“Know what?” she demanded.

Crossing his arms, he said, “Where do you think you got that horrid red hair? And why is Leah blond when both of your parents had dark hair?”

The question took Catherine aback. The thought had never occurred to her before. She never spent time on her looks, especially having been buried in the country with no social life for five years. She had worried about her auburn hair before, long ago, when she was barely old enough to have a governess. Papa had assured her the deep red shade was lovely, just as she was. She’d never given it a thought since then.

Martin smirked. “Neither you nor that brat sister of yours is a purebred Crawford. Your mama couldn’t have children, Catherine. She tried, several times, and it almost killed her. The doctor told her there could be no children. Ever. That’s when Uncle got creative. He retreated with her to the country for several months after he’d gotten some actress with child. That woman came to Statham Manor and delivered her child here.

“Your mother begged my uncle for a baby.Youare the result of his liaison with a red-haired actress. Society never knew since they’d been in the country for so long. When they returned to London with you, no one questioned them.”

Catherine sat, stunned, comprehending the words he spoke but not understanding that they applied to her.

Martin began pacing the room, talking with his hands. “They tried one last time for a child, wanting a son and heir to Statham. Your mama made it almost six months before losing the baby. She lay close to death for weeks.”

Vaguely, she recalled when she was young how Mama had grown large and then taken ill. She’d been bedridden. Catherine had only been allowed to visit her once before Uncle Edward came and took her to London to stay so Mama could rest. When she returned to the country, Leah was here. Papa explained that Mama had needed peace and quiet in order to have Leah. That her little sister was a true miracle.

She looked at Martin, who wore an ugly smile.

“Leah is the daughter of another trollop. I think Father said some shopkeeper’s daughter. She was paid well for her services and taken in as a servant afterward. Her name was Jane, I believe.”

She drew in a sharp breath. Jane had been Mama’s personal maid. She’d left to marry a boot black after Mama had been killed and seemed sad to go. A sick feeling washed over Catherine. She remembered how pretty Jane was and how much Leah resembled the woman, especially now, at sixteen.

Dully, she rose, afraid she was going to be sick.

Martin smiled triumphantly. “Finally, you understand. I don’t consider you family at all. You may bear the Crawford name but your papa was foolish to do what he did in order to please his barren wife. I don’t want you or your sister around my children. I will keep this secret from theton—as long as you are gone from my sight by the end of the upcoming Season. Consider that my parting gift to you,Cousin.”

Catherine clasped her hands together. Rising, she quit the room with as much dignity as she could muster. As she retreated to her bedchamber, she knew Leah must never learn what had been revealed this night.

*

Leah looked outthe carriage window. “I see London!” she exclaimed. “It’s been so long since we were here, Catherine.”

She glanced out the window, unsure of how she felt returning to the city. Her last memories of London were of the carriage accident. Mama’s death. Her broken leg. Though the bones had knit together, Catherine now walked with a slight limp when she was tired. She couldn’t imagine what dancing would be like.

The thought of dancing made her think wistfully of Jeremy St. Clair. He’d been married for years now and must have children. She wondered if he and his wife ever came totonevents. If she would see him. If he would even recognize her. For a moment, her heart grew heavy, thinking of the young woman she’d been the night they met and how that woman no longer existed.

Leah sat back. “I still don’t understand why we’ve come to London so soon after Papa’s death. He was only buried a week ago and yet we’re here. Is it because it was too hard to be where Statham is?”

Catherine hadn’t told her sister anything regarding what the earl had revealed. Now, though, she needed to let her know why they were in London.

“First of all, there’s much to be done to open the London townhome again,” she began.

“You’ve already sent Jervis and two house maids to do that,” Leah pointed out.

“I did. They will have removed the sheets from the furniture and aired out the place. Much more needs to be done. I need to see if any repairs are in order. There’s staff to hire, including a cook.”

“Jervis could do that.”

“He has the authority to do so but it’s best to come from me. I want to make sure everything is handled properly so that when Statham comes to town, he won’t be disappointed.”

“Who cares if he is?” Leah said sullenly. “I don’t like him. Not one bit. He’s a pompous ass.”

“Leah!” Catherine exclaimed. “Wherever did you learn such language?”

“It fits him,” her sister said stubbornly.

Catherine chuckled. “I agree. There are other things to consider, though.” She paused. “I’m going to take part in the Season when it begins in six weeks.”

Leah’s jaw dropped. “What? We’re in mourning, Catherine. You can’t go to parties and balls!”