Page 88 of Bewitched By the Bluestocking
“I…I think I do.” She blinked slowly. “I’m not sure. Is…is my great-aunt positive? About the Marquess of…Dom…Din…”
“Dorchester,” he provided.
“That’s it.” Her breasts lifted as she drew a deep breath. “The Marquess of Dorchester. Is Lady Ellinwood certain thatheis really my birth father?”
“Yes, she seems to be.”
“But that does not make any sense.” A line furrowed Joanna’s brow as she met his gaze. “My mother wasn’t even a lady. She was anAmerican. Not to say she wasn’t beautiful. There is a painting of her above our mantel, she was…well, she was breathtaking. I wish you could have seen her.”
I am looking right at her, he thought silently.
Kincaid may never have met Anne Thorncroft but, from what had been described of her, she’d been just as vivacious, and independent, and strong-willed as her eldest daughter. Were Anne still alive, he could only imagine the amount of pride she would have had for Joanna.
“Americans carry their own sort of unique appeal,” he said gruffly. Unable to stop himself, he skimmed his fingertips along the delicate vertebrae running up the back of Joanna’s neck. An auburn curl wound around his finger as she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Does he know about me?” she asked. “The marquess.”
“I like to believe that if he did, he would have reached out to you.” Kincaid stroked her arm. “From everything I’ve heard, Dorchester is a hard, but fair man. Which leads me to suspect your mother never told him she was expecting before she left London.”
Joanna sat up. “Then why go to the trouble of stealing the ring after all these years?”
Kincaid had asked himself the same question, and he thought he finally had an answer.
“You also have a half-brother, Miss Thorncroft. Three years older. The Earl of Hawkridge.”
“I am related to a duke, a marquess,andan earl?” She gave a quick, disbelieving shake of her head. “Evie is going to besojealous.”
“Apparently, the earl is about to propose. As I said initially, heirlooms are quite important to the aristocracy.”
“You’re saying my half-brother stole my mother’s ring to use for hisengagement?”
“Indeed.”
“But that’s ludicrous!” she exclaimed, jumping off the bench in a swirl of indignation and blue skirts. “Why couldn’t he just buy another ring? Why did he have to takethisone? Does he have any idea the trouble he has caused?”
“I don’t know,” Kincaid admitted. “But I intend to find out. There is a ball in two days at the private estate of the Countess of Beresford, and the Earl of Hawkridge will be there. I’ll speak to him, explain the situation, and see if he is willing to return the ring. Hopefully, he’ll have no issue parting with it once he realizes how much it means to you and your sisters.”
“Hopefully,” Joanna repeated darkly, her brows drawing together. Then her expression abruptly lightened. “I have a brother, and a father, and agrandfather. And a great-aunt, and a cousin! Will they all be at the ball? What should I wear? Oh, Evie is going to beside herself when she finds out where we’re going. I’d best tell her as soon as possible. It’s going to take her a week to prepare, and we’ve only two days.”
This was the part Kincaid had been dreading.
He cleared his throat, where the lump had nearly doubled in size, and rose to his feet. “Miss Thorncroft—”
“You keep calling me that,” she interrupted with a smile. A smile that gradually faded as she studied his face. “Kincaid, why do you keep calling me that?”
Because I need the wall to go back up between us.
Because I cannot allow myself to love you.
Because you are better off without me.
“We have reached the end of our week-long trial, Miss Thorncroft.”
“Yes, but—”
“Seven days. That was our agreement.”
Her mouth opened. Closed. “What—what are you saying?
