marquess of Felding’s home, Harrison was directed to the parlor where Perdita stood. Seated was her sister, Lady Felding. Beside a window, in a chair and at the fireplace were her brothers Demetrius, Benedick and Orlando.
“All we are asking is that you give yourself a chance to know them,”
Demetrius was saying.
“That is my intention.”
“Yes, but you are approaching this as if you are going to have tea with a recent acquaintance with no intention of furthering a friendship, let alone a relationship with the family you were born to,”
Orlando argued.
“Perhaps I am not yet convinced that is who they are.”
“The Duke of Clare insists,”
Benedick reminded her.
“He could be hopeful and this might also be a mistake.”
“They can open a world to you that we cannot,”
Lady Felding offered.
“I will not pretend to be their sister if I am not no matter what I may gain,”
Perdita insisted. “Further, I am not interested in a wider world.”
“You do not even know what you have missed or been denied,”
Benedick argued.
“As I am happy with my lot in life, then what I did not have was not necessary.”
“You have always been happy with what came your way. Be happy about this as well,”
Lady Felding insisted.
“I am certain that I will be, but I am in no rush to fully embrace strangers.”
Harrison could not understand what they were arguing about, or why there was even one. Had Perdita decided not to visit His Grace and her sister?
“Have you changed your mind?”
he finally asked.
“No,”
Perdita answered as she turned. “It is still my intention to call on the Duke of Clare and I have sent word to expect the both of us.”
That was really all he was entitled to know and simply nodded.
“Shall we?”
“Of course.”
Harrison escorted her from the parlor and to the entry where a maid waited with a bonnet, which Perdita put on and tied the ribbon beneath her chin, then she allowed him to escort her to the walk. He glanced behind to note that the maid followed. They had never had a chaperone before.
Was it because she was now the sister to a duke, not that it should matter. Any miss, or lady who remained unwed, should have a chaperone.
“Their home is not so far and I would prefer to walk,”
Perdita suggested.
“I have no objection.”
He then offered his arm. “Were you arguing with your siblings?”
“I am not so certain that we were.”
She paused and frowned. “They were trying to make me realize what a blessing it is to have been born to such a family, as if what I had before was of no significance.”
“Maybe they fear you will suffer from guilt if you choose to embrace your new family when they have been your siblings since you were an infant,”
he suggested. “They were giving you permission and assuring you they will not be hurt if you spend more time with them.”
Perdita blew out a sigh. “I suppose, but I am also not yet convinced that I am who they think I am.”
She stopped and turned to him. “You know how many orphans there are in London. What if that woman in the alley was my mother? What if she was killed because she was fleeing my father? Just because I may resemble the Duke of Clare’s sister does not mean that I am the missing twin.”
Harrison stared into Perdita’s blue eyes but could not tell if she was afraid for it to be true or not. Either way, he understood her proceeding with caution.
“We will visit, have tea and maybe after you have met the sister, you will have your answers and be able to determine what you wish to do next.”
She give a swift nod and they continued walking, saying nothing until they stopped before the door to the Duke of Clare’s mansion in Mayfair. Harrison waited to knock until Perdita gave a nod, which came after she took a deep breath then blew it out.
When the door opened, a butler stared down his nose, most likely developed from working in a ducal household, but when he saw Perdita, his composure slipped for the briefest of moments, then he stepped back and opened the door wider so that they could enter.
“This way. They are awaiting your arrival.”
He had not even asked their name. How much did Perdita truly resemble Clare’s sister?
Perdita blew out another sigh as they followed the butler down a corridor and into a bright white and blue drawing room. He stepped aside without even announcing them.
The first person he saw was the Duke of Clare. The next, an older woman who came to her feet, and Harrison assumed she was his mother, then finally, the twin sister. Any doubts Perdita may have entertained were likely just erased.
If the woman before her did not have a small scar on the side of her cheek, Perdita would have thought she was looking in a mirror. Their hair and eyes were the same color, the noses the same…every single feature and coloring was identical.
“It is her!”
She turned to find an older woman drop into a chair, a hand on her chest. The Duke of Clare rushed to her side.
Goodness, Perdita hoped that she hadn’t caused her to have a heart episode.
“I never thought…I know what you told me…I…we searched for so long.”
She then drew up her spine and lifted her chin, setting aside any slight loss of composure. “I did not dare hope, or even believe that Conor had truly found you, Cara.”
Was this her mother? Perdita never had one before and was not certain what to think.
“I am Niamh Gallagher, Duchess of Clare, your mother.”
Perdita dropped to a curtsey and rose.
“I am Cadla,”
the woman who looked just like Perdita said as she came forward. “Thank you.”
“What did I do?”
“You cared for Oliver. I was so worried…so afraid that…”
“He would be lost to you forever?”
Perdita finished.
“As we thought you were,”
Her Grace said with censure.
Was there no warmth to the woman who had given birth to her?
Though, she should not truly be surprised. She had been around enough people of rank and title this Season to know that they could be imperious, arrogant and colder than those raised with less privilege and opportunities.
“Yes…well…he is a delightful little boy.”
What else did she say?
“It is good to see you again, Captain Trent,”
Her Grace offered with a clipped tone that was in opposition to her words. “Thank you for bringing Lady Cara to us.”
“It was my pleasure, Your Grace.”
Yet, neither she nor Clare offered to introduce Harrison to Cadla, so Perdita did so, and the silence stretched between them.
What did she say to any of them? How did she even act? They were strangers.
Perdita sank down into a chair. It could no longer be denied. She was the lost twin of the Duke of Clare, the father she would never meet, and had been named Cara Gallagher at birth.
“Pour her some tea, Conor,”
Her Grace ordered.
“Do you take anything in it?”
Perdita could only manage to shake her head. She had never liked cream in her tea and sugar was too precious to use.
“Cadla does not like anything in her tea either,”
His Grace said with a polite smile.
Perdita hoped that the visit was not spent comparing what she and Cadla had in common and what was different.
“Conor explained to us how you became Perdita Valentine and we intend to reward the vicar and his wife handsomely for caring for you all these years.”
Her Grace smiled as if she expected Perdita to be pleased with her decision.
Perdita frowned. “They do not want a reward. They took care of me out of love.”
“They shall have one anyway. I am certain that a monetary gift will help improve their circumstances.”
All she could do was stare at the woman.
“I need to thank them in the best way that I know how.”
Yes, the rich always assumed that money resolved any difficulty even when there was not one.
“A simple thank you would suffice.”
“Not from me it would not.”
Perdita pulled back at the harsh tone and as she did not know Her Grace well enough to argue, she decided to hold her tongue. This was a world with which she was not acquainted. From the plush rugs on the floor to the paintings on the wall, this room spoke of wealth. More wealth than her aunt and uncle would see in a lifetime. But that didn’t mean that they wanted a monetary thank you.
“I am glad that we found you before the Season came to an end,”
Her Grace announced.
“Why?”
Perdita asked slowly.
“So that we can hold a ball to introduce you properly,”
she explained as if the question should not have been necessary.
Perdita shook her head even before she spoke. “That is not necessary.”
“Of course it is,”
Her Grace insisted and Perdita was certain that what was left unsaid was that she could not have expected to know better. “We want all of Society to know that you have been found.”
“It is not something that I would find comfortable,”
Perdita argued, but politely.
Yes, she enjoyed balls and dancing and all manner of Societal entertainments. But before she was only the sister of the Marchioness of Felding, not the missing daughter of a duke. In fact, she would rather nobody knew until she became used to the idea.
“It is necessary,”
Her Grace’s tone indicated that she would accept no agreement and caused a sizzle of irritation in Perdita’s belly.
“It will be held before Society returns to the country for the summer.”
But she did not want a ball, yet it appeared that she was not being given a choice.
“We have also seen that a set of rooms has been prepared for you,”
she continued.
“A set of rooms?”
Did they expect her to move in?
“Even though I feared to hope that you had truly been found, I also wanted to be prepared. They are directly across the hall from Cadla’s so the two of you can become close.”
“I am not moving in, Your Grace,”
Perdita finally said.
The duchess’s eyes flared before they narrowed on Perdita. “Of course you are. This is your home.”
“No. It is not. My home is with my sister, when in London, or with my aunt and uncle.”
“That was before,”
Her Grace dismissed with a wave of her hand. “You have us now.”
“I also have a family that I was raised with. The Valentines.”
“Yes, I am certain you will always be fond of them, but they are not truly your family, now are they?”
They were, she wanted to argue. But…were they? “Perhaps in time,”
Perdita finally answered. “For now, I will remain where I am.”
“Cara, you are my daughter and here is where you belong.”
At least her tone had softened some.
“I do not, Your Grace.”
She was not going to allow this woman to dictate her life even if she was a duchess and her mother. “With all due respect, you are a stranger to me. All of you are. I only learned yesterday where I came from. I cannot simply change my life and leave the only family I have ever known to move into the home of the family that I just met.”
Her mother pulled back as if slapped. “I thought you would be grateful…overjoyed…to learn where you came from. To learn who you truly are.”
“I know who I am. It does not matter my name or title. It does not change me.”
“Who is that?”
Cadla asked.
“An independent woman of three and twenty who enjoys her position at Westbrook House caring for foundling children.”
“That must come to an end. No daughter of mine will toil in employment…a servant…or in trade.”
She spoke with such distaste that Perdita was immediately offended. How dare she judge her or where she preferred to be, as if working made her less.
Perdita may believe that she should be happy with her lot in life, but that did not mean she could not decide which lot she wanted when her circumstances changed and given a choice, and she was not going to allow someone who she just met to tell her what was expected.
“I am sorry if you do not approve, but I am not willing to give up a position I very much enjoy.”
“If you wish to support Westbrook House, I will see that they receive generous donations.”
Did Her Grace truly believe that money was the answer to everything? “I am there because I want to be. I enjoy the work and the children.”
“Yes, but if you wed, you would have children of your own to care for.”
Did she intend to marry her off? “I am not betrothed, Your Grace, nor am I being courted.”
The woman who was her mother arched a brow and stared at Harrison.
“He is a very dear friend.”
“That is all well and good and he is also a friend of your brother. However, it is past the time you should have wed and once we announce your return at the ball, no doubt eligible bachelors will be lining up on our doorstep as they did when Cadla was introduced.”
This was more than she could endure.
Perdita set her cup of tea aside and stood. “I thank you for the tea, Your Grace. However, you need to understand that I will not change anything about my life. I will continue to work at Westbrook House. I will not be matched with the bachelor you choose and I will not wed without love. If you insist on having a ball, I cannot guarantee that I will be present. However, if you wish to get to know who I am, what I like and dislike without telling me where I will live or what I will do, I will be happy to join you for tea again. But, if you insist on dictating my life, I fear that we will become estranged.”
Then, without a backward glance, she marched out of the drawing room, down the corridor and did not wait for the butler to open the door but did so herself and stepped out onto the walk. Only then did she breathe.