I sank even lower in my chair.
Charlotte smoothed her skirt. “I didn’t come here today to talk about myself, though I suppose, under the circumstances, it couldn’t be helped—Leo and I have a lot of catching up to do. But I came here to speak of something else. There’s something I must tell you, Kit.” She took Leo’s hand in hers. “Something we both must tell you.”
“Are you sure?” asked Leo.
“Yes.” Charlotte stroked his hand. “I know that Amy swore us to secrecy, but I can’t live with secrets anymore. You and I have paid too high a price for them. We must tell Kit the truth.”
Leo kissed her on the side of the head. “I’m with you all the way, love, but Kit”—he turned his bright blue eyes on his nephew— “had better buckle his seat belt, because he’s in for a few jolts.”
“I’m tougher than I look, Uncle Leo,” said Kit.
“You’d better be,” said Leo. “Because the truth of it is, your mother made a big mistake when she married Sir Miles. She knew it before they were back from the honeymoon.”
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“He was quite a bit older than she was,” Kit acknowledged.
“Their problems had nothing to do with age,” Leo said fi rmly.
“Sir Miles was a difficult man,” Charlotte interjected. “He went into terrible rages, then sank into deep depressions.” She hesitated, then said carefully, “He struck your mother on several occasions.”
Kit stared at her, aghast.
“It’s true,” said Leo. “I had to pull him off her a couple of times.”
“W-why did she stay?” Kit stammered.
“Your father’s troubles weren’t his fault,” Charlotte explained.
“He was ill. Amy hoped that she could help him.”
“But my father never raised a hand to me,” said Kit. “He showed me nothing but kindness.”
“Then remember him that way,” Charlotte urged. “But the truth of the matter is that his second wife was able to control him with new and more effective medications, most of the time. She kept you away from him during his bad spells.”
“Your mother wasn’t alone during the rough times she had with him, Kit,” said Leo. “I told you last night, Charlotte was Amy’s best mate. Aldercot Hall was a sanctuary for her. She could always find a bit of peace there.”
“And one day,” said Charlotte, “she found my brother. He was home for a few months from his travels, and he got to know Amy very well.”
“They were birds of a feather,” said Leo. “Good, kind, gentle souls, both of them. Always trying to help people.”
“They were very much alike,” Charlotte agreed. “And she was so miserable and he felt so sorry for her that I suppose it was inevitable that they should fall hopelessly in love.”
Leo leaned forward in his chair. “The thing is, Kit—”
“No,” Charlotte interrupted. “Let me tell him.”
“Tell me what?” Kit said tautly.
Charlotte focused her soft gray eyes directly on Kit’s face.
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“My brother’s name was Christopher,” she said. “You’re his son.”
For a moment the only sound I could hear was the slow rasp of Rory’s breathing. No one moved. No one spoke. Even the creatures in the clearing had fallen silent. Then a bird chirped, and Kit shifted his gaze to the open window.
“I’m not Sir Miles Anscombe’s son?” he said slowly.
“No,” said Charlotte. “You are the son of Amy Sutherland and Christopher DuCaral.”
I put a hand to my head as I realized why Ruth and Louise Pym had refused to talk about Christopher’s shameful desires. He’d fathered a child by another man’s wife—a child, moreover, who’d grown into a man they both knew and loved. They’d thought it would hurt Kit to learn the truth about his parentage. They couldn’t have known that the truth would set him free.
Kit stood abruptly and said, “I have to leave.”
“Look here, mate,” Leo began.
“I have to leave,” Kit repeated, more urgently. He snatched his pack from the fl oor and strode out of the parlor.
“I knew it would be a shock for him,” Charlotte said anxiously.
“It just may be the best shock he’ll ever have,” I said, scrambling to my feet. “Thanks for your hospitality, Rory. I’ll visit you again real soon.”
“Who’s going to clean up this mess?” Rory demanded, waving a hand toward the coffee table.
“Not me,” I said, and, grabbing my day pack, I tore after Kit.
I pounded after him all the way to Anscombe Manor and got to the stable-yard wall just in time to see him drop his pack on the graveled drive, vault over the riding ring’s fence, and charge straight through a dressage class Nell was conducting.
He took the reins from her hands and passed them to a student, then lifted her from the saddle and set her lightly on the ground. He removed her helmet, tossed it over his shoulder, and smoothed her golden curls back from her forehead. He ran his fingers along
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