Page 39 of The Duke's Promise to Her Child
“Yes,” she said. “I do. It is — that is—” She took a breath. “You do not know everything about me. About my family.” Her shoulders rolled forward, her head dropping. A groan escaped her. “I am not who you think I am.”
“You are not Helena Vale? Have you been impersonating someone? Who are you really — a French countess fleeing Napoleon?”
“You must not jest at a time such as this. This is serious.”
“Serious indeed. Go on.”
“You understand that my father was merely a captain in the militia. That is not a grand position in itself. But you perhaps also know that his uncle was an Earl.”
“An Earl somewhere up north, yes. I recall.”
“And that is the trouble. He did not have an uncle who was an Earl. He did not have any uncles at all. He had an aunt, but she was married to a milliner. There was never an uncle. My mother invented him.” She swallowed. “When they were young and searching for a home, they kept being turned down in favorof more well-connected people, and so she invented an uncle. She made up a title, trusting that most people do not know the titles of every member of the peerage. And it worked. They found a home, and my father continued to invoke this nonexistent uncle whenever it suited him — my mother more than my father. People believed it. People respected us more because they thought we were connected to nobility.”
She pressed on, her voice flat and steady, as though reciting something she had rehearsed many times alone.
“When it was time for my coming out, my mother made sure that everybody knew who my father was, and in turn who his uncle was. It helped me enormously. And it helped me make the match with Huxley. His family was still not thrilled that my father was only a captain, but they liked the idea of their son marrying someone connected to the nobility. As it turned out, Huxley’s father even claimed to know the Earl in question.”
She leaned back, already exhausted from the telling of it.
“My mother had died by then, and my father had attempted to draw back from the story — to stop invoking this Earl so freely — so that people would not continuously associate us with a man who did not exist. She burned her fingers rather badly with this scheme, and it is I who have been paying the price ever since.”
“In the end, Huxley and I were married, and he was under the impression that he was marrying into a family with noble connections.”
“Did he ever find out that you were not?” Gideon asked. His tone was perfectly level. So level that it was as though she had not just told him the darkest secret she had kept for years.
“He suspected. He asked on occasion if he could meet my father’s uncle, but I always made excuses. I made certain it never happened. At one point I read in the paper that the Earl of whom we had availed ourselves had died, which gave me some breathing room.” She looked at him. “Gideon … someone knows. There were whispers at Almack’s. If it becomes known that I am not truly related to any noble family, that I am nothing more than a commoner who deceived her way into her current position?—”
“It would be a disaster,” he said. “Yes. We would never find you a husband then.” He shook his head slowly. “Perhaps we could find out who knows. I could speak to them. Make certain they stay quiet. In the meantime we could put it about that the whole thing is a hum — started by Lord Henry, perhaps, out of spite. Nobody would find that difficult to believe.”
“Gideon,” she said, exasperated. “Do you not see? It is over. The whole venture is imploding. We cannot continue on this way.” She looked at him. “Are you not angry?”
A mischievous expression flashed across his face. Then a smile.
“You knew,” she said. “You already knew.”
“I may have. Your father may have mentioned this particular difficulty.” He scratched his chin, where a day’s growth hadcome in. “When he asked me to look after you, he mentioned that this matter might one day come up and need to be addressed.”
She could not quite believe what she was hearing. He had known. And he had not cared.
“I lied to you,” she said. “How can you not be angry?”
“Did you truly think I expected you to lay the truth at my feet the moment I walked through your door? No. I am well aware of how opposed you were to this whole venture. Your father told me. I had hoped we could find you a husband and get you settled before this matter ever arose. I thought that once you found a gentleman who adored you, as you ought to be adored, he would not care about the truth even if it did come out.”
“But we have failed,” she said. “We have failed.”
“We have not failed yet. All we have right now are a few rumours. Nothing more. All can still be well.”
Helena shook her head. “You cannot seriously expect us to believe that, Your Grace. You know what this means. Society loves rumours above all else. Even if we were to find somebody now, it would be exceedingly difficult to get them to agree to the match.”
“And then what? What when they discover my secret? It would be humiliating, not only for myself, but for Lavinia. How canshe ever be expected to find a respectable husband? She will be fortunate to find a position as a governess somewhere.”
“She is a legitimately titled child,” Gideon pointed out.
“I know that. But her own family does not want anything to do with her. I must assume it is because they know of my low birth though I do not quite understand why Emmett decided to provide funds at all. That is a puzzle.”
Gideon looked away and then got up. He walked to the kitchen window and ran one hand through his hair.
“It is an utter disaster,” she said. “All this work for nothing. I do beg your pardon for wasting your time.” She looked up. He still said nothing. Was he angry after all? She could not blame him. Even if he had known, even if her darkest secret had been no secret to him at all, she had still dragged him into this.
