Page 477 of Wicked Highland Heroes

He shook his head. “Nay. It is only fitting that you stay. You have as much right to know the truth as does Josephine. Let us sit.”

She held tight to his hand as he guided her to the couch in front of the hearth, and they sat with her mother beside him and Nicholas in the wing backed chair nearest her.

Her father squeezed the hand that still gripped his. “I scarcely know where to start. I am at a loss as to how Wylst—” He broke off and shook his head. “Nay. The beginning and end is that you are, in every way that matters, my daughter, and I love you.”

The door swung open and Annabel burst into the room. She halted, her brow furrowed as she cut her gaze from one to another of the group. “What has happened? They said Lord Wylst—” She took the few steps to the couch “What is it?” She looked at Josephine. “Are you hurt?”

“She is fine,” their mother said. “Perhaps you should go to your room and rest.”

Annabel shook her head. “I will not. I am not a child and, last I recall, I am a part of this family. I deserve to know what has happened.”

“Let her stay, Blair,” their father said. “She is right. She is no’ a child, and she should know the truth along with everyone else.”

It seemed their mother would argue and anger flared in Josephine’s heart. “Even now you would cover up your lie, if you could.”

“Josephine,” her father’s sharp voice cut in.

Jo shook her head. “You don’t know what she has done, Papa.”

He released a weary sigh. “I know everything, Child.”

She gave a cold laugh. “Nay. You do not know this. She has lied to you all these years. She told you I was your daughter, but I am not.”

“What?” Annabel said. “What does she mean, Mother?”

Pain filled her mother’s eyes, but Josephine remained unmoved. “Tell her, Mother.”

Her father squeezed her hand. “Josephine, hush. Annabel, close the door and come sit with us.”

She obeyed and Nicholas stood, giving her his chair. Once she sat, Josephine’s mother said, “Carson is this best?”

“Aye, Blair. She cannot go on thinking you cuckolded me all these years, and worse, that you passed off another man’s child as mine.”

Josephine stared. “What are you saying? ‘Tis not true?” Her heart began to beat fast.

“It is true, you are not my daughter,” her father said. “At least, I am not the man who fathered you.” A tentative smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “I am, I hope, your Papa.”

Her heart constricted. “Of course you are. No one else could be. But,” she glanced at her mother, “I do not understand.”

“We didn’t tell you because we did not want you to feel any less our daughter, nor did we want Society to ostracize you,” he said.

“Papa, you are frightening me.”

He nodded. “I know, but there is no easy way to tell you this. Your mother never lied to me. You see, I knew.”

Josephine drew a sharp breath. “You knew?” She cut a glance to her mother. “And you forgave her, even though I was not your child.”

“No, Josephine,” he said. “There was nothing to forgive.”

“But—”

“The man who fathered you—” anger flickered in his eyes and a chill sped up Jo’s spine as the truth slammed into her even as he said, “forced himself upon your mother.”

* * *

Josephine’s eyes widened and Nicholas realized she had guessed what had become apparent to him moments ago. She shot to her feet and he tensed. He started to reach for her, but caught the warning Montagu gave with a shake of his head. She took one step to her mother, dropped to her knees on the carpet and threw her head into her mother’s lap.

“I have been so wicked to you,” she sobbed.