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He touched her hand. “You were left at Underwood, Miss Perkins?”
“I was.”
“You have red hair.” His hand lifted to her hair. “You said she has freckles, Your Grace?”
“She does,” Edgar replied, moving closer to them. “Scattered like golden stars across her nose and cheeks.”
Mr. Lumley removed his spectacles. “Your mother had freckles and auburn hair.”
“Was her name Ann Murray?” asked Mari.
“Ann?” Mr. Lumley frowned. “No, her name was Pauline.”
“How strange,” said Mari. “There was a prayer book left with me at the orphanage inscribed with the name Ann Murray.”
“You were born at a nunnery,” said Mr. Lumley. “The prayer book must have belonged to another woman. Your mother’s name was Pauline, but I called her Clover, because of the color of her eyes. Do you have green eyes, my dear?”
“My eyes are blue,” she said. “Like yours.”
Tears streamed down Mr. Lumley’s face. Mari’s cheeks were wet as well.
“I didn’t know about you until three years ago,” he said. “Or I would have searched for you sooner. Why did the headmistress at the school tell Mr. Shadwell that you had died of a fever?”
“She hated me. It was only on her deathbed that she repented of her falsehood and called me to her side to tell me the truth.”
“And then you came here to London.”
“To find you.”
“I learned of your birth from your grandmother. It’s a very sad tale. Pauline and I ran off to Gretna Green to marry because her parents opposed the match. She was younger than I, but we were very much in love. She was highborn, and I was only a toy maker.”
Mari took his hand. “That’s a good reason for running away.”
“Her parents pursued us. They wanted to stop the wedding but they were too late. We were married and we consummated our marriage that night. They abducted their own daughter the very next day.”
“I don’t understand,” Mari said. “Why would they do that?”
“To keep the marriage secret. I thought they’d hidden Pauline away in Scotland somewhere. I searched and searched for my bride with no success. By the time I returned to London, they told me that she had died in a carriage accident.”
He broke down then, sobs wracking his body. Edgar gave him his handkerchief.
“I only found out recently that when they learned Pauline was with child, they sent her to a nunnery. She died in childbirth. And you were given to Underwood, with one of my wooden rabbits. The one I had given to Pauline as a wedding gift.”
Her mother had died giving birth to her. So many conflicting emotions churned in her chest. Sadness for the mother she’d never known; astonishment at discovering she had a father.
Mr. Lumley patted her hand. “I only wish I’d found out sooner. I gather from Mr. Shadwell that Underwood was a very somber sort of place. No place for a daughter of mine. I would have filled your childhood with laughter and with love.”
“I know,” said Mari. “I know you would have.”
Edgar smiled. “I had very similar feelings, Lumley, when the twins arrived on my doorstep. I would have given them everything if I’d known about them.”
“I’ve no other children,” said Mari’s father. “I never remarried. You have some distant cousins, though, my dear.”
“And I have grandparents in London?” she asked.
“I can’t tell you their names. It’s better if you think of them as being dead.”
“I understand,” said Mari. “You’re all I need. You are more than I ever thought I’d have.”
