by Wolf, Bree
Overwhelmed, Adelaide closed her eyes. “He’s right. I…I’m afraid if I tell him, it will destroy us, destroy what is between us.” Turning pleading eyes to her mother-in-law, Adelaide grasped the woman’s hands. “I cannot lose him. I cannot.”
Smiling, Clara brushed a tear from Adelaide’s cheek. “My son loves you, and there is very little you can do to change that. You’re a wonderful wife to him, and I’m grateful that he married you. You’re good for each other.”
Warmth flooded Adelaide’s heart as she looked at Clara through a curtain of tears. “Do you truly believe so? But…I…” Wiping her hands over her face, Adelaide stepped around her mother-in-law, certain the woman would not have said what she had if she knew her secret. In all likelihood, Clara would curse the day her son had married her, no longer thinking her worthy of him.
“It’s Tillie, isn’t it?” her mother-in-law asked from behind her.
Adelaide froze, cold sweat breaking out on her forehead.
“She’s yours, isn’t she?”
Spinning around, Adelaide stared at her mother-in-law as panic crawled up her spine. “How…? How do you…? Who told…?”
Smiling, Clara stepped toward her, her warm hands wrapping gently around Adelaide’s chilled ones. “No one told me,” she whispered, her eyes still gentle, far from what Adelaide had expected. “You look at that precious little girl as only a mother would. Perhaps it is something only a mother can recognise. It’s a bond. A bond that only exists if a woman sees herself as a child’s mother.” Smiling, she squeezed Adelaide’s hands. “You’ve always been careful not to act as Tillie’s mother as though if you did, others might see the truth. She’s yours.”
With tears streaming down her face, Adelaide nodded. “She is. She’s mine.” A jolt of triumph went through her heart at that proclamation, and Adelaide realised how painful it had been to pretend to merely be Tillie’s aunt and not claim the girl as her own daughter. “But I cannot tell him. He…he would never forgive me. He would send Tillie away, and I cannot be without her…or without him.”
“Of course, you can’t,” Clara scoffed as though such a notion was ridiculous. “She’s your daughter. She belongs with you.” Inhaling a deep breath, Clara once more wiped the tears from Adelaide’s face. “Listen to me. My son is a good man, and he loves you. He loves Tillie. What you fear he might do does not stem from your knowledge of him but is born out of fear alone.” A cloud seemed to descend on Clara’s face. “Believe me, I know how you feel, always expecting the worst, always preparing yourself for it. It’s a way of thinking that has helped you in the past, but your life is different now. Now, such thinking will only hurt you, will keep you from being happy. You need to find a way to let it go and begin anew.”
Adelaide looked at her mother-in-law, and for a moment, she saw herself. A woman who had spent her life in fear, always bowing her head and cowering in a corner. But now, here, in this moment, Clara stood tall, her eyes were bright and her voice strong. She had returned from the shadows, reclaiming her place in the sun.
“My son loves you,” Clara said with vehemence, “and although he might not be overjoyed to hear the truth, he would not allow it to stand in the way to your happiness.” She sighed. “Does Tillie’s father−whoever he is−still holds your heart?”
As though struck, Adelaide shook her head. “No. He never did. It was just…”
“Then you have nothing to fear. All will be well…as soon as you tell my son the truth. He would be a fool to let you go, and I swear to you he is not. Have faith.”
Earlier that day, her husband had spoken those same words to her, and Adelaide wondered if indeed they could be true. Was it only her fear holding her back? Her fear that clouded her judgement?
“Think about it,” Clara urged. “But not too long. Don’t waste time in fear, not when you have such a wonderful family waiting for you.”
“Thank you, Clara,” Adelaide sighed. “Thank you for everything.”
“Of course, dear. Any mother would see to her child’s happiness no matter how old they are.” A soft chuckle left her lips. “You’ll see that soon enough. Whether Tillie is two or two-and-twenty, she’ll always be your little girl. That never changes.”
Squeezing Adelaide’s hand one last time, Clara left her to her thoughts.
For a moment, Adelaide continued to pace the room before she came to stand by the window, gazing out at the garden where Tillie and her husband were watching a little robin hopping from branch to branch.
Her family, Adelaide thought.
All she needed was the courage to claim it.
Chapter Thirty-Three – Childhood Friends
Days passed, and Matthew felt as though his wife was trying to work up the courage to speak to him. He suspected his mother had spoken to her−although she refused to provide him with any details on the matter, insisting he be patient and listen with his heart and not his ego once his wife was ready to confide in him. What on earth did that even mean?
Still, as much as Matthew tried to be patient, he could feel his heart thudding wildly in his chest and his hands ball into fists when he spotted no other than Joseph Bartholomew the next night at a society ball. The almost desperate need to punch him was overwhelming…and yet, Matthew did not even know for sure whether or not the man had anything to do with his wife’s secret.
What was undoubtedly clear was the interest Bartholomew had in Adelaide.
The moment the man stepped into the ballroom, his gaze found her almost unerringly, and he continued to watch her for the next hour. Then he ventured over to greet them and asked Adelaide for a dance. Nervously, she glanced at Matthew before Bartholomew drew her onto the dance floor without bothering to wait for her answer.
Forcing his feet to remain where they were, Matthew seethed in silence, once again battling the overwhelming need to strike the man down. Never before in his life had he felt anything akin to the jealousy that now burnt in his heart.
But he held himself back.
If she refused to share her secret with him, then perhaps he could glean an insight by observing her, observing them.
When the dance came to an end, Bartholomew directed her not back to Matthew but toward the refreshment table, offering her a drink. All the while, his gaze never strayed from her, lingering in places that had Matthew’s head red-hot in moments.
The only thing that held him in place was the clear fact that his wife looked rather ill at ease. She did not encourage Bartholomew’s attention and seemed rather uncomfortable by his insistence to remain by her side.
After a few more words were spoken, she finally took her leave and strode across the ballroom back to Matthew’s side. Still, her gaze barely dared meet his.
“Are you all right?” Matthew asked through gritted teeth, reminding himself that whatever might have been between her and Bartholomew once, it was now clear that that was of the past. At least as far as his wife was concerned.
Before she could answer his question though, Bartholomew stepped up to them, once more greeting Matthew as though they were the greatest of friends. “It is good to see you here tonight,” he observed, glancing around the room. “I admit these events no longer hold such fascination for me.” Then he cleared his throat and turned his gaze back to Adelaide. “Have you spoken to your brother recently? How is he?”
Adelaide swallowed. “He is well,” was all she said.
Matthew frowned. Had he not spotted Adelaide’s brother among the guests earlier tonight?
Scanning the crowd, Matthew found him standing across the room, a drink in his hand and his eyes narrowed into slits as he stared at them. There was something dark in the man’s eyes, and Matthew got the distinct feeling that the hatred he saw there was directed at Bartholomew.
“He is right over there,” Matthew offered, nodding in the direction of his brother-in-law. “Perhaps you should ask him yourself. I suppose he should have the answers you seek.”
Not even bothering to look
over his shoulder, Bartholomew nodded. “I might do that,” he mumbled, then took his leave and walked away…
…in the opposite direction to where John stood glaring at him.
“Their relationship seems to be strained,” Matthew observed glancing from his brother-in-law to his wife. “Did he not say they were childhood friends?”
Averting her eyes, Adelaide nodded. “He did. However, I think they haven’t seen each other in a while.”
“All the more reason to catch up,” Matthew suggested, noting the way his wife’s fingers played with the edge of her glove. She seemed uncomfortable once more, and Matthew got the distinct feeling that not only her father but also her brother knew what had happened between her and Bartholomew. Was this the secret she kept from him? An affair? Not ongoing, but of the past? Had Bartholomew ruined Adelaide? If so, why had they not married? Would her father and brother not have insisted upon it?
With his mind still reeling, Matthew suddenly realised that the spot where his brother-in-law had been standing until only moments ago was now empty. Instead, John was striding toward them, his eyes hard and glaring, fixed on his sister.
Instantly, Matthew’s feelings toward his wife softened, and he gently pulled her hand through the crook of his arm. “Good to see you tonight,” he greeted his brother-in-law, his tone polite but insistent, hoping to discourage the man from displaying the emotions that rested in his eyes openly.
John merely nodded to him before his glare turned to Adelaide. “What have you done?” he demanded. “Are you seeking to destroy him?”
Frowning, Adelaide shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean.” Her gaze darted to the direction in which Bartholomew had left.
“Don’t play dumb!” her brother hissed under his breath, the liquid in his glass sloshing up the sides as he gestured wildly.
Taking a step forward, Matthew fixed his brother-in-law with a warning glare. “I suggest you watch your manners!”
For a moment, John glared at him before he inhaled a deep breath and his demeanour changed, became less threatening. “Ever since he called on you, Father has locked himself in his study. He’s not himself. It’s gotten worse in the past sennight.” Brows drawn down, John shook his head, confusion and something akin to concern in his eyes. “He keeps sending letters−to whom I cannot say−which return unopened and unanswered. This−whatever it is−will send him into a depression.”
Adelaide inhaled a deep breath before her eyes rose to meet Matthew’s. “He is writing to Beth,” she whispered, her hand tightening on his arm for comfort.
Matthew nodded, feeling his heart jump at the familiarity between them. As much as he did not know about her, there were some things−personal things−she had shared with him, trusted him with. He was not an outsider to her life as he sometimes feared when her secret loomed in front of him, large and threatening.
No, there was something between them. It had not merely been his imagination.
“Who is Beth?” John demanded, eyes narrowed into slits. “His mistress? I thought I knew them all.”
Adelaide’s lips thinned, and her eyes narrowed as she took a step toward her brother, her posture more self-assured than a moment before. John seemed to notice it as well as his gaze narrowed further, and his eyes swept over her face as though looking for answers.
“She is not his mistress,” Adelaide said, her voice low but firm. “We should talk about this in private. Will you call on me tomorrow?”
Taking a step back, her brother shook his head. “I don’t care what you have to say at this point. Simply go and speak to Father and apologise for whatever you did.” For a weighted moment, his gaze held hers. “It’s the least you owe me.” Then he turned around and walked away.
Beside him, Adelaide sighed, and her shoulders slumped. “He will not come,” she mumbled, regret heavy in her voice.
“Then you should go see him,” Matthew suggested, hoping that once she had sorted everything out with her family, she might find the peace of mind she needed to speak to him. “I will accompany you to ensure your safety.”
A small smile came to Adelaide’s lips as she looked up at him, and from one moment to the next, Matthew felt reminded of the day her father had called on her, the day he had pulled her into his arms for a kiss, the day she had kissed him back. “I’m not afraid of him,” she said, not only relief but also certainty in her voice. “I need to do this alone, but I thank you for your kindness. You always look out for me. Always.” Tears misted her eyes as she held his gaze and her right hand came to rest on his chest, covering his thudding heart. “I feel safe with you.”
Returning her smile, Matthew closed his own hand over hers. If only they could always be this close.
Chapter Thirty-Four – Once Upon a Time
Stepping out of the carriage, Adelaide looked up at the tall townhouse that had been her home for as long as she could remember. Now, as she climbed the stairs to the front door, she could not imagine ever coming back here. Nothing drew her to her past. Nothing but the family inside.
As though they had known of her arrival, the door opened, and her mother and grandmother stepped out, opening their umbrellas to shield themselves from the bright morning sun.
“Adelaide!” they exclaimed, drawing her into their arms. “How wonderful to see you!”
“Is everything all right?” her mother asked, a touch of concern in her eyes as she glanced behind her daughter at the waiting carriage. “Is your husband here as well?”
“No, I came alone,” Adelaide replied, feeling a stab of guilt. While her own marriage had freed Adelaide, her mother’s had put her in chains, tying her to this house and the man inside.
“Will you accompany us?” her grandmother asked, gesturing down the street. “It is such a beautiful day, and we haven’t seen you in quite some time.”
Adelaide smiled, seeing the teasing joy in her grandmother’s eyes. While her mother was governed by the same fear that had ruled Adelaide’s life for so long, her grandmother did not miss the signs of peace on her granddaughter’s face, in the way she spoke and move, the way she held her head and met their eyes.
Much had changed, and Adelaide realised it only now when it was as though a mirror was held up in front of her. Indeed, she was no longer the young woman who had once lived here.
“I wish I could, but I’ve come to see John. Is he in?”
The women’s faces darkened. “He is still abed at this hour,” her mother replied, “which is nothing unusual as you know.”
Adelaide nodded.
“Go and knock some sense into him,” her grandmother urged, a touch of triumph in her voice as she all but grinned at Adelaide. “It’ll do him some good.”
Squeezing her grandmother’s hand, Adelaide smiled. “Thank you for everything.” Then she stepped aside and allowed them to pass, waving at them once they had reached the pavement. “Enjoy yourselves.”
For a moment, Adelaide remained where she was, breathing in the fresh morning air, no longer chilled but already warmed by the sun. Then she turned and braced herself for what lay ahead. She stepped over the threshold without a moment of hesitation and fought to shake off the sense of old familiarity that clawed at her, threatening to rob her of the ease she generally felt these days.
Holding her head high, Adelaide made for the large staircase, determined not to let anything get in her way. Her feet carried her higher and higher until she turned down the corridor that led to her brother’s chamber. Stopping in front of the door, she inhaled a deep breath, squared her shoulders and knocked.
After her fourth, more vehement knock, a clearly ill-tempered voice called through the door, “Go away!”
Unimpressed, Adelaide pushed down the handle and strode forward, the stale, liquor-filled air assaulting her senses the moment she stepped over the threshold. Clearing her throat, she pulled back the curtains and threw open a window. “John, how can you sleep here? The air is suffocating!”
A tortured gr
oan rose from the bed as her brother yanked the blanket over his head. “What’s gotten into you? Are you mad? Close the curtains!”
“It’s almost noon.”
“Why should I care?”
“Get up!”
Pulling the blanket down, he sat up, squinting his eyes at the bright light flooding his room. “You’re not acting like yourself,” he grumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. “What’s wrong with you?”
Adelaide chuckled. She actually chuckled! “Nothing is wrong. I’d say it was about time things changed, about time I changed.” Sighing, she smiled, feeling more at ease than she ever had in this house. Then she stepped toward the bed. “I’m here to talk to you.”
“Fine,” John snapped. “Then talk!” Finally, rising from the bed, he pulled on a robe.
“Last night, you asked me who Beth is,” Adelaide began, her eyes trained on her brother as she wondered how he would react to such news. “Well, as I said she is not Father’s mistress.” Inhaling a deep breath, she said, “She’s his daughter.”
For a moment, John simply stared at her before his jaw dropped open. “What? Daughter?” Shaking his head, he staggered toward her but halted his steps when he began to sway more. “I didn’t know any of his mistresses ever had a child.”
“She is not the child of a mistress,” Adelaide corrected. “You know that Father was married once before.”
Her brother nodded, his gaze narrowing. “But they died.”
“They did not,” Adelaide corrected once more. “They ran away because her mother wanted to see her safe.”
“Safe?” John croaked. “Safe from what?” Raking his hands through his hair, he stared at her. “What you say makes no sense!”
“Safe from Father,” Adelaide said, reminding herself that her brother had a right to be shocked. Such news was not easily received as she knew from personal experience. “Her mother feared that he would strike Beth, and so they fled…with grandmother’s help.”