Chapter 17
D orothy had expected Morgan to mock her for believing that she had seen a ghost. She had not expected him to take her to see it.
As they neared the west wing, she was positive that their house was haunted. She began to tremble, wishing she had never asked about it. She had heard the creaking floors there from time to time, and whispered voices, but she had thought it was her imagination.
They arrived at a door, and Morgan went to knock before pausing.
"All I ask," he said gently, "is that you do not hate me for keeping this from you."
"I do not hate you, and I will not. Come, let us see what this is."
With a deep breath, he knocked and then opened the door, walking inside.
Dorothy followed after him, and her breath was taken away. Inside the room was a pale girl, blonde hair in ringlets, who was looking at her with wide but sunken eyes.
"Hello," Dorothy said clumsily. "Who might you be?"
She did not know what else to say, but it seemed to work. The little girl smiled, and at once she seemed to be in better health.
"I am Catherine," she explained. "I am the Duke's niece. I am eight years of age and I like to play the pianoforte."
Dorothy turned to Morgan, who was looking at his niece with pride.
"It is lovely to meet you," Dorothy said gently, bending down to her height. "My name is Dorothy. Would you like to call me that?"
"I thought I might call you Aunt Dorothy, if that is all right."
"You may call me Aunt Dottie if it pleases you."
The small girl laughed softly at that.
"I like that a lot. I shall call you that, then."
Morgan sent for a tea, and they sat on a settee together. Dorothy could not take her eyes from the girl, but what struck her was how familiar she looked. She was a very pretty little girl, but something in her face was undeniably similar to a face that she had seen before.
"You may ask any questions that you have," Morgan said gently. "She knows everything that I do, and I no longer keep secrets from her."
"Then I should like to know everything. This is… It is a lot to see at once, especially with no explanation."
"Would you like to tell her, Catherine?"
The little girl nodded, and the tea arrived.
"My father is dead," she said bluntly, reaching for a sandwich. "My mother is, too. She drowned."
Dorothy thought back to her time in the lake, and that Catherine must have seen her do it, and shuddered. It was no wonder that Mrs. Herrington had been so furious; she could have been frightened.
"She went into a lake with me," Catherine continued. "That is why I am unwell, and why I am so small. It is quite all right, though, for I am very happy here."
"You are so well spoken. It is very impressive."
"I like to read. I have so many books, and so I have a big vocabulary from them."
"I love to read, too. Which books are your favorite?"
"All of them. I enjoy learning. It is all that I can do, really."
Dorothy looked in confusion at Morgan, who cleared his throat.
"You see," he explained, "I do not think it is wise for her to be out in society. I fear that, given the circumstances surrounding her birth, she will be rejected. Not that it is her fault, of course."
"No, it most certainly is not."
"It is all right," Catherine said meekly. "I know that it is for my protection. I understand."
But Dorothy's heart broke for the girl. She was such a wonderful little girl, intelligent and well-spoken and very pretty, and she would flourish socially if she was allowed to go outside.
"Perhaps one day that will change," Dorothy suggested, and Catherine's eyes sparkled while Morgan grimaced.
Suddenly, Mrs. Herrington entered. Her mouth fell open at the sight of the three of them.
"It is time, then?" she asked.
"Indeed," Morgan nodded. "It is time for all of us to know precisely what is happening here. That is why I am going to tell all of you that I will soon know the name of Catherine's mother, and then we will be able to visit her resting place."
Instantly, Catherine threw her arms around her uncle. Dorothy smiled at that, but then her face fell into one of confusion.
"Do we not know her mother?"
"We do not," Mrs. Herrington explained. "His Grace tried to find her, but it is likely that the name we were given was not her real name, and now we are quite lost."
"But if we find that letter," Morgan explained, "the one my brother left me, then we will know for certain who she was, and it shall be easier then."
After a while, they left Catherine to rest. It had been a meeting that the little girl had yearned for, as Dorothy came to know, but it had needed a lot of her energy, and she was very tired.
"Did you happen to find anything while redecorating?" Morgan asked her when they were alone.
"I did not. Then again, I did not touch your study, or the west wing. Could he have hidden the letter there?"
"I have searched my study, but there was nothing. I should look again, but I wish to investigate the west wing first."
"We can search for it together, if you wish. I would be more than happy to help you find it, especially for Catherine's sake."
"You… you took that news very well. You did not seem very surprised at all, nor angry with me when truly you had the right to be."
"I suppose it is because I understand. I have secrets of my own, after all."
He looked at her in surprise, and she took a deep breath.
"You wouldn't happen to know anything about my sister, would you?"
"I do not. Your father never mentioned her."
"Well, she was perfect. She was everything that I could never quite be. She was beautiful and intelligent and a favorite among the ton. She could have had her pick of any gentleman, but she ran away with a man with no title."
His eyes widened.
"That is why my father insisted that I marry well. We had to improve my family's reputation. I have not spoken with my sister for a very long time, and the only contact I have had at all is the letters she sent our parents, explaining the current fashions and telling them how to dress me."
"That explains the yellow and orange."
"Do not remind me. I much prefer these new gowns. In any case, I understand that families have their secrets. My only question is why you wish to keep her as one? It is rare to care for your late brother's child, but not unheard of. We might as well have it be known."
"Under normal circumstances, yes, but my brother and the lady were unmarried.
He had refused her, and when he died she realized that she was not going to ever have his support and so she took matters into her own hands.
Little did she know that I would have everything explained to me.
I could have provided for her, and I feel a terrible amount of guilt about that. "
"You did nothing wrong. Once you learned of it all, you took the little girl in, yes? That means that you have done all that you could. In the meantime, we must decide what is to be done about the girl, and finding her mother."
"And might I suggest you meet your sister again?"
Her shoulders slumped. She had wanted to see her sister for years, but it had never happened. Eleanor had made her choice, and she had never come back for Dorothy.
Then again, neither knew precisely what had happened. Their parents had told Dorothy their truth, but she wondered if Eleanor had another point of view entirely.
"I could try," she considered. "I do miss her, but she has made her choice. She likes her new life, I am certain of it."
"Even so, it would be nice for her to know you are well, and to see you again."
"Then I will write to her. I must locate her first, but at least we know her name. It shall be easier to find her than it will be to find Catherine's mother."
He nodded, and they began their search. They each took a room, and looked inside every book and in every drawer.
Dorothy tried with everything in her to find it, and she willed it to appear somehow.
She knew what it was like to have no answers about someone, and she did not wish that upon anyone, especially not someone so sweet as the child.
Giving in with one room, she moved along to the next.
She repeated the process, gently turning everything inside of it in the hopes of finding something, but there was nothing.
She sighed, sitting in a chair. She could hear Morgan searching in a more erratic manner than she had been, and she wished there was something that she could do to ease his concerns.
It seemed quite hopeless, and when they had searched every room of the west wing, and Morgan had searched his study again, they both sat in the parlor room, defeated.
"I do not know what to do," he said quietly.
"I must find her, for Catherine's sake, but I do not know what to do.
I know nothing about her, only that she had a dalliance with my brother and he refused her when the consequences arose.
I could give you a hundred other times where that happened.
This, to him, was just another mistake that he could leave for me to fix. "
"He did this a lot, then?"
"Never to this extent, and granted this one was the death of him, but it is something that I cannot fix. I cannot will a woman into existence, no matter how much I might like it to be so."
"But we will find her. It might be almost impossible, but we will do all that we can. The letter is here somewhere, and when we find that we can find her. We will do this."
Morgan nodded, but he seemed lost. Dorothy wished that there was more that she could do. She had never known his late brother, but she could see that he was a difficult man to handle. If he had left something for Morgan to find, he could have done absolutely anything.
"Might I be able to look at your study?" she asked suddenly, an idea coming to her.
"Of course. What do you plan to do? I have already looked everywhere, twice."
"Your brother, how did he die?"
"In a duel."
"Then I know precisely where to look."
She went into his study, and he followed behind her.
She found a small set of drawers on his desk, and opened each one.
They were filled with papers, but none of them contained anything of interest. However, as she searched them, she noticed that one drawer was shallower than the others.
Morgan had torn each room apart, and in his frenzy he would not have thought to carefully check if something had be properly hidden.
She lifted the drawers, and the bottom of the drawer gave way.
A small slat fell out, revealing that it had been a false bottom. Alongside it, to her astonishment, fell a letter.
"My God," Morgan gasped.
Dorothy picked it up and handed it to him. He scrambled to open it, and he read it quickly. As she watched him, she saw that the more he read the more concerned he became. When he had finished, his arms fell by his sides.
"Morgan?" she asked. "What is it?"
"It is nothing."
"Is it not the letter?"
"It is, but it… I need a moment."
He left the room, leaving her abandoned in the study. Her heart pounded as she tried to work out just what had happened. This was precisely what he had wanted, but the contents had devastated him.
She left the study, closing the door behind her. She considered going to see Catherine, but she wished to give her time. Morgan would have to see her first, and explain whatever was enclosed in the letter.
She went out into the gardens, instead, and hid away in the glasshouse. Work had begun, and it was already completely different. She sat on the ground, leaning back so that the sun was on her face.
After a while, she felt a presence come toward her. She opened her eyes, expecting to see Mrs. Herrington, but was greeted by her husband. He sat beside her on the ground, and she leaned against him.
"If you do not wish to tell me what is written," she said gently, "I shall not force you."
"I do want to tell you, truly I do, but it is a long story and it is something that I never planned to talk to you about."
"Well, there has been a lot that neither of us ever expected to say, and yet here we are. It is for the best, I think, that we are honest with one another now."
"If that is what you want, then that is what we shall do."
He sighed, sitting back.
"All of this began a very long time ago, and it is a time that I wish to forget."
"I understand. Truly, if it is too painful then there is no need to–"
"No, I must. It is not shameful for me, not anymore, but it is something that happened that I wish had not. It would have, it appears, saved an awful lot of heartache."
He sat in thought for a moment before opening his mouth again.
"You see, Dorothy," he explained, "I have been engaged before."