Page 8 of The Secret Sister

‘You may see your sister,’ his mother corrected swiftly. ‘You must not think of her as yours, ever. She is your sister and will always be your sister. She can never be anything else.’

His mother stood, and dutifully he rose with her. As she swept from the room, Charles followed. His father choosing to remain by the fire.

His mother walked into the nursery and dismissed the staff who were milling around. The room was exactly as it was when his sister, Hannah, had arrived, seven years ago or so. Come to it, the nursery had changed little at all over the years. As the eldest child of the Greys, it had all begun with him. His brothers and sisters had come at regular intervals, but his parents appeared to have given up on more children after Hannah came along. He couldn’t say he was surprised. All those pregnancies and children must have taken their toll.

His mother stood by the crib, and cautiously he approached before peering over the edge. There she lay. Tiny, perfect; beautiful. The child lay staring up with bright blue eyes and tufts of fair hair sticking up. She waved a fist about until she found her mouth and sucked noisily.

He was utterly unprepared for the emotion that welled up inside him. This was his child. Part of him. Part of Georgiana. God, she even looked like Georgiana. He clamped his jaw shut and blinked rapidly.

He stooped to lift her from the crib, but his mother lay a hand on his arm.

‘Don’t do that. Don’t do it to yourself. She is not yours.’

He swallowed. ‘Just this once,’ he whispered, and heard his voice fracture. He pulled the coverlet back and gently lifted the infant.

‘Put your hand behind her head to support it,’ his mother said, and guided him until he had her settled in the crook of his arm. She looked up at him and waved a fist again.

‘Hello, Lady Eliza,’ he murmured, taking in every beautiful inch of her. She was heavier than he’d expected. Warm against his chest. He leaned down and kissed the downy head and breathed in the soft scent of her that went straight to his heart, and no matter how hard he clenched his teeth, or how much he cleared his throat, he couldn’t stop the tears that crept down his cheeks.

‘She is Eliza Courtney,’ his mother said.

Charles looked at her. ‘But if she is to be yours and Father’s child, she should bear his title.’

‘She will be Eliza Courtney, Charles. That is all there is to say.’ She paused. ‘It was her mother’s wish.’

Two weeks later, the announcement in The Times confirmed that the Whig politician, Charles Grey, son of the Earl Grey, was to marry Mary Ponsonby, etc. etc. etc.

Lady Elizabeth Foster sat on the bed with the Duchess of Devonshire and held her as she wept.

Chapter 5

HARYO

London

In the weeks that followed her mother’s return, everyone, it seemed, was visiting Devonshire House. Haryo liked their London home and very often her cousins would come to visit and play. Their cousin, Caroline, Aunt Bess’s daughter, in particular, was always welcome as they got along famously. That was to say, when Cousin Caro was in a good mood, they got on famously. Otherwise, things could be quite awkward. Today, she was happy and everyone had piled in, and the place was wonderfully noisy. There was enough going on elsewhere for the grown-ups not to care too much about what the children were doing.

They were out on the lawn when her mother arrived, and she ran down to where all the children were playing, arms outstretched, and Haryo threw herself into those waiting arms. Her mother really was the most wonderful person in the world, and she loved her so terribly much. After Georgiana had hugged all the children, they played tag and ran about shrieking and laughing. So much so that her aunt Bess came to see what the fuss was about and joined in.

When, hot and tired, they all lay about on the grass, the gentlemen came to find them. Her father, accompanied by his beloved dogs, arrived with a man she had never seen before. Haryo sat up and looked at the newcomer with interest, as did the other children. Haryo had to hold up a hand to shade her eyes from the sun to get a better look. When she got a glimpse of him, she stared, completely spellbound. Who on earth was he?

He was quite possibly the most handsome man she had ever seen in her entire life. Tall, very tall indeed, and slim, quite unlike her father, who was quite portly around the middle now. She had to look away when the dogs bounded over to the children and demanded a good deal of petting whilst trying to lick faces. Haryo squirmed and laughed as one pup with silky ears wriggled in her lap, yipping and covering her in kisses.

The adults conversed, and Haryo kept one eye on them as she played with the dogs. There was a lot of laughing and good humour from her aunt and the new man.

‘Who is he?’ Haryo asked Cousin Caro.

‘No idea.’

‘I think he is Lord Granville Leveson-Gower,’ Gee said. ‘I heard the servants talking about him. Apparently, his name is written down Leveson-Gower, but pronounced, Looson-Gore. It’s a bit strange if you ask me, but he’s terribly handsome, isn’t he?’

‘I’ll say,’ Haryo said, looking again at the paragon that walked among them. He had the most stunning eyes. Bright, shiny blue in a sharp face that smiled a lot.

He came over to be introduced to the children and, indeed, Gee had been right. He was Lord Granville Leveson-Gower, apparently pronounced Looson-Gore. When he bowed over Haryo’s hand, she was fairly sure her mouth hung open.

When the adults walked away, and Miss Trimmer called them in for supper, Haryo watched him leave. Long, slim legs and broad shoulders, with dark hair that curled just a little about his ears. He was lovely.

Later in the week, there was a lot of excitement as her parents were hosting a ball. Devonshire House, Haryo already knew, was famous for its fabulous parties, mainly because her mother was so beautiful. Haryo loved to see her dressed for parties because she always looked like a princess. She did her hair up incredibly high, adorned with feathers and all manner of jewels. It made her look like something from a fairytale. How Haryo wished she would grow to be beautiful like her mother, but she’d overheard Miss Trimmer say she and Little Gee were likely to be plain. It saddened Haryo, but at least her mother was beautiful.