Page 60 of To Break the Rules

Lucia nodded. “Anne-Marie was never cut out for motherhood,” she said, feeling no bitterness over the fact. “She is everything that is fun and vivacity. She is ridiculous and lively, and the most spendthrift woman you will ever meet in your life. I’ve known her to be generous to a fault, and quite spectacularly selfish, but without her I’d not have made it to England. I’ll never forget that.”

“So, you’ve lived as Señorita de Feria, daughter of a Portuguese courtesan?”

“Yes,” she said, feeling the pounding of her heart in her chest like the drumroll before the fall of a guillotine blade. “Not because I am ashamed of the truth,” she added, her voice severe. “Only because if Lord Ulceby had heard the slightest rumour, he would have come for me. He wants me dead, Silas. If I’m dead, the money set in trust will be his.”

Silas face darkened with a murderous glint, his jaw tightening, but he refrained from saying anything further than, “I understand.” His hand was warm and reassuring as it clasped hers, giving her the strength to continue.

“He’s tried to have me declared dead before, but Nani maa paid someone in India to write to the lawyers with updates about me, assuring them I would come on my twenty-first birthday to claim my inheritance.”

“She’s a wise woman.”

Lucia smiled and nodded. Just tell him, said the voice in her head, but the next words caught in her throat, George’s expression of disgust vivid in her memory. She couldn’t bear the thought Silas could ever—

“Dharani is your grandmother, isn’t she?”

She gasped in shock, her eyes flying to his to find nothing but warmth and love, and perhaps a little reproach.

“H-How…?” she stammered, not knowing what to ask, what to feel. “How do you know that?”

Silas smiled at her. “I didn’t, not until this moment, but once you admitted you were not Portuguese, it wasn’t so very hard to work out.”

Lucia gave a broken sob and Silas lost no time in hauling her into his lap. His strong arms closed about her and held her tight as he stroked her hair. “It’s all right, love. You’ve told me, and the world didn’t end. It changes nothing. I love you.”

“You d-do?” she managed through a storm of very unattractive sobs.

He pulled out a handkerchief and put it in her hands. “Of course,” he said, sounding a little impatient, though he was smiling at her fondly. “I can’t believe you’d think otherwise of me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” she countered, holding his gaze.

Silas stared at her and nodded. “You’re right. You had every reason to be afraid, but I mean to take that fear from you, Lucia. You can rely on me, I promise you that. I won’t let you down, not ever.”

“You never have,” she said, wiping her eyes and staring up at him as her heart calmed its frantic thudding. “So, I will have to start believing you, won’t I?”

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Tell me about your mother.”

Lucia smiled and settled back into his arms, her head on his chest. He always knew exactly the right thing to say, the right question to ask.

“She was beautiful.”

“Well, that much is obvious.” Silas chuckled, kissing the top of her head.

“Nani maa—my grandmother, Dharani, has always been a resilient woman. Her husband was a worthless layabout who drank their money away. Happily, she had a strong and loving family, and her father helped her get enough money together to start again. So, she took my mother when she was a child and left her husband. She moved from the north to Bengal and found work in my father’s household in Calcutta. As soon as she was old enough, Sharmila—my mother—found work there too.”

“A remarkable woman, your grandmother,” Silas said, smiling at her.

Lucia nodded, her pride in Dharani stronger than ever. “When my father’s wife died giving birth, Sharmila became ayah to his son, Alexander. My half-brother, I suppose,” she said, wondering what her life might have been like if the boy had lived. “My mother had him in her care from almost a new-born babe and Dharani said she loved him dearly, but he wasn’t a strong child.”

Silas took her hand again, tangling their fingers together as Lucia spoke.

“Alex fell ill when he was three years old, a dreadful fever. He died two days later. Dharani said both my father and Sharmila were beside themselves. They’d both adored him, and in their grief…” Lucia shrugged, feeling a well of pity for her father, who had lost so many of the people he’d loved and died far too young himself. “And I’m the result,” she said with a wry smile.

“What a lot I owe them,” Silas murmured, looking down at her with such love in his eyes that her throat grew tight. He traced the line of her jaw, touching her as though she were precious, as though he couldn’t believe his good fortune.

“I like to believe they’re together now,” she admitted, “that they’re watching over me.”

Silas let out a breath that wasn’t altogether even. “They’d be so proud, love. My God, everything you’ve endured, everything life has thrown at you and the courage with which you’ve faced everything. It’s astonishing. You are astonishing, and I’m so proud of you too.”