His father wouldn’t have given his by-blow the nameLightholder. But his mother, as full of family pride as she had always been…
She might have, if she loved the child. He didn’t quite understandhowshe could love a child that was the proof of her husband’s infidelity…but then again, maybe he could. Didn’t he care for Iris, even though her very presence was ripping at the seams of everything he knew about his family?
So maybe it was true. Goodness. Maybe it was all true.
For years, Ezra had resented the coldness his mother had shown his father. He had always assumed it was because Peace was haughty and superior, thinking that Jeremy was below her in status.
But what if it had been because Jeremy had fathered an illegitimate child? And, if so, how had Peace come to care for the girl enough that she still visited Artemis’ daughter?
With a bitter laugh, he thought of the way his mother had always spoken so proudly of her charitable causes. This would have been the ultimate charity: raising her husband’s by-blow.
God, he didn’t know if that was admirable or hideous.
He must have sat there for ages, because the next thing he knew, Letitia was standing right in front of him, looking as though she had already called his name once or twice.
“Sorry,” he said, blinking up at her. She looked angelic, the sunlight gleaming behind her, setting her red hair ablaze. Firewas responsible for the most terrifying night of his life, but now, it brought him unspeakable comfort.
“It’s all right,” she said. “Areyouall right?”
He nodded, then shook his head, then shrugged.
“Peace was my mother’s name,” he said. The rest of it was too entangled to separate, even in his mind, let alone his words.
“Oh, Ezra,” she said, sinking to sit beside him. She took his hands. It grounded him. He wished he could hold on forever.
He shook his head as if he could dislodge all the spiraling thoughts.
“How did the interview go?” he asked. “Is that what you came to tell me about?”
She nodded and—to his dismay—dropped his hands. He tried to remain attentive as she told him about some governess that wouldn’t be her, but it was hard.
“You would recommend her?” he asked when she made it to the end of her explanation.
“I would.” Letitia’s smile was decidedly bittersweet. “I think she will get along well with Iris.”
“Good,” he said absently. “That’s good.”
He knew he was treating this matter like it wasn’t important when it was actually extremely important. But he had to trust that Letty knew that he knew that. Knew that he valued Iris immensely.
He just could not think straight.
“Thank you,” he said emphatically. “I know you didn’t need to be here, that you didn’t need to help with this. I just?—”
“Ezra,” she interrupted. “Stop. I am happy to help.”
She meant it, too.
He laughed.
“You’re too good, do you know that?” he asked.
She grinned. God, it was so easy between them, except for when it wasn’t.
He suddenly remembered something that he had nearly forgotten in the mental chaos of Iris’ revelation.
“I wanted todosomething to thank you,” he said. “Because—let’s be honest, Letty, you went beyond my wildest expectations with Iris. You weren’t even here the full month, and she can barelystoptalking now. And it just so happens that my cousin has a box at the opera. They’re doingThe Barber of Seville. You want to see it.”
Letitia had a look on her face that said she had so very many questions, but the one she settled upon was, “How did you know I wanted to see it?”
