Page 36 of On a Midsummer Night
Oliver chuckled, but the sound was not merry. “There appears to be a great deal about my sister you don’t know, or else you wouldn’t think Cousin Lucy’s claims embellishments.”
“What are you saying, Oliver?” Uncle Charles tossed down his napkin and peered closely at his nephew. “Is there something we should know about your sister?”
Any response Oliver was to give was cut off by Henry clearing his throat. “It would seem to me that Miss Dalton’s business is hers to keep. No doubt her parents are aware of her circumstances, as Oliver is, and she should not be forced to share it if she does not wish to.”
This was not how Beth had envisioned the evening going, and she did not wish for her aunt and uncle to be enemies. By opening their home to her, they had allowed her to reconnect with Henry, forever changing her life.
These thoughts solidified her decision, and Beth smoothed her hands down her skirts as she said, “Aunt, you know those cards that you send to your friends?”
“The ones with the lovely colorful scenes?” Aunt Meredith cocked her head.
“Yes. Well, I drew them.”
Her aunt’s mouth opened and closed as if her tongue could not form a word. It was Uncle Charles who recovered first. “What do you mean, Beth?”
She met his gaze directly. “Those are my designs. I started drawing them whilst in Wales, and my father shared several of them with Lady Jersey, who is now my patroness. She has introduced me to printers and shopkeepers throughout Britain.”
“Goodness, that’s fantastic,” Uncle Charles exclaimed, smacking his hand against the table with a smile. “Good for you, dear.”
Her aunt shook her head in confusion. “I had no idea. I thought . . . I knew your parents struggled, and I thought if you were a companion to Lucy for the season, it would give them once less thing to worry about.”
Beth went still, her thoughts freezing into place. Whatever was her aunt saying?
“Ma’am, what do you mean about our parents struggling?” Oliver asked, his tone deceptively curious.
Aunt Meredith hesitated. “I’m referring to that bit of financial trouble they had.”
Oliver raised his brows, which flustered her aunt, for the woman looked to Uncle Charles, who had turned to stone. “Surely you know that your father misused your mother’s dowry?” she asked.
Beth sucked in a breath so quickly that she began to cough, quickly placing a napkin to her mouth to stifle the sound. She had no notion of how anyone else at the table responded to Aunt Meredith’s words, for her gaze was fixed on Oliver. He appeared perfectly calm, but Beth noticed the tight grip on his wine glass, his knuckles showing white.
“You are mistaken. It was ourgrandfatherwho misappropriated our mother’s dowry. In truth, he stole it.” His lips stretched into a macabre mimic of a smile. “And Uncle Charles here turned a blind eye to the theft until our father retired and learned of the misdeed.”
The air in the room was dense, and Beth exchanged a careful look with Henry. She offered him the smallest of nods.
“Charles, is that true?” Aunt Meredith demanded. When her uncle merely shook his head, a cloud descended over her face. “How could you? How could you let your father do that?”
“I didn’t let him do anything,” Uncle Charles retorted, the tendons in his neck showing taut. “I only stumbled across the discrepancy in the ledgers years later and pieced together what he had done. But by that point, Father was quite ill, and Annalise and the children appeared to be doing well. I didn’t think calling attention to the situation would benefit anyone.”
Aunt Meredith closed her eyes. “This whole time, you’ve led me to believe that Phillip and Annalise were irresponsible with their money, and instead, they had been horribly wronged.”
Oliver and Beth traded a glance, and she glimpsed some of her own anger in his eyes.
Uncle Charles took a long sip of wine and placed it down on the table with a click. “That was wrong of me to do. I was . . . embarrassed. That my father could do something so horrid and to his own family. I simply wanted to bury the truth of it.”
“By making our parents villains,” Oliver growled.
“I’m sorry.” Uncle Charles shook his head. “I’ve already apologized to Phillip and did so again when Beth was invited to spend the season with us. I wanted to make amends, even after I had the stolen funds returned to them.”
So that was why her parents encouraged her to accept her aunt and uncle’s invitation. No doubt they saw it as an olive branch, a chance to start anew. She wasn’t sure that she would have been so conciliatory.
Still, Beth peered at Lucy across the table, and her cousin flashed her a tremulous smile. Yes, coming to London had allowed her a fresh start and one she would not regret.
“Since we are disclosing secrets,” Lucy spoke into the silence, her voice small, but her head held high, “I think it’s important to tell you, Mother, Father, that I do not intend to marry Mr. Ramsgate.”
“No, we will not be marrying,” Henry affirmed with a nod of his head. “I’ve actually asked Beth to be my bride, and she’s consented.”
The room was still for a pregnant moment. Then Lucy jumped to her feet, her hands on her cheeks. “I knew it! I knew there was affection between the two of you.”
