Chapter 38
“T hat is enough!” Edward’s mother silenced the mania in the room. “June, dear, won’t you enlighten the curious people in this room regarding the parentage of your daughter?”
All eyes fell on June, who clenched and unclenched her fists, evidently uncomfortable with the attention.
“Well, I– I’m not sure I’m best placed…” June’s voice trailed off.
“It’s okay.” Andrzej appeared beside her– from where Edward wasn’t sure, but he was struggling to keep up with all the fresh faces entering the room. “We can go if you wish?” Andrzej’s voice was kind and gentle.
June shook her head. “No, it’s fine. It’s important people know.”
“If you are sure?” Andrzej squeezed her hand and Edward no longer felt resentful about their situation, whatever it was. But he needed to hear the truth.
All of it.
“Scarlett isn’t related to either of you boys,” June finally said, and Edward exhaled loudly. The relief was immense, and his mother reached over and squeezed his hand.
“Pull the other one, lady. I read the letters!” Miranda waggled her finger at June.
“You may well have read the letters, young lady , but I can assure you, neither Laird Cameron-Reid, nor his younger brother, Murray, was Scarlett’s father.”
“What does Uncle Murray have to do with it?” Leonard asked.
Edward saw his mother and June exchange a look, which he couldn’t place.
June continued, “The Cameron-Reids used to visit Bournemouth once a year. They had a house belonging to a distant relative, and your grandmother,” she said, looking at Edward, “enjoyed staying there in the summer. I met George and Murray when we were very young. My grandfather used to look after the gardens and grounds, and we used to play together as kids.” June paused for breath, grappling for the right words.
“During the last couple of summers that Murray visited, your father, George, was already married and had you, Edward. I’d always liked Murray.
Truth be told, I’d been in love with him for years.
” Edward watched as Andrzej circled his arm around June’s waist for support.
“That last summer, I was sixteen, he was seventeen, it was only us two, and we became lovers. He promised me the world.” She laughed and looked at the ceiling.
“Needless to say, he went back home to Scotland, and I never heard from him again.”
“Sounds like Murray, alright.” Verity’s voice was laced with contempt, which Edward found strange but dismissed it, still eager to hear the end of June’s story.
June tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, just like Scarlett often did. It prompted him to look around for her but he couldn’t see her. But he stayed put, needing to hear what June had to say.
“Anyway, I was heartbroken, and later on that winter, there was a lad I knew from school who took pity on me, and we spent a bit of time together. When he found out I was pregnant with Scarlett and he was the father, he couldn’t handle it and disappeared.
George, bless his heart, tracked him down a few years later.
He’d moved to Manchester and started another family, but he’d died in a horrible car crash.
He used to race cars, you see. Anyway, he left a widow and two young children behind. All very sad. And such a waste.”
“That doesn’t explain the letters?” Leonard didn’t sound convinced.
June looked across at Edward’s mother and the women shared a moment that no one else in the room could interpret.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” Miranda piped up again.
“Who is this girl that has so much to say?” Verity asked Edward.
“Nobody important.” Edward shook his head. “But why were you writing to each other?” Edward looked across at June.
“Your father came down to sell the house after your grandmother passed. He had no use for it. It was sheer chance we bumped into each other. I’d just been offered a job and was about to move us to Bath.
Scarlett was still very little, and George jumped to the same conclusion as some of you– that Murray was her father.
He sprang into hero mode because of Murray’s history of…
Well, that’s not my place to talk about.
Of course, I put him straight and refused any financial help, but we stayed in touch and became pen pals– friends, really.
He used to write about his troubles, and then, after your Uncle Murray’s death, we supported each other.
But friendship was all it ever was.” June looked at Verity, who cast her eyes down to the floor.
“He then offered me a job and a home, should I ever need it, and when a time came that I did, he kept his promise.”
“Piece of work that Murray was, the old bugger.” Leonard chuckled, the only one who found any of this remotely funny. “He was always a bit of a player but a good sport.”
Edward noticed his mother look across at Leonard with a pained expression.
“Ohhhh, this all makes sense now!” Miranda clapped her hands, walking further into the room. Thomas took hold of her as she stumbled.
“Good grief, child,” he muttered under his breath. “When will you ever learn?”
“Hush, me and you ain’t friends.” Miranda pulled away from him. “Leonard, baby, the joke is on you!”
Everyone looked on, confused. Everyone except June and Verity– who frowned, concern etched across both faces.
“There was a passage that I didn’t get. I get it now!
” Miranda was still swaying, although evidently enjoying herself.
“What was it now? It was addressed to her .” Miranda pointed at June.
“Although he obviously didn’t send it. What was it…
‘ He did it once. You can’t blame me for thinking he did it again.
Leaving others to pick up the pieces to look after his lovechild.
I know better than anyone .’ Or something like that and then he—”
“Missy, you watch what you say now. Some things cannot be unsaid.” Verity’s face was rigid and stern.
“I know you, ma’am– I know what you’ve done.” Miranda straightened herself and addressed Leonard. “The question we should all have really been asking is, Lennie, who was your daddy?”
At that moment, even with the harpist playing a beautiful rendition of Bach’s Wachet Auf , you still could have heard a pin drop.
Verity’s shoulders slumped, and June watched the scene unfold with sympathetic eyes. Leonard initially looked confused, but Edward saw realisation dawn in his eyes as they both reached the same conclusion.
This was why George Cameron-Reid had left none of the estate to his youngest son and why only if there should be no heirs from Edward would Leonard come into ownership.
It was the part of the will that had confused Edward, and the only explanation he came up with was that Leonard had settled in America and was enjoying their mother’s fortune.
Leonard had never shown any interest in Haddon House other than to sell it to rich investors.
But it ran so much deeper than that. The deception and humiliation his father must have shouldered, and yet he had still taken responsibility for Leonard.
That both sons looked so much like his younger brother must have been a daily torment.
Edward now understood why his father was so distant and reticent, and why their mother had returned to live in the States, away from her husband and sons. That was, of course, until Leonard moved there himself. But the rift between their parents must have been too wide to repair.
“Well.” An English voice spoke up. “To think I thought I was the one with all the problems. I only came to collect my ring and daughter-in-law.” Tara shook her head.
“I can only apologise for this somewhat embarrassing scene, Mrs Shrewsbury.” Thomas patted her hand, which still rested on his arm. “I believe we need to pull things back into some kind of order here. There is still a wedding to take place.” Thomas looked at Verity for support.
“Yes,” Verity responded, straightening herself. “Boys, this will keep until later. You both pull yourselves together, you hear?” She looked at Leonard, whose jaw was tight.
He raised his eyes from the floor to look at their mother with visible contempt and then scanned the rest of the room, his gaze settling on Thomas.
Most likely the idea of his future, particularly the financial aspect of it, brought him back to himself and he plastered a reassuring smile on his face.
“Indeed, let the wedding farce commence,” he finally said.
“Now then, son.” Thomas gave him a warning look and Miranda snorted with laughter.
“Miranda, that’s enough.” Leonard gave her a steely look.
“Let’s not pretend anymore, though. Yes, there will be a wedding.
There will be a child or children until there is a son.
We’ll all be rich beyond our wildest dreams. And then, no doubt, Ana?se will carry out the rest of her days with her lesbian lover. ”
Everyone’s jaw dropped.
Leonard continued to look at Miranda and then returned his gaze to Thomas.
“But at least there will never be a question of who the father is. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll freshen up for the big event.
” Leonard straightened and walked down the aisle and out of the room, leaving the others to process his words.
Edward scanned the almost comical scene in front of him.
The harpist was still playing on, whilst his mother collected herself and, with a stiff nod, left the room to get ready.
Tara was now comforting a seated Thomas, with Miranda hunched over in the row across from them, nursing her head.
Andrzej placed an arm around June’s shoulder, leading her out of the room too, but Scarlett, the only face he actually wanted to see, was nowhere to be found.