Emmaline, and Raphael hitched one leg against the armrest next to her, half-leaning, half-sitting as he sipped a glass of red wine.
As per usual, Gabriel— who took up the most room— lurked in the shadows by the doorway, silent and grim as a reaper.
Felicity found herself afraid he would slip away if she didn’t keep checking on him. He’d changed his clothing, securing his collar very high to his chin, concealing what she was certain to be an ugly line around his throat.
She wanted to see it. To make Titus examine it.
She wanted him to look at her.
Nora, the eldest, was doing her best to digest the story by asking Emmaline gentle questions. “So, this Sir Reginald… He was your mother’s brother, and not a blood relative of ours at all.”
Emmaline nodded, sipping some hot tea splashed with brandy. “He is— was— a monster. He consistently threatened my brother. Our brother, who is a kind and tender soul. He dragged me this morning from the hospital with threats against not only him but Rosaline, as well. You see, he had… unnatural affections toward her. And Father did nothing.”
“He was not a man who cared for the comfort or happiness of his children,” Honoria said around a tight swallow, remembering, no doubt, that he’d callously married her off to a violent, criminal viscount.
Emmaline nodded her head in agreement, lips pinched against both physical and emotional pain. “Our father provided us extraordinarily little upkeep after he found out about Emmett’s… proclivities. He left instructions for us to find people to marry and care for us. Uncle Reginald had been leaching off Mother ever since she’d fallen ill with the cancer, pretending to the world that he was the one helping us.”
“Why did he decide to call you Mrs. Winterton?” Honoria placed an idle hand on her round belly, her ebony brows drawn together. “Are you married?”
“No, but I am ruined,” she answered honestly, her pale cheeks regaining some color in the semblance of a blush. “There was a… proposal— it doesn’t matter— Father decided that if I was Mrs. Winterton, it lent me respectability and people who even noticed me would be too polite to inquire whether I was a widow or estranged.” She let out a beleaguered sigh.
“It is such an injustice that we are slaves to the whims of such men as these,” Mercy said vehemently, glaring at everyone in the room guilty of claiming the opposite sex. “I’m glad you are rid of this Reginald. And our father, all told, he treated you most abominably.”
Emmaline shook her head with an incredulous expression while she self-consciously did her best to tuck her unruly hair back into the knot it wanted to escape. “I can’t apologize enough to you all. I wish I could fix the damage I’ve done. Especially to you, Felicity, for the danger I brought to your door.”
Setting her teacup down with a clatter, she grasped Felicity’s hands and held her gaze with one comprised of tears and trepidation. “Thank you for being kind. I understand if you want to throw me out with the rest of the rubbish, but I wanted you to know that you are one of the best people I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing, and I will always be grateful for the times we shared.”
When she would have pulled her hands away, Felicity gripped them tighter. “You’re not rubbish. You’re family.”
Everyone made gentle noises of agreement, which caused the tears gathered in Emmaline’s auburn lashes to spill over onto her cheeks. “I suppose I need to return to Fairhaven and inform Rose and Emmett that they are free… finally free.” The word produced a watery smile.
“Tell them you are all part of the Goode family now,” Felicity said, a decision firmly solidifying in her mind. “And bring Emmett here, of course, so that he might take his seat as the Master of Cresthaven and the proprietor of father’s shipping empire.”
At that, everyone started talking at once.
“Let’s not be hasty—”
“We’ve never even met—”
“What are you going to do if you give away everything—”
“Felicity, perhaps we should discuss this before you—”
Putting up a hand, she waited until they’d fell into an astounded silence. “There’s nothing to discuss, I am quite resolved. If I failed to marry into nobility, Father made unerringly clear that I get nothing and the next in line gets everything. However, if Reginald did one thing, it was to bring to this house evidence of an heir. A true heir. All