Chapter Fifty-Five
“MAYBE NO ONE IS home?” Alfreda said when she knocked for the second time.
“I hear babies crying,” Harriet insisted. “They wouldn’t be left unattended.”
The couple they’d been looking for did indeed get a baby last year, then soon after that, another. They were hoping for a third, since they wanted a big family. But Alfreda just rolled her eyes, refusing to repeat for the second time what she’d already predicted. They were going to be let down because even if Ella’s child was one of the Turrils’ adopted children, they couldn’t prove it, the abbess wouldn’t verify it, and the couple would certainly deny it, not wanting to give up either child they’d likely come to love as their own by now.
They’d arrived in Sevenoaks late last night, feeling a bit daunted because the town was bigger than they’d expected, having grown from the time it was established in 1605. They’d gotten rooms at a small hotel, and Harriet had gone off to find a few churches, though she’d allowed a visit to the mayor could wait until morning. But she’d had no luck with the churches in the heart of the town and had been directed to try farther out, which they did in the morning.
The pastor at the first one directed them to the Turrils’ rather large house on the edge of town. Mr. Turril was a skilled clockmaker, they’d been told. He and his wife had tried for fifteen years to conceive a child before they decided to adopt instead.
As Brooke and Harriet stood anxiously on the front step as Alfreda knocked again, the door opened. The woman who stood there was too young to be Mrs. Turril. Red haired with curious brown eyes and wearing a long white apron, she looked like a servant, perhaps a nanny, because she had a toddler on her hip that neither Whitworth could take their eyes off.
“May I help you ladies?”
From farther inside the house a female voice inquired, “Is that my package, Bertha?”
The maid turned to answer, giving Brooke enough room to brush past Bertha to find the woman who had just spoken. And there she was, black hair tied back, amber eyes like Dominic’s, fashionably dressed. Brooke had never hoped for this, not when there had been not just one but two graves for Eloise Wolfe.
“I know you,” Brooke said almost tearfully as she slowly approached Dominic’s sister. “I cried with you when your dog died. I laughed with you when you landed a perfect hit to your brother’s face with that snowball when you were only twelve. I smiled when I sat on your ‘I win’ bench in the center of that maze at Rothdale. My God, I’m so glad you’re alive, Ella!”
Those amber eyes had gotten wider with Brooke’s every word, until the black brows snapped together for a stiff reply. “You are mistaken. I’m Jane Croft, not whomever you’re referring to.”
“Changing your name doesn’t change who you are.” Brooke grinned widely. “Don’t deny it. Your eyes give you away, so like his.”
Even stiffer: “You obviously have the wrong address. Whoever you are looking for doesn’t live here. Now I must ask you to leave.”
Brooke still wasn’t daunted, but before she could reply, Harriet barged in, demanding, “Where’s my grandchild?”
“I beg your pardon,” the young woman said curtly. “Who the deuce are you people?”
“Mother, wait,” Brooke cautioned. “This is Ella Wolfe, the child’s mother.”
The amber eyes were quite angry now. “No, I am not! Please leave.”
Brooke quickly said, “I’m Dominic’s—was Dominic’s fiancée, but I hope to be that again. I love your brother. He still loves you very much and is deeply pained by the loss of you. Your mother still grieves and misses you terribly. The circumstances of your death are what stand between your brother and me. But once he knows that you’re alive—”
“You can’t tell him!” Ella actually looked appalled, but then tears began streaming down her face.
Harriet was obviously disappointed that she wouldn’t be taking a baby home today as she’d hoped, but her words weren’t accusing, merely curious, when she asked, “D’you know you have two graves?”
Ella swiped the tears off her cheeks. “I should hope so, I arranged for both.”
“May we see the child?” Harriet asked hopefully.
“No,” Ella said protectively. “I don’t even know who you are or how you found me when I took such extreme measures to make sure no one ever would.”
Brooke explained, “We didn’t know we would find you, not when you wrote in your diary that the baby left you no choice but to take your own life.”
“No, I didn’t. It left me no choice but to go away to have her. I never considered killing myself and my baby.”
“But Dominic said you wrote that you were going to seek ‘peace and solace in the sea.’ ”
“That I wished I could, not that I would, but that was at my lowest point of heartbreak, just a brief tearful thought. But I had to keep the truth from Dominic to keep him from committing murder and ending up in prison for the rest of his life. And the only way to do that was to disappear. I didn’t think to pretend to be lost at sea until I sailed past the body of that poor woman on the beach. It was my maid, Bertha, who pointed it out. We stopped to investigate, and that’s when the idea occurred to me, to fake my death. I asked Bertha to put my locket on the corpse. You should have heard her complaints, I’m sure they heard them back in Scarborough. So I did the deed, as distasteful as it was, and sent her back on foot to fetch my jewelry so we’d have money to support us, since I couldn’t withdraw money from my bank, not after I was ‘dead.’
“I intended to give my baby to the foundling house, but once I had it, well, it was love at first sight. The Turrils were disappointed that I’d changed my mind, but they offered me an alternative, to come live with them and raise my child here. It was a satisfactory arrangement for me, since I hadn’t really decided where to go after the birth. And they’ve been wonderful surrogate grandparents. Now I insist you tell me how you found me. The abbess swore—”
“It wasn’t her. She even denied writing that letter I found of hers in your fan. But one of the nuns confided a lady had come to them during the fall of that year. I only hoped it had been you, but the nun was sure you didn’t survive the complications of the birth.”
“I nearly didn’t. It was ghastly.” Ella shuddered.
“The nun implied you and the child might have died that night, but since she wasn’t certain, my mother was determined to look around every last corner, so we came here with high hopes to at least find your baby if it did somehow survive, so we could bring it home where it belongs.”
“It belongs with me.”
“Yes, of course it does. There’s no question about that now. We mean you no harm, I promise you.”
Some of the stiffness went out of Ella’s shoulders, enough for her to admit, “I knew what the consequences would be for my foolish actions and reckless heart, but I was in love. I even knew his faults, but I was sure I could help him to overcome them. We met secretly so often, I expected I’d get pregnant, so it was no surprise when I did and I was thrilled. I thought it would get us to the altar sooner. More fool me. But even so, I couldn’t bear the thought of him dying at my brother’s hands, or what would happen to Dominic because of it. I feel terrible about the pain I’ve caused my mother and my brother, it troubles me deeply, but the alternative would have been much worse.”
“But what you feared would happen did happen. There were three duels fought over your death, though neither opponent died. But the Prince Regent intervened and your brother has signed a pledge to give up his vendetta for good. I’m sorry that my brother refused to marry you. He’s such a cad. But truly, there’s no longer a reason for you to stay here. Go back to your family, Ella. It will be a dream come true for them.”
But Ella was suddenly frowning. “I didn’t know Benton had a sister, in fact, I’m sure he doesn’t. Who are you really?”