He arched a brow in her direction. “When I know you have mixed feelings about her at best?”
Ophelia let out her breath slowly. “I have hesitated when it comes to her. I don’t think I’ve made that a secret to either of you. And I had my reasons. But I’ve also watched you two together. Watched her by herself. I’ve tried to be open and to be honest, she is very difficult to dislike.”
He felt a surge of relief despite his upset. “I’m happy to hear it.”
“So won’t you talk to me about your troubles?” Ophelia pressed.
He ran a hand through his hair. “Abigail never wanted this,” he said. “And my feelings won’t change that fact.”
Ophelia folded her arms. “That’s ridiculous. No, this marriage didn’t come about under the best of circumstances. If you’d had more time before to resolve these issues, it couldn’t have hurt. But I see how she watches you, Nathan! I see the connection between you because it is impossible not to see it.”
He swallowed hard. Could that be true? “Then what do you think I should do?”
“What you need is a good talking to.”
He stared at her a moment. “You are enjoying playing parent to me, aren’t you?”
She smiled and it was almost giddy. “Turnabout is fair play after all these years, yes.”
“A talking to,” he repeated. “And you think you are the one to give it?”
She glared at him. “Don’t underestimate me, Nathan.”
“I would never,” he said softly.
“Let me fetch her,” Ophelia said. “I’ll talk to her briefly, and then we’ll come out here where it’s warm and sunny and we will work this out.”
He sighed. He so very much wanted to work it out. And perhaps Ophelia was correct that with a mediator they could speak more honestly. It was worth a try, at any rate.
“Fine, but please don’t push.”
“I am a member of the House of Gilmore. We are made to push.” When he glared at her, she laughed. “But I will be delicate. Try to calm yourself. I will be back with her shortly.”
She disappeared into the house and left Nathan to wander around the garden. He did so, examining flowers like he cared when all he really cared about was Abigail. What would Ophelia say to her? More to the point, what would he say to her? Did one just come out and say that one loved one’s wife? In the garden, of all places? In front of others? Was that done? Would it work or would it push Abigail even further into her shell?
Ophelia appeared from the house again after a few moments, and his heart sank. She was alone. Abigail had refused to join them. He felt sick at that realization.
“She wasn’t in her study,” Ophelia said, her face lined with worry. “But this was.”
She held out a folded sheet of paper with Nathan’s name written across it. He drew a long breath before he took it and began to read:
I’m sorry we quarreled. I am not trying to hurt you. I’m going to visit Celeste in the hopes I can clear my head. Abigail.
He stared at the words, but also the hand they were written in. Abigail had not written to him during the course of their relationship. Or when she did, it was never more than a word or two in response to a question. Now he examined the swirls of her handwriting and it felt…familiar.
“What does it say?”
He handed the note over because he couldn’t bear to read it aloud. But as he paced away, something niggled in the back of his head. Like a word he couldn’t remember but was just on the tip of his tongue.
“Nathan…” Ophelia’s voice sounded tense—it trembled—and he turned back to find her holding out the note, her hand shaking. “I…this hand looks like…it looks like the note you received that told you about Erasmus Montgomery’s duplicity.” She sucked in a harsh breath. “The one that brought you to my rescue and revealed the truth of his bigamy.”
He snatched the note and read it again, not for the content, but just to see the swirl and curve of each letter. “How do you know that?” he asked.
Ophelia shivered. “I looked at that letter so many times a year ago, I could tell you everything about it, from the ink blot in the corner of the page to the way the hand shook a little at the end. I am almost certain it is true.”
Nathan swallowed hard as the ramifications of that became clear. He held out a hand to his sister. “Come. We’ll become fully certain together.”
She wrinkled her brow in concern, but let him lead her into the house and down the halls until they came to his study. He released her as he crossed to his desk and opened his top drawer. He dug around for a moment and then found the letter, the original letter. He set it on the table with Abigail’s note beside it.
Ophelia stared. “You kept it?” she whispered.
He nodded. “I did.” He leaned over it and she came around the desk to do the same.
“Look, the way she writes her E. It leans just a little to the left, just like the original note,” Ophelia said softly.
“The same with the capital I.”
He looked from one note to the other. She had signed her note today as Abigail. The other note was signed An anonymous friend. And looking at the capital A was what brought everything into sharp relief and kept him from doubting the truth any further. She had a unique way of writing the letter, a confidence from writing it over and over her entire life.
“She wrote it,” he whispered. “She wrote the letter that brought all of us together.” He stared at it again and then ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck.”
When Nathan burst into the parlor, Rhys and Pippa were sitting by the fireplace, each reading a book. Kenley was at their feet, building a tower from blocks.
“I am sorry, my lord,” their butler said with a frustrated glare for Nathan. “I tried to stop him, but—”
“Did you know?” Nathan snapped over him.
Rhys lifted a hand as he slowly rose from the chair. “It’s all right, Coleman.” He swept Kenley up from the floor and crossed to the servant. “Do you think you could take this young man to see his governess?”
The butler nodded and took the child as if he were accustomed to doing so, then left the room, shutting the door behind himself quietly.
“Did you know?” Nathan repeated, his heart pounding so loudly in his ears he could scarcely hear anything else.
Pippa got up, her pretty face lined with deep concern. “Know what, Gilmore? What is going on?”
“Abigail wrote the letter that told me Montgomery was a bigamist,” he choked out. “Did you know?”
Rhys recoiled in surprise at the news, and Nathan felt it was an honest reaction. Pippa, on the other hand, went pale, but did not seem surprised.
“Pippa,” he said, his tone a warning.
Rhys pivoted to her. “Pippa?”
She folded her arms. “Yes. I knew.”
“Good Lord,” Rhys said, still shocked although he didn’t seem angry. “And you never mentioned it?”
She sighed. “I sometimes wanted to talk to you about it, I promise you. But it was not my secret to tell. Abigail made it clear she never wanted anyone to know.”