“You lied about Charles?” Was this what she’d meant about her memory being vague? “Forgive me. I’m confused.”
“Not Charles. I lied about the child your mother took home. No one could have been more shocked when she gave birth to twins.”
ChapterSixteen
What did one say to a man whose world had come crashing down for the third time? Helen had never felt so darned helpless.
Nicholas sat staring out of the carriage window. He had not taken the news well and had been lost in thought since leaving Mrs Abbott’s home. It was hard to accept his mother had given birth to a child out of wedlock, let alone learn he had another brother he knew nothing about.
Needing to comfort him, she crossed the carriage and sat beside him. She didn’t speak, but captured his hand and held it tightly.
He cast her a sidelong glance, the corners of his mouth curling into a sad smile. “Sorry I’m so quiet.”
The instant rush of love left a lump in her throat. “You don’t have to explain. I just want you to know I’m here for you.”
They had spent too much time hiding their feelings.
She refused to do so again.
He squeezed her hand. “How could my mother keep such a secret all these years? Did she not think I had a right to know?”
“Perhaps Esther was ashamed of the truth. Perhaps she tried to bury the past and didn’t want to cause more heartache.”
“What did she do with the child?”
Many childless couples would have welcomed a bundle of joy. And Mrs Abbott explained how Esther wanted to deceive Robert Holland the way he had deceived her, to deprive him of his son.
“She will have made sure he went to a loving home. Her father couldn’t have known, as he would have sent the babe to Oakmere.”
Nicholas scrubbed his face with his hand. “I need to drag myself out of this melancholy. You need a man who can take control of the situation, not a boy wet behind the ears.”
She brought his hand to her lips and pressed a lingering kiss to his knuckles. “Nicholas, I need a man who is honest about his feelings. I need you, and mean to help you through this troubling time.”
He stared into her eyes, inhaling deeply. “I love you. I don’t want a life without you, Helen. We must solve this crime if we can ever hope to be happy.”
“Then let me tell you what we’ll do.”
He nodded. “I’m glad one of us can think clearly.”
As he had just said, there was too much at stake to dally.
“On our return to London, we will attempt to identify your brother. We know he is thirty-two and that it’s possible he was being blackmailed by Mr Holland.”
“There’s a chance he’s the murderer. That means one of the men at Lady Brompton’s house party might be my brother.”
Helen considered those in attendance. “Mr Thorndyke is the same age and build as Mr Holland. I believe Lord Bowden is thirty-one, but his parents may have lied to him.”
“Chadderton and Hargreaves are both twenty-seven.”
“I think we should focus on Mr Thorndyke.” And yet instinct said he was not Charles Holland’s twin. Oh, it was all so confounding. How did a woman find parents for a child? Find a couple she could trust to keep her secret?
The answer slipped into her mind like a gift from God.
Captain and Marjorie Russell.
“Nicholas, perhaps the payments your mother made to Mr Hatton were not for a debt she owed to Marjorie. Perhaps she paid towards the upkeep of her child.”
He sat quietly, contemplating the information. “Then we will head to Windsor once we’ve met with Aaron Chance and question Mrs Russell.”