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Jay’s eyes flew open. What was his mother doing here? Last time, when he’d been taken away, she’d been purposefully out of the house.
His mother leaned against the door, turned the key and placed it up one of her large bell sleeves.
“What are you doing, Matilda?” His father spoke through his teeth.
“What I should’ve done a long time ago. We’re all going to sit here and say our piece, together.” She arched a brow. “Well, you shall sit, Jay shall lie, and I shall stand, but the concept shall be the same.”
“What’s there to say? I’m a failure. I’ll admit it. I’ve admitted it before. What do you want from me? I’m not and shall never be my cousins. I’m terrible with numbers. I did poorly in school. We all know about my character, and I’m weak. I crave opium in any form, no matter what it does to me.” Jay swallowed.
He was worse than that even, worse than they understood or even knew.
“I made so many mistakes. Even when I tried to do the right thing, I failed, hurt someone who should’ve been protected.” He closed his eyes. There was more. What he’d done to Urs—that was unforgivable. He’d never recover from that. “And I did something awful. I ruined the one person who thought more of me than I did, and I abused her trust and I—”
Jay couldn’t say the rest of the words. He couldn’t speak of how he behaved towards Urs, and what had occurred in the bedroom that last time, before he abandoned her.
“Miss Nunes, yes.” His father folded his arms.
Was that a note of disdain in the man’s voice? Bloody Hell. Jay pushed up on his elbows so he was sitting, scooted towards his father and matched his posture.
“Don’t you ever say one negative word about her,” he snapped.
“I wasn’t—”
Jay clutched at his frock coat so not to use his hands on his father as the unfairness of anyone criticizing Urs spiked through his blood. “First, she’s not her mother and no one has any idea what that poor soul endured. Second, I happen to like that she’s a Jew, not some boring, fussy-button, prudish Delaware deb
utante.”
The words tumbled out faster than the waterfall over the dam in Brandywine Creek. “I enjoy that she’s willing to try new things and doesn’t treat me like I’m worthless, but also doesn’t treat me as if I’m made of glass. She expected things from me. She relied on me and when I did something that pleased her I felt—but when I didn’t she never pretended, never—”
A pause echoed through the room, bouncing off the wooden door that locked from the outside. The scratch marks he’d made over two years ago were covered with thick paint.
“She sounds like a remarkable woman, but we all saw that when she visited,” his father said.
He pressed on his elbows and stared at his father.
“Well.” His father ran a hand through his hair and stared at his lap. “I have—”
“Your father means that he has an apology to give you. He’s been paying off any Tom, Dick, or Harry who comes to this house claiming you fathered an illegitimate child with an unnamed servant without requiring proof.” His mother sniffed, but her voice caught. “She told us about Sophie. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I should’ve. We both should’ve.”
Jay’s face burned. His father had believed he was capable of abandoning innocent children and of taking advantage of people with no status? Good lord. His own father?
Urs’ voice echoed in his ears.
I trust you, Jay. You’d never do anything to hurt me or force me to do anything I absolutely didn’t want to do.
His eyes misted. Love. She loved him, like he loved her or even more and he’d left her.
“Yes.” His father cleared his throat. “I’m so sorry, Jay. When Sophie’s son wrote me, I should’ve spoken to you. I paid him instead and tried to send you away—treated you like a child. I should’ve known you were better than that. Worse, I believed lies instead of seeing you for who you were. I mistook grief and pain for weakness. I was wrong and I’m sorry.”
Jay’s head spun. So much information. Was his father actually apologizing? What did this have to do with Urs?
His father wasn’t finished. “When she came, and put her own reputation in jeopardy, especially given her background, and the way she advocated on your behalf—in front of those vicious men and after, it appears, going to see Agnes and Priscilla Reed—”
Blast.
She’d gone there? Unprotected and permitted all of them to think that the two had done—well, what they actually did?
“When?” He choked the word.
