Mel looked at the three of them, standing in their nightgowns in the cold entrance hall, refusing to let her go without a fight. They were exceptional and extremely remarkable in ways that constantly surprised her, constantlychallenged her and constantly made her believe that the future might hold something other than the disappointments of the past.
And they were right, she was making an emotional decision. She was running away from pain rather than confronting it, which was exactly what she had counselled Rhys against doing.
“I overheard your father,” she said slowly.
“Last night. He was speaking with Lord Benedict about me, about us, about the impossibility of any future between a duke and a governess.”
The words came out heavy, freighted with the hurt she had been carrying since she heard them. The children listened with the particular attention they gave to information they deemed important.
“He said he could not wed a governess,” Mel continued. “He said I was too far beneath his station for society to accept. He said that any connection between us would be used as a weapon against you, would add to the burden you already carry as…”
She stopped, realising too late what she had been about to say.
“As illegitimate children,” Anna finished calmly.
“We know what we are, Miss Grace. Papa told us about Mama, about how they cherished each other but couldn’t enter into matrimony…”
Of course they understood, their father had told them the truth, had given them the knowledge they needed to navigate a world that would judge them for circumstances beyond their control.
“Then you understand why I have to leave. Your father sees me as an obligation. My presence here creates complications that he is not willing to accept. Staying would only prolong the inevitable.”
“Did you hear him say he wanted you to leave?” Viola’s voice was barely above a whisper, but the question cut through the air like a blade.
“I heard him say he could never enter into matrimony with me.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
Mel opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again. Viola was right. She had heard Rhys say that matrimony was impossible, that her station made her unsuitable, that society would use any connection between them as ammunition against his daughters. She had not heard him say he wanted her to go.
“He was explaining why he couldn’t be with me,” she said. “The implication was clear.”
“Implications are not evidence.” Anna’s voice had softened slightly, losing some of its courtroom formality.
“You taught us that too. You said that people often assume they understand implications when they’ve only heard part ofa conversation. You said that jumping to conclusions based on incomplete information is a logical fallacy.”
“I also taught you that when someone tells you who they are, you should believe them.”
“Papa told us who he is.” Thistle moved closer, close enough that Mel could see the earnest intensity in her eyes.
“He told us he cherishes us deeply. He told us he’s sorry for all the years he wasn’t here. He told us he wants to be better, wants to be the father we deserve.” She paused, adjusting her grip on Brutus.
“He told Viola that she has Mama’s eyes and that’s why he sometimes can’t look at her without crying. He told Anna that her stubbornness reminds him of himself and that’s why he worries about her. He told me that my wildness is like Mama’s fire and he hopes I never lose it.”
Mel felt tears threatening, hot and unwelcome behind her eyes. These were confidences she had not heard, private moments between father and daughters that revealed a depth of feeling she had not allowed herself to believe in.
“He cherishes you,” she said. “He always has.”
“He holds you in his deepest affections you too.” Viola’s voice was matter-of-fact, carrying the certainty of someone stating an obvious truth.
“We’ve seen it. The way he watches you when he thinks no one is looking. The way his voice changes when he talks aboutyou. The way he came back from London looking like his heart had been removed.”
“That doesn’t change the facts of our situations.”
“The facts change all the time. You taught us that. Scientific understanding evolves as new evidence becomes available. What seems impossible today might be possible tomorrow. The only way to know for certain is to keep looking, keep questioning and keep refusing to accept that the current answer is the final answer.”
Mel stared at her students, at the three remarkable children who had taken every lesson she had ever taught them and turned it into an argument against her departure. They were using her own words, her own principles, her own philosophy of inquiry and evidence and open-minded investigation.
They were beating her with her own weapons, and she had never been prouder of them.
