He took the missive, retrieved his spectacles, balanced them on the end of his arched nose, and read it. “I don’t know if it is the exact letter. But the date is accurate. June 1809. He died in October of that year.”
She accepted the letter back, frustrated with how slowly the conversation was proceeding. “I only came into possession of this letter two weeks ago.”
“Two weeks?” He winced. “How’s that possible?”
“Mrs. Denton gave it to me on her deathbed. She said she was sorry she had kept a secret from me, but she had made a promise.”
“Yes. I’d heard she had died, but it makes no sense that she should have kept this from you.” Mr. Longham frowned. “Her promise has long since been fulfilled.”
“What promise?” Cassandra cried out. “Mr. Longham, clearly you know a great deal about my life, but it is all a complete mystery to me. I’m confused about who I am, who my parents are, how I came to even be at the school, and it seems you are the only person to have any answers to my questions. So please, I beg of you, do me a kindness and start at the beginning. Tell me everything you can.”
He nodded and crossed one leg over the other, as if settling in. “Twenty-five years ago, it was brought to Mr. Clark’s attention that one of the maids in his home was with child. His child. Mr. Clark was, of course, married to Mrs. Clark at the time, and it was his chief concern that his wife never find out about the child. About you.”
Illegitimate.
She found her voice. “Go on.”
“In an effort to conceal his actions, Mr. Clark secretly, but legally, assumed full custody of you and placed you with a family in the country until you were old enough to be placed in a school—Mrs. Denton’s school.”
“And my mother did not oppose this?”
“She was young and in no position to raise a child on her own. Mr. Clark could provide for you much better than she ever could. He gave her funds for a new life, and in return she agreed never to have any contact with you.”
Cassandra swallowed dryly. It felt as if her hands had grown numb. Her arms. “What is my mother’s name?”
“Mary Hale.”
“And is she still living?”
Mr. Longham nodded his white head. “After the agreements were signed, I never had contact with her again. But news does travel, and I did hear somewhere along the way that she eventually married and is living somewhere near here. Her married name is Smith, if memory serves.”
“So if I understand you correctly, all these years that I have been at the Denton School for Young Ladies, Mrs. Denton knew of this arrangement?”
“Of course. No expense was spared for your education and care.”
Unable to be still any longer, Cassandra jumped to her feet. “So why tell me all this now? Why even look for me?”
Mr. Longham released a deep sigh. He removed his spectacles and casually returned them to his pocket. “After Mr. Clark’s wife died, he tried to contact you. He was gravely ill at the time, close to death himself. When he received no response, he sent me to the school to speak with you, but when I arrived, Mrs. Denton said you had taken a position elsewhere and she had no idea where you were.”
“What? But that’s a lie! I lived under her roof since I was a child!”
“Well, be that as it may, I was told that the two of you had quarreled, and you departed without providing a forwarding address.”
The false words swam in her mind, refusing to come into focus. Determined to make sense of what she was hearing and take full advantage to learn every detail she could, she sat back down. “But that does not answer my question. Why were you looking for me? Why did you track me down here?”
He blinked, as if shocked at her naivete. “You father’s will, of course.”
“His will?” She flinched. “What will?”
His expression softened. “Take heart, Miss Hale. I fear I’ve given you a great deal to think on, but I also come bearing news that should be beneficial to you.”
Mr. Longham reached for the portfolio by his feet. “Your father was a very wealthy man, and he was haunted by guilt, especially considering how luxuriously his son, your half brother, lived.”
She eyed the portfolio. “Yes, I was told he had a son.”
“He never forgot you, and after his wife’s death, he altered his will to include you. When you did not respond to his inquiry, he was not sure if you would be found, so he gave a very specific time frame for you to obtain your inheritance. The will clearly states that if you were not located and did not claim your inheritance within three years, it would pass to another party—the Stricklin estate. That time expires in about a year from now, and that is why I’ve been so keen to locate you. But now we have time. We should be able to set everything to right.”
“But it cannot be.” She shook her head in disbelief. “He never knew me.”
“I am not disputing the fact that he was a poor father to you. But he was still your father. He was there the day you were born. I was as well. He received regular updates on you as you grew into adulthood, and I know it was the greatest regret of his life not knowing you.”
She sat frozen, transfixed, stunned at the news she’d just been given.
How different her life could have been if only she’d known.
She wiped her hand impatiently across her eyelash. She would not cry. Not here.
She straightened her posture. “What’s to be done now?”
Mr. Longham stood. “It was Mr. Clark’s intention that you should inherit the plot of land to the east of here—the land where Clark Mill now stands. The locals call the land Linderdale. You’ll not inherit the mill or the business, mind you, just the land. They are two separate entities, and it was set up this way so if the business ever encountered trouble, the land would be protected as an asset. It is all quite complicated, but it comes down to this. You own the land. Peter Clark, your half brother, owns the business. The business will pay you a lease for as long as it is there. Furthermore, the will is written in such a way that you cannot sell the land, nor can your children, should you have any, for a period of up to fifty years. The income from the land should give you funds or provide a nice dowry. But I caution you, there are still hurdles to cross.”
“Hurdles? Such as?”
“Peter knows the name Cassandra Hale. It is clearly stated in the will, but he does not know you are Robert Clark’s daughter. He will certainly contest your claim to the will, which could drag this out for years. But I have all your paperwork in line, including this.” He produced a piece of paper from his satchel. “This is a copy of the signed agreement between your mother and your father stating that your father is to have full custody and that your mother is not to contact you.”
She skimmed over the words until her eyes landed on her mother’s signature. Tears blurred her vision. Her mother had written this.
Her mother.
“This document, along with my official statement as Robert Clark’s man of business, should be enough in court to prove your identity. I also have a few other documents, letters, and payment receipts to the school that further support this claim.”
“This is all amazing.” Cassandra managed a little laugh through her tears, and then, as the reality of what she was hearing started to sink in, her excitement began to grow.