Page 37 of The Duke's Bride in Disguise
Chapter Eight
It made no sense, Ava thought for the hundredth time, as she reread the page she had stolen from Mrs Raab's office.
The ledgers had been arranged in chronological order and Ava had easily managed to find the year of her birth, 1798, and within that ledger the month of October.
"October tenth," Mary had murmured helpfully, when Ava had hesitated.
"I'd always wondered," she had replied with a slight smile, before leafing through the pages until she reached the tenth of October. There, in faded, black ink, was a short paragraph, in which Ava discerned the word "twins".
"This is it," she had whispered with excitement to Mary.
"Just rip it out," the lady's maid had murmured nervously in response, glancing over her shoulder at the door, "And read it later. We'd best hurry back before we're caught."
A clatter from the corridor outside the office had made both ladies jump, so Ava had hastily followed Mary's instructions and torn the page from its ledger.
Then, she had just had to endure the rest of Mrs Raab's tour, a guilt ridden journey home with His Grace, and tea with Emily's brother Theo and his wife—who had talked endlessly about her new drapes, before, finally, she had a moment alone.
In her bedchamber, with Mary peering over her shoulder, Ava had smoothed out the crumpled piece of paper and scanned it quickly.
Arrived, this afternoon, a genteel lady who birthed two girls, both healthy. The mother had been labouring for a day before her arrival, and following the birth, she complained of great pain, followed by a bleed, which led to her death. Her companion made arrangements for the removal of the body, but did not leave instructions for the care of the babes, except that one be named after the departed.
Ava paused and cast a sad look at Mary. "My mother bled to death," she whispered, as an unchecked tear made its way down her cheek.
"My poor child," Mary gave Ava's arm a squeeze.
"My poor mother," Ava replied gravely. The entry into the Asylum's diary had been cold and clinical, as though her mother had been a nuisance, rather than a person. It galled Ava that the woman who had given birth to her and Emily, had been reduced to nothing but a few sparse sentences. They had not even recorded her name, so she wasn't to know if she actually bore the same name that her mother had.
"There's more," Ava continued, as she noted an addendum at the bottom of the page.
