A tense conversation with Geneva’s father uncovers the root of her bitterness.
Coughing again, Adam dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief. “There’s more, Geneva. Something that I deeply regret. A fortnight after Elizabeth’s departure, I received a letter from her. I assumed she was begging to return. Reconciliation was out of the question, so I threw the letter unopened into the fire. I received two more letters at later dates. I threw those in the fire as well. Now I can’t help but wonder if those letters were informing me of her pregnancy. I’m sorry, Geneva. If I had known, I would have done the right thing by bringing her back.”
Geneva swallowed hard, unable to move an inch as she digested her father’s horrifying confession. In her mind’s eye, she could see the letters bursting into flames and shriveling up into ashes, sealing the fate of mother and unborn child. She wanted to turn back the hands of time. She wanted to scream and lash out. She wanted to weep, but her anger wouldn’t allow it.
“How could you do that?” she burst out. “You were responsible for her. You have no idea what she went through. How she suffered. Did you just erase her from your mind as if she never existed?”
“Of course not,” Adam countered. “I loved your mother. I didn’t want to expose her to the publicity and humiliation of divorce, and certainly I had no plans for remarriage myself. So I devised a plan. I asked Mr. Bradshaw to send a letter to Alex Brigham with false news that Elizabeth’s husband had died and had left her a jointure in his will. If he would provide her with protection and a comfortable home, then he would receive the jointure as compensation. Alex replied without delay. He was happy to open his home to his sister.”
“Happy?” Geneva’s anger boiled into furious speech. “Uncle Alex wasn’t happy to take my mother in. He was just happy to get the money. I doubt Mother knew about this agreement, and I’m glad for her sake. It’s easy to guess what he did with the money. That year she moved in is when he bought property in a better part of town where his business would flourish. He earned a good income from his pawnshop, but he was too miserly to spend it. He dismissed his paid housekeeper and forced her to work like a South Indies slave!
“After she died, I had to take over. If I made a mistake, he beat me with his belt. Sometimes he made me sit for hours with the coal scuttle turned over my head. My worst ordeal was when he locked me in the storage closet. Maybe he really didn’t know there was a rat behind the boxes. Either way, he went off to the pawnshop, where he couldn’t hear my cries of terror.”
Surging to her feet, Geneva pushed her hair back from her forehead. “See this scar? It’s a testimony to his drunken violence. He struck me. When I fell over, my head hit the corner of the cast-iron stove.”
Adam swayed in his chair, a hand rising to his brow as if he were dizzy. “Believe me, Geneva, if I had known of your suffering, I would have come to your rescue. I’m so sorry! Please forgive me.”
A scarlet flush crept over Geneva’s cheeks. “After what I’ve been through, why should I forgive you? I could have grown up in this manor house with sisters and brothers, stability, and privilege. You stole my first eighteen years and ruined the life of my innocent mother. Don’t ask me to forgive you. It will never happen!”
Spinning around on her heel, Geneva marched out the room and down the hall to the privacy of her bedroom.
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