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The woman touched above her own breast. ‘I saw the mark. My husband’s sister had one on her arm. She’s passed now. And one of my daughters has a smaller one on her back and one has one on her scalp, which is hidden completely by her hair. I doubt my husband is even aware of his daughters’ marks.’ She examined Melina. ‘You have the same nose and perhaps profile of my daughter, as well. My husband doesn’t know—but I saw the painting of you. I always made it a practice to see his showings.’ She shook her head. ‘He never thinks to ask what I do when he paints. I truly think he doesn’t know the world exists at that time for other people.’
‘I did not mean for you to discover...’ Melina felt she’d betrayed her father. Although she didn’t think he deserved kindness on her part, she didn’t wish to create problems.
The woman rubbed her right hand against the rings on her left, which she wore over her gloves. ‘When I saw you in my house, I near had an apoplexy. It took me a day to think about it before I truly accepted that you were in England. I decided to find you. All I had to do was get in one of those dreadful hackney carriages and say I wanted to go to the Earl of Warrington’s home.’ Her eyes, wreathed in wrinkles, deepened into smugness. ‘And to know about my husband’s other life—I was fairly certain years and years ago. More than a decade, I would suppose.’
‘You spoke to him about it?’
Her eyes flashed anger. ‘I saw no reason to speak my doubts if he would not speak his deceit.’ Her ringed fingers fluttered again. ‘No. I saw no need to talk to him about this. I could not confront—accuse—and demand confession. He would have professed innocence—and other than hiring a man to follow him on a sea voyage, I had little chance of proving my suspicions. I was content to wait, knowing the truth would surface.’ She pointed a gloved finger at Melina. ‘It does, my dear. Remember that and it will help you sleep better at night.’
‘Why did you suspect?’ Melina hadn’t expected the woman to be so calm about something that should have caused such intensity.
‘Too much secrecy. Too much contentment to be from England for long spells. And when I first viewed his painting of you, I saw it at a sideways glance and assumed he’d painted my daughter with a different hair colour. But why would he paint her years younger than she is? Then I saw the shoreline behind her. The sea. Hmm.’ She touched a gloved finger to her cheek. ‘He told me, and yet, he didn’t know he did.’
‘You were content with it?’
She shook her head. ‘Absolutely not. But it makes little sense to move from a man who is hardly at home and seems to care little when he is. Why make a change when there wasn’t a need. My secret, you see. He left for the island. I waved goodbye with a stoic promise I would try hard to survive while he was gone—and cherished the imagination of storms at sea. If he never returned, I would toddle along as always, wearing a lovely shade of black for a while. When he did return, I toddled along as always, wearing a lighter shade of black, for myself.’ Hurt flashed behind her eyes, but was replaced with a wide, innocent blink. ‘He does not touch me. I told Lord Hawkins my physician diagnosed a serious female complaint for me—and described ghastly lesions, bloody flux and being treated with leeches. I showed him a handkerchief covered in blood.’ She shuddered. ‘The poor maid had fallen and broken the mantle of a lamp, gashing her hand. But he didn’t know.’ She patted her silver hair. ‘My children—I love. My husband—he is like a picture on the wall to me. I have him for display on occasion.’
Melina smiled at the thought of her father reduced to a painting. ‘I was furious. I never suspected him married to someone else.’
‘The question probably did not enter your mind with as much insistence as it entered mine. I had months and months to think of nothing else.’
The older woman took a breath, and her eyes darted to the side. This time, Melina could see the struggle she used to keep her voice light.
‘Do you mind telling me the particulars?’ Lady Hawkins asked. ‘Why you came here? Your mother? Other children?’
‘I have two sisters and my mother died. No brothers.’ Melina looked to the window. ‘I needed to come here to see if I could find a way to fund a dowry for my sisters.’ She smiled, her gaze locked to the wall. ‘Our lives are not the same as here. I cannot believe what I see. The plouti, gold and silver—for buttons or spoons. Even the servants have fine clothing.’ She thought back to the island and the contrast.
