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Claytonhad instilled the trio of females at Fairhaven? Was that why he hadn’t sold the place? And if so, who were they to him? The woman didn’t really look to be Clayton’s sort, but perhaps…For the love of God, were those girls his brother’s bastard daughters? Had he done to those girls what their father had done to the two of them? Gabe felt sick all of a sudden.
“You know my brother?”
The woman shook her light brown head. “You don’t know who I am.” Then she stepped forward with quite a pronounced limp and offered him her hand to shake. “I’m Augusta. I’m your sister.”
Sister? Gabe blinked at the woman before him and his mouth fell open. “I-I beg your pardon?”
He noticed the youngest girl, peeking around the draperies to look at him from the window. She jumped back when she realized he’d spotted her.
“Let’s do have this conversation inside, shall we?” Augusta, his apparent sister, gestured to the open front door. She had an American accent, now that she strung more than a few words together, he could tell that. Was that—
Sophie came up beside Gabe and slid her arm around his elbow. He glanced down at his wife to see her looking just as confused as he felt. “Yoursister?” she whispered.
Gabe shrugged. “I have no idea,” he replied just as quietly.
As Augusta and the older girl continued inside the cottage, Gabe and Sophie trailed after them. Once in the foyer, Augusta closed the door behind the group and said, “Aurelie sweetheart, why don’t you and Ismérie put on a pot of tea and bring some of those biscuits we made this morning for your uncle and…” She glanced in Sophie’s direction.
“Oh, my wife, Sophia,” Gabe replied.
“…for your uncle and your aunt,” Augusta continued before limping toward the sitting room.
Gabe and Sophie followed her into the room and together they found a spot on a threadbare settee in the middle as Augusta chose a high-backed chair not too far away.
His supposed sister pulled out a handkerchief from a pocket in her serviceable dress and dabbed at her eyes. “Forgive me.” She sniffed. “I had not realized that Clayton had passed. I would have been more prepared for you if—”
“Clayton has not passed,” Gabe said. “He’s in a hospital in London.”
“He’s still at Rosewood?” Augusta heaved a sigh. “So it’s just happenstance that you’ve come to Fairhaven?”
Gabe sat forward on the settee. “Forgive me for sounding blunt, but I have no idea who you are or why you and your daughters are living at Fairhaven. And I would like some answers.”
A sad smile settled on the woman’s face. “I told him he should contact you, but…”
“But what?” Gabe demanded.
She shook her head. “He could be rather stubborn, our brother. A kind man, to be sure, but stubborn once he made his mind up about something.”
A muscle ticked in Gabe’s jaw. She still hadn’t answered a blasted thing and was talking about Clayton as though she knew him just as well as Gabe, perhaps even better. And something about that irritated him to no end. “Exactly how are you my sister?” he asked. “And I do hope you have some proof to your claim.”
Augusta sat back in her chair as though he’d offended her.
Sophie squeezed Gabe’s hand. “We did not expect to find Fairhaven inhabited,” she said softly. “We’re simply surprised is all.”
But Augusta shook her head. “You don’t have to soften his words, Mrs. Prideaux. I’m certain—”
The older girl rushed into the room with a plate of biscuits and placed them on the table. “Ismérie is crying, Mama.”
Augusta sighed and turned her glance back to Gabe. “It’s your uniform, I’m afraid. It brings back unpleasant memories for her.”
What the devil was any of that supposed to mean?
The woman gestured back to the open doorway. “Aurelie, will you please go to your Uncle Clayton’s desk? There’s a box in the bottom drawer and inside there are a stack of letters with a ribbon around them.”
“But Ismérie?” Aurelie asked softly.
“Tell your sister that your uncle has not come to harm any of us and ask her to please join us in here when the tea is ready.”
“Yes, Mama.” The girl nodded her head quickly before dashing from the room.
