Page 62 of Lady of Charade
Lady Alexander nodded. “I did.”
“So you…” as it all became clear, betrayal began to creep into Sarah’s soul. “You knew who I was. On the ship. It was not a coincidence that we became acquainted.”
“It was not,” Lady Alexander said unapologetically. “Lucy and I have been friends since we were children. I knew your mother as well, although we were not… close. I was the daughter of the local magistrate. I actually met my husband while he was in the country with his family visiting the Earl.”
“We spent an entire summer together, the four of us,” Mrs. Baker said bitterly. “However, years later, one of us became Lady Alexander, the other Mrs. Baker.”
“I’m afraid I do not understand,” said Sarah, her mind whirling and a swirl of emotions roiling within her belly. “I thought my mother and the Earl were together. Was that not how… I came to be?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Baker said. “Because your mother was willing to spread her legs.”
Sarah gasped, and Lady Alexander held out her hands between them.
“That’s enough, Lucy,” she said, then returned her gaze to Sarah. “As Mrs. Baker explained, she and Lord Torrington spent much time together, though it was not romantic.”
Mrs. Baker began to protest, but Lady Alexander shook her head.
“I am sorry, Lucy, but that is the truth, as you well know.” She turned her attention back to Sarah. “Through Lucy, the now-Lord Torrington met your mother and he was captivated by her. They began a love affair, one which, as an observer, I can tell you was felt equally by both sides. Each summer they came together at the estate, until one day, your mother just… left.”
“She was pregnant with you,” said Mrs. Baker, “And knew the Earl’s family would never allow such a relationship.”
“You knew of me?” Sarah asked, her voice slightly breaking. Her entire life, she had family and had no idea.
“I did,” said Mrs. Baker. “Your mother wrote to me.”
“So why… why am I here? Why did you write me such a cryptic letter, and not tell me of all that you knew?” Sarah brought a hand to her forehead as she thought of how much time she had wasted looking for the man when her aunt — and Lady Alexander — had known of his identity all this time.
“Because it quickly became apparent that you were just like your mother — that you would not be out for revenge, as I was.”
“Revenge for my mother?” Sarah asked, confused.
“No,” Mrs. Baker said sharply. “Revenge forme. The Earl had his fun with two country girls — sisters — but it wasn’t right. Not at all. It has been years, but he should get what is coming to him — a bastard daughter, to ruin the perfect life he has created. Once you showed yourself to him, I planned to pay him a visit to arrange a deal of sorts. If he provided you with the fortune to which you should likely be entitled to anyway, you would leave his life forever. And, for creating the deal for you, I would receive part of that fortune in turn.”
Sarah brought her hand to her breast, rubbing a fist against the place where her chest was beginning to ache. She had come to England to find family. Having none before, she now knew the identity of both her father, as well as her aunt. And neither had proven to care at all about a family connection. One wanted her out of his life, the other wanted to use her for her own gain.
“Mrs. Baker,” she said slowly. “I am sorry you feel this way, that you have been slighted by the Earl. I do understand why you must feel so hurt.”
Mrs. Baker snorted. “I am nothurt. I am angry.”
“Very well. I understand your anger. But you must know, I will not ask the Earl for anything. All I wanted was his acknowledgment that he was my father, even if it was only privately to me. I wanted to know what he was like, to have that connection with him. I have been disappointed — by him, and now by you. Do you have no wish for the two of us to better come to know one another? I am your niece.”
She heard the break in her voice, but no longer cared. “Do I have cousins? An uncle? And other aunts or uncles?”
“I was not able to have children,” Mrs. Baker said bitterly. “My husband is dead, and it was always just me and your mother as our parents died young. I am alone in the world.”
Sarah stood, walking over to the woman’s chair. She knew what it was like to feel that there was no one else to rely on, and now it began to make more sense why she was so angry.
“I am your family, Mrs. Baker, if you will allow me to come to know you better.”
She placed her hand on the woman’s, but Mrs. Baker flung it away.
“I have no wish for you in my life, unless it is to bring me my fortune,” she said, her eyes so accusatory that Sarah nearly flinched. “You seem to me to be exactly like your mother, and she brought me nothing but pain.”
“My mother spoke little of her past,” Sarah said softly. “But I do recall her mentioning a sister once. She said that you disapproved of her choices.”
“That is an understatement.”
Sarah hardly knew what to say. She was shocked at all she had heard since she had walked into Lady Alexander’s drawing room. She looked to the woman now, who maintained her stoic countenance, although if Sarah wasn’t mistaken, she was looking at her with some pity.
