Page 85 of An Orphan for the Broken Duke

“Wait,” Violet cut over him. “Please, wait.”

The conversation with Rhys until that point was more than Violet could have hoped for. It was proof that Rhys had changed, and proof that her feelings for him were not misplaced.

Violet still cared for Rhys, and to say otherwise would be to deny the truth. And if she was correct in her assumption, Rhys still cared for her as he had that night in the garden. He had grown, leaving behind his demons, and he wanted to look to the future… a future with her.

And oh, how I want that. More than anything…

Before she gave them that chance, however, there was one more thing she had to do. Sadly, it was the one thing that might see Rhys change his mind; that one thing that there just might be no coming back from.

As always, Violet would do the right thing… even if it ruined everything.

“Before you say anything, there is something I need to tell you.” She did her best to look at Rhys, needing him to see how hard this was for her.

Rhys’ brow furrowed. “You can tell me anything, Violet. Know that you can.”

“I need you to know…” Her voice caught in her throat. “I did this for Lucy, always. Everything that I have ever done… it was not to hurt you. Please, understand that.”

Rhys looked confused and slightly concerned. “Violet, there is nothing you can tell me that I will not understand.”

Above Rhys, the storm started to approach slowly. Those thick clouds, ever threatening, swallowed the sun and cloaked the garden in shadow and darkness. A cool wind rose from the clouds, whipping across the garden that had Violet shaking.

“I spoke to Mr. Marrow about Eleanor and her child,” Violet began. I did so because I knew how much her death haunted you, and I thought that…” She looked away, unable to hold his eyes. “I thought that if I was able to learn anything about her child that might bring you peace, that it could help. That is all I wanted…”

Rhys said nothing, but she felt his gaze intensify.

“I traced her child to St. Clair’s Orphanage. Not the one that you visited but a different one. A mistake was made, you see, the address…”

“I know,” he said with a hint of darkness that matched the storm. “Mr. Marrow told me.”

‘He did?” She looked up hopefully, as if he might already know the answer.

“But that was all he knew. Why?” The word was sharply spoken. “What… what of it?”

Her expression was pleading and hopeful. “I found evidence of who Eleanor’s child might have been, at St. Clair’s. And I traced that child to Mother Mary’s in East London…” She let that sit between them.

“Mother Mary’s?” He knew the name, of course, because Rhys had been its chief sponsor. And, as he spoke that name, the realization of its meaning dawned behind his eyes.

“Mistakes were made,” she said, “as were assumptions. I do not believe that Eleanor had a boy, but rather, she had a little girl.” Tears began to well in Violet’s eyes, and she sniffed them back as she smiled. “And that girl, I am now certain, is Lucy. Lucy is your niece, Rhys. She is the daughter of your sister… she is who you have been searching for this whole time.”

The expression that fell across Rhys’ face was hard to discern.

Was that joy that she saw? Relief felt because this news could only be taken as such? Was it surprise? Another possibility, because never in his wildest dreams might he have expected it. Or was that anger… betrayal… hurt? All were possible, and each one seemed to pass behind his eyes as he accepted her words and found their meaning.

Violet said nothing. Tears fell down her face, and she held her smile because she needed Rhys to know that this was reason to celebrate. Yes, she had lied, but she had done it for the right reasons.

“Lucy…” He said the name as if he had never heard it. “No, that is… that is impossible.”

“It is the truth.” Violet dared to take a step towards Rhys. “You know it to be. That is why she looks so much like your sister. That is why you felt an immediate pull towards her. And that is why she belongs with you, Rhys. She is your blood, and thanks to you, she is right where she belongs.”

“You…” His expression hardened. “You knew this, and you did not tell me.”

“I wanted to.” She took another step towards him, but he reared back. “And I always meant to do so. But I thought it best that I wait until I knew that⁠—”

“You had no right,” he cut her off. “You had no right to keep this from me!”

“I did not do it to hurt you,” she pleaded. “I did it because⁠—”

“I do not care for your reasoning, Violet,” he snapped. “You…” He started to tremble, and above him thunder rumbled across the sky. “This is not a game, Violet. We are not your playthings. Do you have any idea how long I have… how many hours I spent… and all this time…” He gritted his teeth. “You lied to me.”