Chapter 19
Nessa did not sleep a wink last night. And for good reason!
She was not tired. Her mind was not clouded. Rather, she felt alive in a way that she did not know was possible, and she was possessed of a type of energy that could not be controlled.
It was the letter she had found that brought these feelings. Finally, Nessa knew who she was. She knew what she was doing here. The only thing she did not know was what she ought to do about it.
The second that the morning sun kissed the outside of her bedroom’s curtains, Nessa threw back her blanket, pulled on her robe, and hurried from her room toward the kitchens.
In times like this, it was not smart to sit silently with her thoughts because that would only make things seem worse and stranger than they were.
What Nessa needed was to speak them out loud, to confirm them as true, and to know without question that she was right to feel so … so … she was not sure!
I am excited, yes. I am relieved, in many ways. But there is a sense of worry gnawing at me, and I want nothing more than to dismiss such a thing.
She found Morag in the kitchen, as she knew she would. The smell of fried eggs and cooked toast filled her nostrils, and it might have made her mouth water was food not the last thing on her mind.
“Oh, you are up early,” Morag said when Nessa swept into the kitchen.
Morag was busy at the stove, her attention on the eggs in the pan.
“I’m glad you’re here, in fact. About yesterday, I was a little morose and not nearly as helpful as I could have been, Nessa.
But today is a new day and … what?” Morag looked up and saw the glimmer in Nessa’s eyes. “What is going on?”
“So many things, Morag. Can you speak?”
“I can …” Morag bit her lip, and her eyes flicked to the pan. “But I need to finish preparing breakfast.”
Nessa clicked her tongue and looked around the kitchen. While Morag was the head cook, she had other maids and kitchen hands rushing to and fro to help her with the preparations.
“Five minutes,” Nessa pleaded. “But not here. Somewhere we will not be overheard.”
“Nessa, what is going on?”
Nessa raised her eyebrows. “You’ll see. Please, five minutes.”
Morag relented, and after pulling aside two helpers to watch the eggs, she dragged Nessa into a large storage closet filled with foodstuffs. Once inside, Nessa closed the door behind them, double-checked that it would not be thrown open suddenly, and started her tale.
“I found a letter,” she explained in a hushed whisper.
“Last evening, it was tucked into the box that held the locket that Lady Honora left me. Hidden so that I was lucky to find it. I believe that Lady Honora intended to tell me herself, but she must have known that she was ill. So, I can only assume she wrote to me as a contingency in case …” Nessa’s throat constricted. “In case the worst might happen.”
“Explain what?”
Nessa was trembling, and she took Morag’s hands to steady herself. “I know everything, Morag. Who I am. Who my sister is – why Lady Honora brought me here in the first place.”
“You do?” Morag’s eyes widened. “Do you have the letter?”
“It is in my room, but it will be easier if I just tell you. There was so much …” Nessa laughed. “I do not even know where to begin!”
“The beginning is often the best place. Unless it is one of those stories with a twist, where we see how it ends before coming back to the –”
“Morag!”
“Right, sorry,” Morag grimaced. “You were saying?”
Nessa had read the letter a dozen times. In fact, she was certain that she could recite it by heart. There was no mistaking what that letter revealed, so Nessa did not hesitate to speak as if its words were the truth, no longer assumptions and false hope.
“You are aware already that I know little of my real father,” she began, squeezing Morag’s hands. “My mother rarely spoke about him, and I had no mind to ask her. I always assumed it was because she was upset or angry that he left … or maybe she worried that I would want to find him myself.”
Morag remained silent, waiting for Nessa to continue.
“Now, I believe it was because she did not want me to live on false hope, Morag. Or she worried that I might resent her for taking away that which is mine by rights.” Nessa shook her head and laughed.
“I still cannot believe it. All this time, I assumed my father was a fisherman, a trader, or a farmer.”
“What was he?” Morag pressed.
“I was right,” Nessa said, and her eyes shone with the truth. “My father is Lady Aisling Thornwyck’s father. Lord Byrne. Which means …”
Morag’s eyes widened. “You’re a lady!”
“Sshh!” Nessa hissed, even as she smiled.
“Sorry,” Morag winced. “But Nessa, that is … Wait.” She leaned back and frowned.
“Lord Byrne was married when Lady Thornwyck was born. He had to be, or she would not be considered his brood. And if he was married, does that not mean that you were conceived in –” She caught her tongue, unable to speak the words.
“Sin,” Nessa finished for her. “You can say it. Indeed, that was my first thought. But Lady Honora assures me that he was no longer married when he met my mother, and that they married legally in Ireland. My mother was Lady Byrne when I was born, Morag. I am his daughter, and legally speaking, that means …” She laughed and shook her head once more at the absurdity.
“It means that I am Lady Thornwyck’s half-sister. ”
Morag gasped, and she snatched back Nessa’s hands as if in reverence. “My Lady! I am honored to –”
“Oh, stop it!” Nessa snatched her hands back. “Do not dare.”
Morag grinned. “Sorry, I could not help myself.”
“Lady Honora knew my father,” Nessa continued, “and he confessed to her the truth. Apparently, my birth was considered quite the scandal, as was his marriage to my mother – she is Irish Catholic, and he is Protestant. I never considered how this must have been viewed, but considering that he is of the peerage, I imagine it is not something that is common or readily accepted. That is why he left. Not because he did not love her. And not because he hated me …”
A smile touched her lips, and a tear welled in her eyes. Oh sure, Nessa had already cried much the previous night, but saying it again brought the same reaction upon her.
All her life, she had assumed that her father had left because he wanted nothing to do with her and her mother.
But to know the truth of it, to realize that she had not been abandoned, was a feeling of completion that she did not know she needed: to be made whole, even when she spent her life refusing to admit that something was missing from it.
I do not think I have ever been so happy.
“Lady Honora wanted me to know who I was. She sent for me originally because she wished to take my measure, and when we grew closer, she decided that I deserved that which I was born into.” Her eyes glimmered.
“She brought me here so that everyone would know the truth, and so that I would …” She shrugged just as she laughed.
“I guess so that I would inherit what is mine. Is that not madness!”
Nessa trembled from head to foot. Her body was flushed with energy. To read Lady Honora’s letter last night was one thing, but to speak the words out loud was something else.
The truth was finally out there.
What Nessa did not expect was Morag’s less-than-thrilled reaction. She had her lips pressed together in a deep frown, with no glimmer in her eyes or sense of joy in her posture. If anything, she looked afraid.
“Well?” Nessa said. “What do you think? And what is that look?”
“Where did you say that letter was?” Morag asked.
Nessa blinked. “In my room.”
“Hidden?”
“Yes …”
Morag nodded, still appearing concerned. “I am happy for you, Nessa. Truly, I am. And please do not take what I am about to say as me being dismissive or unsupportive. Only …” Morag sucked through her teeth. “I am not so sure that this is the good news that you seem to think.”
“What? Why would you –”
“It will be,” she hurried. “I do not doubt that this will lead to wonderful things for you, Nessa. But with everything that has happened in this place lately …” She looked pleadingly at Nessa. “I am not so sure that now is the right time for such a thing – to tell anyone of the news.”
“I …” Nessa blinked. “Do you think they will accuse me of lying? Lady Honora has proof, and she has told me where to look among her things to find it. She has documents and everything.”
“It is not about proof, Nessa. But the timing is awful. With what we learned of Lady Thornwyck’s death, it might look as if you are trying to take advantage.”
“I am not!”
“I know that,” Morag pleaded. “But please, promise me not to do anything rash. There is no rush, and a secret like this is best coming out when things are not so troublesome as they are.”
Nessa scowled at her friend, her first thought one of anger. She had been so excited about this news that she had just expected Morag to feel the same way.
Only, as Morag continued to look pleadingly at her, Nessa slowly saw the good sense in her friend’s warning. While this was good news, it was not news that would be easily accepted. What was more, Nessa might very well be accused of knowingly keeping this secret from everyone.
Her stomach sank as the reality settled itself on her shoulders. And all that exuberance and energy she had carried since last evening evaporated so that Nessa suddenly felt very tired.
Morag was right … patience was needed … which meant more lies, more secrets, and more guilt felt at keeping things from people whom Nessa cared about.
From one person in particular.
“You are right,” Nessa sighed with despondence. “I will … I will not tell anyone. Not right away, at least.”
“I am happy for you, Nessa.” Morag pulled her into a hug. “Please know that I am.”
“I am happy for me, too.” Nessa forced a smile. “I just hope it lasts. From my experience, these things rarely do.”
***
Later that morning, Nessa decided to go for a walk.