Was it any surprise the money ran out?
He may have swindled. But she spent as much of those ill-gotten gains as he did.
Syd was going to toss up her accounts if she did not get out of here right away. But how could she leave with so manyunanswered questions? What was true and what were lies? “Who am I, Papa?”
His pain seemed genuine, but he had gotten so good at weaving his stories, she could no longer tell. Perhaps he was so convincing that he had also convinced himself his lies were true. “You are my daughter.”
“And yet, he was ready to sell you to Sir Henry Maxwell,” her mother retorted. “Think of that, Syd. Would a true father do this to his daughter?”
No…but some did…but, no.
She hated to agree with her mother…or whoever this woman was to her. What loving father would ever sacrifice his true daughter? “I need to go. Octavian is expecting me. I dare not be late.”
“Yes,” her mother said with so much venom threaded through that one word. “Go home and tell him that you are not an earl’s daughter. Let him know that you are a nobody the Earl of Harcourt picked up off the streets. Won’t he be cheered? There’s an end to your happy marriage. His family will be tainted and his career in ruins once the scandal breaks. And I assure you, I will see to it. What have I got to lose now?”
Her harsh laughter resounded through the parlor.
Syd blindly raced toward the front door.
She wanted to get away from these miserable people and rush home to Octavian.
Home.
In truth, she had no home to truly call her own.
The Huntsford townhouse belonged to Ambrose, not to her or Octavian. Still, it was somewhere away from her family. It was where should would find Octavian, although who was to say when he would get home this evening? He had been working late all week on his presentation to the Admiralty which he claimed was almost completed.
What would she say to him?
She had to tell him the truth.
But what was true and what were lies? She would repeat the conversation and let him decide what to believe.
Greeves took one look at her as she walked in and his eyes widened. “My lady,” he said, noticeably alarmed, “you do not look well. Shall I summon a doctor?”
“No, please do not make a fuss. It is nothing serious. Have Mrs. Quinn bring me up a pot of tea. I’ll be in my bedchamber. I need to rest.”
“Right away.” He cast her another worried look. “I shall send word to Captain Thorne.”
“No, you mustn’t disturb his important work. Just send him upstairs when he arrives home.”
Her legs once again felt like granite blocks as she made her way up the stairs. This was it. This was the dread that had haunted her from the moment she opened her heart and accepted a true and forever marriage.
Why had she done this?
She ought to have waited the full nine months before committing to Octavian. Instead, she had held out less than two months.
If only she had waited.
She knew all along, did she not? She knew that her marriage could never be anything more than make-believe.
Her dreams of forever could never come true, for she had come to Octavian with nothing but her good name.
And now, she did not even have that.
Dread filled her.
She felt more ill than she had ever felt in her life.
