Sarah did not leave her room for the next few hours, finding solace and comfort in her own company. She did not want to speak to Mr. Stanton nor to his wife, feeling as though she were even more lost than she had been before. She hoped that Mr. Stanton had done as she asked and sent for his solicitor, realizing that now that she knew about her fortune it was not as though he could deny her.

“Sarah?”

Closing her eyes, Sarah prayed that Mrs. Stanton would leave her be, but—to her irritation—the lady knocked again.

“Might I come in? Just to talk with you for a moment.”

Seeing that she was not about to have any relief, Sarah walked to the door, unlocked it, and thrust it open. The anger that flared in her was demolished at once, as she took in the tears in Mrs. Stanton’s eyes and the way she seemed to almost tremble in front of her.

“Mrs. Stanton, what is the matter?” she asked, a little less brusquely than she had intended. “If it is about dinner last evening, then I can only apologize. I did not have a headache, but instead grew annoyed with the idea that I was to be paraded in front of the eligible gentlemen who joined us.”

Mrs. Stanton seemed to shrink all the more, her eyes darting around Sarah without ever actually looking into her face. “I did not mean any harm, Sarah.”

Sarah felt herself deflate all the more. “I know you meant well,” she admitted eventually. “But I would have preferred to know that Mr. Stanton intended to state that I was now out so that I could have prepared myself a little better. That untruth threw me quite off kilter.”

Mrs. Stanton nodded slowly, her gaze traveling up to Sarah’s face. “Mr. Stanton told me about what you said.”

“About my fortune?” Sarah asked, seeing the flare of Mrs. Stanton’s eyes. “Yes, I have come to learn about my fortune. I will have control of it very soon. By the end of today, I hope.”

The lady nodded again, her eyes dropping to the floor. “And do you intend to leave us?”

It was not a question Sarah was truly prepared for. She did want to leave, yes, but only in order to find out the truth about who she was.

“I think I must,” she said slowly, seeing the grief write itself across Mrs. Stanton’s expression. “It is not as though I have not been happy here, but rather that the mystery surrounding my circumstances has never been solved and I do so wish to find out the truth.” She tilted her head and regarded Mrs. Stanton carefully. “It is not something that you are able to help me with, is it?”

“Goodness, no,” Mrs. Stanton said, looking as astonished as she sounded. “I knew nothing of the matter until the day before you arrived. You cannot imagine my joy, when I had come to learn that we could not have children of our own.” Tears began to trickle down her cheeks, as she smiled up at Sarah, one hand reaching to touch Sarah’s own. “But I suppose that every child must leave their nest.”

Every last bit of anger and frustration blew away in an instant, as Sarah looked at Mrs. Stanton with fresh eyes. It was clear that Mrs. Stanton was devastated to learn that Sarah would be, most likely, making plans of her own. Evidently, the lady had believed that she would remain in Little Mybster for the rest of her days, married to a gentleman nearby. She had thought they would never be truly separated. Until that moment, Sarah had never truly understood just how deeply Mrs. Stanton cared for her. She had always been warm and friendly towards Sarah, but until this moment, she had never shown any kind of deep emotion towards her.

“I think of you as my own daughter in many ways,” Mrs. Stanton continued, her voice now weak and shaking. “Wherever you go, you will write to me, will you not? I could not stand it if I did not know where you were.”

Struck by just how much Mrs. Stanton cared for her, Sarah reached out and took Mrs. Stanton’s soft hands in hers, smiling softly.

“Mrs. Stanton, you have been more than a guardian to me. You have been a parent. You have guided me, taught me, and helped me to grow. I do not have anger in my heart towards you although I will confess a lingering frustration with Mr. Stanton and his lack of willingness to discuss anything related to my life with me.”

“Oh, but you do not understand,” Mrs. Stanton responded, squeezing her hands. “He was told not to. Something about it being for your own safety. He may have appeared abrupt, my dear, but he was doing it for your own good.”

Sarah hesitated before she spoke, fear clutching at her heart. Had he not told her anything for her own safety? What did that mean?

“Am I in danger?”

Mrs. Stanton shook her head, shrugging slightly. “We were not told, neither of us, and I confess I was just thrilled that I would have a child in our home.”

“I understand,” Sarah replied gently. “But I must find out the truth. I cannot remain here to be shunted from this house to that of my husband, whomever he was to be, without knowing my heritage.” The words trembled on her lips, but she spoke them regardless. “Am I a bastard child, Mrs. Stanton? Is that why I was sent here?”

Mrs. Stanton did not flinch at the word but looked back at Sarah steadily. “I am not at all certain, my dear, but even it if transpires that this is the case, you have nothing to be ashamed of. Your character is good; you are sweet, kind, and amiable and have nothing to fear from those who might look down on you. Everything I know I have taught you so that you might be an elegant and articulate young lady for when the time came for your marriage.”

Sarah smiled at Mrs. Stanton. “And I am grateful for that. However, I must go on my own way now. You are, of course, welcome to join me if you should wish it. I will need a companion.”

She held her breath, and Mrs. Stanton considered the matter, before shaking her head.

“No, I think I had best remain here. Mr. Stanton will need me, and as much as I care for you, he must come first.” She squeezed Sarah’s hands again before letting them go, her eyes glazing over with tears again. “Promise me that you will write to me often, when it comes time for you to leave. I must know where you are and that you are well.”

“Of course, I will,” Sarah promised, suddenly feeling an ache in her own heart, as she thought about leaving the only home she had ever known. “I will write very often so that you need not concern yourself over me.”

Mrs. Stanton smiled and made to turn away, only to stop herself. “You know that you will always have a home here with us, whatever the circumstances, Sarah. Should you wish to return, you only need to appear, and we will welcome you with open arms. You are as much our child as if I had birthed you myself.”

“And you are the only mother I have ever known or will ever need,” Sarah replied, feeling her own tears threatening. “Thank you. I will keep you informed of any changes to my plans.”

Mrs. Stanton nodded and left the room, and Sarah was about to close the door when the maid appeared, telling her that Mr. Stanton and his solicitor were waiting for her in the study, just as soon as she could join them. Sarah spared herself only a few seconds to glance in the mirror and smooth her chestnut-colored hair before setting her shoulders and making her way back to the study, telling herself that she could not stop being brave now. Whilst Mrs. Stanton’s conversation had brought her a sharp, unexpected grief at the thought of leaving, Sarah could not allow herself to show any kind of emotion now. She would have to be practical and sensible, showing both men that she had every intention of carrying on with what she had begun.

“Ah, Sarah,” Mr. Stanton began, getting out of his chair as she came into the room. “This is Mr. Featherstone, my solicitor. He was in the village today from London, as I said to you before, so he was able to stop in at short notice.”

“I had business with a few others in the village, so it is no trouble,” Mr. Featherstone replied, heaving his great bulk out of the chair and inclining his head towards Sarah, who found herself staring at one of the largest men she had ever seen. The man was positively rotund, with a faint sheen of sweat appearing on his brow as he bowed. His thinning, fair hair was plastered to his head, his large nose rather red and his small, narrow eyes studying her intently. Sarah felt herself disliking him at once, but setting her personal feelings aside, she sat down with them both.

“It appears you have discovered something about your fortune,” Mr. Featherstone began, tutting a little. “You are either a very nosy girl or someone informed you of the matter.” He raised one eyebrow and looked Sarah up and down, sniffing disdainfully. “Might I ask which one it is?”

Sarah, feeling as though she was being reprimanded by this man she did not know, felt her cheeks turn scarlet as she fought to keep her anger under control. “I do not think that is any of your business, Mr. Featherstone,” she replied caustically. “Please inform me about my fortune and dowry.”

Mr. Featherstone did not appear to be in any way pleased by this response, but a look from Mr. Stanton prevented him from saying more.

“Very well,” he said, somewhat stiffly. “You have an income of ten thousand pounds a year, Miss Weston, from the year you turned eighteen, which, I believe, was a little over a year ago.”

“I am just now turned twenty,” Sarah replied, trying to keep a hold of herself at the sudden wealth that was being poured into her lap. “And my dowry?”

Mr. Featherstone pulled some papers from his case and scrutinized them. “Twenty thousand pounds, Miss Weston. Oh, and there is a townhouse in London in your name, although I do not know whether or not it is furnished. There is no staff there yet, of course.”

Reeling, Sarah clung to the arms of her chair and tried her best to breathe normally. This was more than a fortune; this was extravagance.

“You were not to know of this until you wed, which is what is most unfortunate,” Mr. Featherstone continued, still sounding rather annoyed. “I believe it was felt that a young woman would not be able to manage such a great amount of money alone.”

That caught Sarah’s attention, bringing her back into the room with a sudden jolt. “I think you—and whoever suggested that—greatly underestimate me, sir,” she replied firmly. “And I shall tell you what I intend to do with my fortune, if that is to put you at ease. I intend to give ten thousand pounds, from last year’s income, to Mr. and Mrs. Stanton. Immediately.”

There was a short, stunned silence. Sarah looked at Mr. Stanton, who was staring at her with wide eyes, his hands grasping the table in front of him.

“Mr. Stanton, I know you were given some income each year to care for me, but I would not have you struggle when that income ceases. I intend to ensure that yourself and Mrs. Stanton are able to live comfortably.”

“I….” Mr. Stanton’s voice grew hoarse, as he swallowed once, then twice, before shaking his head at her. “You are much too generous, Sarah. I did not expect this from you.”

Sarah gave him a half smile. “And that is precisely why I want to give you this, Mr. Stanton. I will confess to being rather angry with you for the multitude of secrets that were kept from me, but I see now that this was not your doing.”

Mr. Stanton looked up at her, his gaze steady. “I did what I had to for your own safety, Sarah,” he said softly. “I am only sorry that I do not precisely know why or what is the cause of such danger.”

Feeling a great deal more in control, Sarah smiled back at him before returning her gaze to the solicitor. Her smile faded from her lips as she kept her gaze firm, wanting to ensure that he knew she had no intention of changing her mind on anything she had discussed so far.

“And is there anything that you know, Mr. Featherstone?” she asked, narrowing her gaze a little. “I am sure that you need not hold anything back.”

Mr. Featherstone shook his head, clearing his throat as he did so. “No, I know nothing, Miss Weston. I am, after all, your guardian’s solicitor and nothing more. I do as I am instructed.”

There was something about the way he could not look at her that made Sarah grow a little more suspicious of the rotund man, her fingers tightening in her lap as she kept her gaze fixed on him.

“There is nothing. I assure you,” he said again, as if aware of her scrutiny. “What could I know that I would not share with Mr. Stanton?”

Choosing to drop the subject for a moment, Sarah sniffed delicately and turned her head. “Are there papers I need to sign?” she asked, somewhat sharply. “And I should like details of the townhouse in London as well, if you please.”

“Why?” Mr. Stanton asked at once, as the solicitor began to shuffle papers about in his briefcase. “Is that where you intend to go?”

As the solicitor laid out papers on the table in front her, Sarah gave Mr. Stanton a slight shrug. “Yes, I think that I should stay there for a time. I know I will need both staff and a companion, but I intend to secure both of those things before I leave. I have already promised Mrs. Stanton that I will write to her regularly so that neither of you will have any cause for concern.”

Mr. Stanton nodded slowly, his expression troubled. “I am always going to be concerned for you, my dear. I have not always made the best decisions, nor have I always shown you the care and consideration that you required, and for that, I am sorry.”

For a moment, Sarah was struck dumb, not knowing what to say. Mr. Stanton had never spoken to her in such a way before.

“I think I speak for both myself and Mrs. Stanton when I say that we will miss you, Sarah. Our lives will not be as full as they once were.”

Wishing that the solicitor was not present so that she might reach forward and take Mr. Stanton’s hand for a moment, Sarah contented herself with a gentle smile. “Thank you. I know that I will miss you both very much, but I must go in search of Lord Thorndyke to see what he knows, if anything. I cannot have the rest of my life remain a mystery.”

“I quite understand,” Mr. Stanton replied, as Mr. Featherstone handed her a quill to sign various documents. “Just know that you will always be welcome here, no matter how long you stay away.”

“Thank you,” Sarah said gratefully, before turning to sign the papers that would open up the next part of her life.

It was only after Mr. Featherstone had left the house that Sarah felt herself able to tell Mr. Stanton the truth about the locket and the note she had found. It was not that she did not trust Mr. Featherstone, but rather that his attitude towards her had rifled her to the point that she did not want to say more than she had to.

“You were rather suspicious of Mr. Featherstone,” Mr. Stanton commented, as Sarah began to tidy up her copies of the papers she had signed. “Might I ask why?”

Briefly, Sarah explained about the locket and the note, watching Mr. Stanton carefully. From the look on his face—the whiteness of his cheeks, the widening of his eyes—he had very little idea who had done this. Nor did he know who might have been watching Sarah so as to place the locket under her pillow.

“I cannot think that it would be one of the staff, for they have been here since before you arrived,” he mumbled, looking away from her as his brows furrowed together in thought. “You must be careful, Sarah. The fact that someone has made this much effort to inform you of your fortune means that they have their own purposes behind it.”

Sarah gave him a rueful smile. “And those purposes might be nefarious, yes. I had thought of that.”

“It troubles me to know that someone has managed to make their way into my home without my knowledge,” Mr. Stanton continued gravely. “If I were able to, I would insist that you remain here in safety.”

Sarah laughed softly, seeing the wry expression on Mr. Stanton’s face. “I know, but it is not something I am willing to do, Mr. Stanton. I will take every precaution; I assure you.”

“Do,” he said quietly. “It would be the death of me to know that you have been injured or the like, not to mention what it would do to Mrs. Stanton.” He let out a long breath, sighing heavily. “This was not what I had intended for you, Sarah.”

“I know,” she replied quietly, “but I believe it is for the best. You will see. All will come aright in the end. I am sure of it.”