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“You did not have to let him,” Blake muttered.
“I know.” Her chin wobbled. “I was young when I had you and scared. I thought he would kill me. I could not leave you alone in the world. What would you do if I was dead?”
His throat tightened and he stared at the letter in front of him, the neat handwriting a blur of dark against the pale paper, recalling being told of his mother’s abandonment of him, his father reminding him of the time his mother would be having without him on the continent.
“But you did leave.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “I did, and I am sorry, Jacob. I wish I had been stronger, I wish...” Her chest rose and fell as she exhaled. “I wish many things and I know it might be too late but I would like to at least be some support to you.” Her throat bobbed. “I cannot be a mother to you now, I know that, but perhaps we could at least...be friends?”
Blake closed his eyes briefly. He could not deny he’d resented her over the years but most of his anger was directed at his father. The brute had driven her off, just as he suspected.
“We could try,” he said quietly. “I am not making any promises, though.”
She offered a tremulous smile. “That is all I ask.” She reached across the desk again and he didn’t flinch when she rubbed her fingers across his knuckles.
First obsessing over Demeter and now practically forgiving his mother. What the devil was happening to him?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Charlotte always struck Demeter as a combination of her sisters. She’d joined their investigative club after aiding Chastity in a little matter of secrecy and attempted murder, and it was clear she had the determination of Chastity—but her effervescent energy made her think of Cassie. Few would look at the fair-haired, rosy cheeked woman and imagine there was a practical side, but there was even a little Eleanor in there, too.
Charlotte waved away the butler who was well-used to receiving her at the house by now, though the first time he’d tried to make the maid go around the rear of the house. “I do not have time to stay,” she said, her breathing ragged. “I need to get back to work.”
Demeter clasped her hands together. “Did you find out anything?”
“Not much, but my cousin’s friend who lived in Devil’s Lane for a little while used to drink with this man who knew Mr. Foster.”
Demeter blinked and forced herself to keep track of the thread. “Yes...?”
“Well, Mr. Foster was in London but a short while before he left and gained his riches.”
“Does anyone know where he came from?”
“The country somewhere. Fred was convinced he’d come from the north by the way he talked. He also said Mr. Foster never worked yet paid for his and Fred’s drinks.”
Demeter scowled. “I saw where he lived—it was a hovel.”
Charlotte nodded. “Fred reckoned there was something odd but Fred likes his ale. He’ll drink with anyone if they offer it.”
“Did he ever talk about his life before he moved here? Surely he must have talked about himself when in his cups?”
Charlotte shrugged. “Fred said the man rarely talked of himself and was usually asking Fred questions. He often bought drinks for others and would engage them in similar conversation.” She wrinkled her nose and held up a hand before Demeter could question her further. “Fred is not the most sound-minded of men,” she warned her. “He drinks daily. But he did say he was asking if there were people in the area who could help him with a letter.”
“A letter? Mr. Foster can write. I’ve seen as much. Why would he need...” Demeter gasped. “You do not think he was looking for someone to forge a letter do you?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Last year, Cassie became involved in a case where a will was forged. The men were held to account and it was thought all involved were captured but someone else could be offering the same services.” She pressed a hand to her mouth.
Now why did it not occur to her to investigate the idea Iris’s will might have been forged? How foolish she was. She’d been too wrapped up in being with Blake to even think on the matter.
“Oh yes, Chastity told me about that. Were they not rather dangerous people?”
Demeter nodded grimly. “They threatened Cassie and attacked one of our servants.”
“They were all imprisoned, though, correct?”
“I’m certain of it.”
