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“If I’d known—”

“It doesn’t matter.” His gaze held hers, deepening his words.

But it did, didn’t it?

She looked back at the door as if it was at fault. They’d spent a honeymoon tour enjoying the financial freedom her dowry provided only to be confronted with the very real possibility they’d lost a third of the promised funds.

Havensbrooke was Frederick’s ancestral home and the place his heart loved. The place that needed continued repairs her money was supposed to provide as part of the marriage contract.

“Grace.” He pulled her attention back to him with a word. “It’s not about the money any longer, darling. We will sort through this.”

His fingers wrapped around hers, and she squeezed his hand, garnering a bit of courage from his beautifully romantic declaration. The stinging in her eyes produced moisture, but to her wonderful surprise, she kept from sobbing, although she felt a few tears slip down her cheeks.

She’d not doubted Frederick’s affection since their first few weeks together, but his legacy and home held amazing power. Could their love prove stronger than all that family history he so often warred against?

She sniffled, took his welcomed handkerchief, and pushed away the doubt.

“Why didn’t Father tell me about all of this?

I should have known.” And then her mind replayed Lillias’ responses from the week before their wedding.

The little comments about Father “being ruined” if the wedding didn’t go ahead.

Lillias’ dismissiveness regarding Grace’s ability to understand the financial ramifications of the wedding for their whole family.

Another blow hit her. Lillias had known too.

“They’d known all along, Frederick.” The declaration burst from her.

“How had I not seen it? The entire marriage contract and the race to find my sister a groom had not been to gain a title at all.” She shook her head, another tear cooling her cheek.

“It had been to secure Lillias’ future so that if his finances crumbled, she’d be cared for. ”

With all the mysteries she’d read and even solved, how had she been blind to the one closest to her heart?

“Grace,” he spoke her name like a caress again and drew her gaze back to his, a grounding to her.

“You weren’t a part of the initial marriage contract.

I can only suppose your father thought it better to keep your mind free of the burden.

” His lips gentled into a small smile. “And he likely feared, with your forthright nature, you’d confess it all to me and then the marriage would not have happened at all. ”

Because if she had confessed what she knew, Frederick would have never signed the contract to marry Lillias—and then defaulted to marry her when it was discovered that Lillias was already pregnant with Anthony Dixon’s child.

The very idea of never having married her darling Frederick nearly sent tears raining with more passion.

Was this what the Bible meant about God working all things together for good?

Her marriage to Frederick had certainly turned out for good, but all the choices leading up to it seemed rather suspect and …

manipulative. She forced a hard swallow and gathered her wits about her.

Surely she could gather her wayward emotions in the knowledge God wasn’t worried about this madness.

And—her gaze flitted back to the touring car—she was a mother now. Perhaps not in a conventional way, but in a way that counted nonetheless. So she had to exhibit a bit more motherly control.

“I’m sorry for you, Frederick. How this may change our plans for Havens—”

“Grace.” He leaned forward, catching her gaze. “At this very moment, Havensbrooke is not at the foremost of my thoughts. You are, and whatever”—he waved toward the house—”is going on with your father.”

She attempted to offer him a smile. Things could be much worse, couldn’t they?

Surely this was nothing like a betrayal in a Shakespeare tragedy or something like poor Edmund Dantès in The Count of Monte Cristo.

No. She had Frederick and Havensbrooke and even a lovely new daughter.

It was highly unlikely the solicitor meant to send her to an island prison for fourteen years!

She raised her chin, her mind clearing a little with this relief. “Father must have used whatever funds he had left to pay the first two thirds of my dowry. How could I not have known?”

“Well, his actions are interpreted with more clarity in this light,” Frederick offered. “His devastation at the possible loss of the contract when Lillias’ pregnancy was discovered.”

A truth which still stung, especially when voiced aloud.

“Lillias’ insistence on the marriage going through, even though she clearly wasn’t happy about it.” And then another memory popped to mind. “And Father’s strange insistence that both his girls would be taken care of.” Grace squinted up to him. “He kept saying it, as if to console himself.”

The door swung open again, and Perkins approached, a simple envelope in his hands. “Here we are, my lady.”

Grace took the mail from him, unfamiliar writing scrawled across the front: “Deliver to Lillias M. and Grace C. Ferguson.”

Beneath those instructions, a sharp hand had written the word urgent.

She reread the words as if they’d help add some sense to the entire situation.

But no. Everything kept growing more and more unusual.

“Mr. Barclay is staying at the Clarion in town, should you wish to notify him of your arrival.”

She looked up at Frederick, whose attention fastened on the envelope before he brought his gaze back to hers, one brow raised. Her look must have alerted him to her own confusion because with a nod, he turned back to Perkins.

“Thank you for your help, Perkins.” Frederick gestured back toward their touring car. “I feel certain Lady Astley’s sister, Mrs. Dixon, will provide some clarity to this situation for us.”

“I hope so sir.” The man’s expression wreathed with apologies as his attention landed on Grace again. “And I truly am sorry for the way in which you discovered it, my lady.”

A kaleidoscope of unanswered questions and wild conjectures swirled through her mind enough to create her own three-volume novel, but she pushed up her most authentic smile—because Perkins really was such a good man—and took a step toward him.

“Despite it all, I’m very glad this new family has the benefit of your services, Perkins, for I’ve experienced the personal goodness of it. ”

The man’s posture fell a little with his softening expression. “If I might say so, my lady, you are very much like your mother. I’ve always thought so.”

The statement sliced through all the chaos in her thoughts to hit a particularly tender place in her heart.

She’d always been told she resembled her mother’s appearance, but to be compared to her mother in personality meant all the more because, though Grace had vague memories of her mother, time had fogged the edges of what she actually recalled and what others had told her.

“Thank you, Perkins.” Grace smiled. “I don’t know that you could have said anything else that would have comforted me more.”

With that, she turned with Frederick back to the car, carefully slipping open the envelope in hopes of abating at least one piece of her curiosity.

Two sheets of paper waited inside—one somewhat yellowed with age and the other crisp and new.

The older one drew her attention first, and she tugged it forward, just as they reached the car.

As her gaze trailed to the signature line of the letter, she gasped.

She reread the name three separate times before looking back over her shoulder at the door where Perkins had disappeared.

She’d always known Perkins had incredible foresight, but to see into the future?

“What is it?” Frederick touched her arm.

She dragged her attention from the door, blinking with new fervor, and looked up at her husband. “It’s a letter.” She drew in a breath, trying to understand, and turned the page toward Frederick. “From my mother.”