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Rufus stood a moment at Averil’s door. There were lights inside the house and he knew they were home, even if James hadn’t told him so when he’d returned from the police house. His uncle had been over the moon, gabbling about Beth and how happy he was. Eustace was there, too, and Rufus mentioned dryly that he believed they had promised him they’d stay at the castle, but both his son and his uncle were practiced prevaricators.
“Have you seen Averil yet?” Eustace demanded, when James had finally run out of things to say.
“I’m seeing her tonight.”
Eustace nodded, giving him a narrowed look. “You’ll need to smarten yourself up a bit, Papa.”
Rufus, who was still wearing his disguise, agreed.
Now here he was, clean and smart, looking every inch an earl, and he still hesitated to ring the bell. When he thought of the expression in Averil’s eyes, as she stood looking up at him in that dingy kitchen at The Tin Soldier, he was hopeful that everything would turn out the way he wanted it to. But then he remembered the scene at the castle, when she had walked away from him, and was cast into doubt once more.
If her answer hadn’t meant so much to him he wouldn’t be so anxious. The thought of a life without her in it was almost unbearable. With a soft groan he finally reached up and rang the bell.
The maid opened the door and peered up at him.
“Lord Southbrook to see Lady Averil,” he said brusquely. “I have some important news for her.”
“Oh. Lord, eh. I’ll just . . .” And she hurried off. Rufus sighed, expecting to be told to go away, but she was back a moment later, informing him that Lady Averil would speak to him in the parlor and to please follow her.
There was a fire in the parlor and a lamp turned down low on a side table. He removed his hat and coat, and then went over to the hearth to stare into the flames. She was going to speak to him then, at least that was something. Although listening to him might be another matter entirely.
He recognized her steps approaching, and then the door opened and there she was. She was wearing a plain blue dress with a single row of lace at the neckline, and her hair was fashioned into a simple knot on top of her head. But then she didn’t need adornments; she was beautiful enough without them.
“Lord Southbrook,” she said, and he thought she was struggling to sound as if she didn’t find it surprising he had called upon her at such an odd time.
“Lady Averil.” He bowed. “I have something to tell you and I thought you would want to hear it as soon as possible.”
She tipped her head slightly to the side, searching his face with her straight, clear gaze. Oh God, how he had missed that look. How he had missed her.
“What is it?”
“I’ve found your sister, Averil.”
She blinked, and then she smiled. “It’s Violet,” she said.
“How did you know?” He was surprised and perhaps a little peeved that his grand gesture had fallen flat. “Sally Jakes has only just confessed it to me.”
Averil reached into the pocket of her dress and drew out a folded letter, handing it to him. He took it and slowly unfolded it, watching the firelight flicker over her face, reflecting the gold specks in her gray eyes. He took a moment to cast his gaze over the appalling writing, but he was able to read enough to understand what had happened.
“Sally admitted it at the police house,” he said, returning the letter. “Violet was your mother’s child and she asked Sally to care for her, according to Sally. Anastasia was afraid Percival Arnutt’s parents would turn the child against her, at least that’s what Sally says. I think she just wanted something of your mother’s, either because she was jealous of her or because she loved her. Both, perhaps.”
Averil sighed. “I’m so glad I know now. I’m so glad I’ve found her. And do you know,” she added, leaning toward him in a confidential manner, “I like her. She’s a brave and good girl, she cares about other people, and she wants to help them. And I can help her to do that. If she’ll let me,” she added wryly. “I think Violet is the sort of person who may object to me wanting to share my inheritance. She’ll see it as charity.”
Rufus laughed softly. “You’ll be able to persuade her.”
She smiled back. “I hope so.”
“Actually I have something for you and Violet. From Sally.”
He removed the crumpled, folded sheet of paper from his pocket. Averil took it as if she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. She straightened it gingerly and held it to the light. Her gaze ran down the lines to the signature at the bottom and her eyes widened.
“Oh.”
“Your mother wrote it before she died, Averil. Sally kept it all these years.”
Averil didn’t seem to hear him. She had begun to read.
