Molly adjusted her seat, her hope that Hugh would be vindicated in his claims to innocence slipping away like the seconds of time. "I did not know, and the marriage was consummated before I found out the truth. I cannot change what is done, but my future happiness relies on what you tell me today. Are you certain that it was the Duke of St. Albans’ younger brother that seduced Laura?"
"Why our darling Laura never told us exactly who it was that ruined her, we did find in her bedroom dressing table a small likeness." Her aunt searched through her reticule and pulled out a miniature frame and picture. "Here, this is the likeness with the initials H St. Albans on the back."
Molly took the small painting and immediately viewed a man who very much looked like Hugh, although there were some differences, this gentleman seemed to have more of an aquiline slant to his nose than to Hugh's straight one. His eyes also were smaller, less almond-shaped to Hugh's, beadier. "While they are similar, the H could also stand for Henry, my husband's elder brother."
Her aunt's mouth pinched into a disapproving line. "While we may like to think a duke took an interest in our Laura and courted her, I have little doubt that it was the younger brother who suited her better. A second son could marry an heiress such as Laura, not the heir. And I saw Lord Hugh Farley with Laura at balls and parties, sometimes with their heads together as if they were plotting and planning their futures."
Molly sat back in her chair, taken aback by the idea that Hugh had been close with her cousin, had been, in fact, her lover in truth. Within her own mind, she had decided to find the truth before believing anything else. The idea made her want to cast up her accounts for the second time this morning.
"Could he have been acting on behalf of the duke? Or trying to persuade Laura to look to someone else than his brother? Warn her off, perhaps?" If the duke was anything like Hugh had explained him to Molly, his brother was the worst of people. The other alternative that Hugh had been lying to her, had in fact been Laura's lover was unthinkable.
"May I keep this likeness? I wish to show it to Hugh and ask him if he or his brother is in the image."
"Laura's lover was not the duke," her uncle said, pointing to the small painting in her hands. "Never once did we see the duke with Laura at any balls or assemblies. When Laura confronted the Duchess of St. Albans about her son's actions and the consequences Laura then faced, she promised retribution against her son."
Her aunt dabbed at her cheeks, her eyes welling with tears. "Laura did not confide in us at first, took all this trouble on herself without help. By the time the scandal broke in London, Lord Hugh was banished from England and Laura heavy with his baby. She took his leaving hard, and by the time she had her son, she no longer had the will to live."
"Your husband killed our daughter." Her uncle glowered, his voice wobbly with emotion.
Molly stared at her aunt and uncle, the pain echoing off them still after all these years. That they lost not only Laura but also the babe made her departure from this realm even more devastating.
"Laura was an heiress, why did the Duchess of St. Albans not make Hugh marry her? Why force Laura to hide in the country, and send her son away abroad to live out his days? It makes no sense."
"The duchess was a proud woman, a daughter of a duke herself. She did not believe in the different classes marrying. Not even her younger son would she allow to marry a woman whose inheritance came from trade. Her sons would marry women equal to their birth or no one at all."
For a moment, Molly thought about what the duchess would think of her marriage to Hugh. A vicar’s daughter without an ounce of money to her name. A weight settled on her chest, and she took a calming breath. She had loved her cousin. Outside her family, she had been like an older sister, wise and beautiful and always kind. To think that her Hugh had left her to die with a broken heart, in turn, crumbled Molly's heart in her chest.
"Did Laura leave a diary at all? Anything that can, without doubt, prove who the father of her child was?" As small as it was, Molly hung on to any tidbit of chance that Hugh was innocent as he claimed. He had to be. She loved him, was having his child. If she did not find out the truth, forever there would be this divide, a shadow that hung over their union. She could not live like that. She would rather never see him again if that were the case.
"We have not been able to find it. We've searched her room, everywhere where we thought she would leave such an item, and we knew she had for we gave her a diary the year she came out in London. We wanted her to be able to look back, read about her first Season. What a terrible memory that year ended up being for her."
Her aunt fumbled in her reticule and pulled out a handkerchief, dabbing at her eyes and nose. "She had been so happy, Molly. So full of promise and dreams. The day she died was a relief in the end, for her eyes had long stared at us as if in death. Her heart was broken and would never heal."
"And by your husband." Her uncle stood, helping his wife to stand. "You are welcome to search our London house for a diary if you think it'll help you ease your guilt."
Molly stood, ignoring the barb that embedded deep into her heart. She had hurt her family, and if what they had just stated was true, her husband had been Laura's lover. Despair washed over her, and she fought not to let the emotion make her panic. She walked her aunt and uncle to the front door.
"We are headed home today, we do not wish to stay in London a moment longer than necessary. Laura birthed her child in our London home. If the diary is to be found anywhere, it will be in that home. You are welcome to go there and search. We have a housekeeper, and two maids who live there, and you may ask them for entrance."
Molly nodded, handing her aunt her pelisse. "I am so very sorry to hurt you in this way. I fell in love, I did not know the truth of whom I fell in love with."
Her aunt reached out, clasping her cheek with her gloved hand. Molly reached up, holding her aunt's hand to her face. "We love you, our dearest Molly, and therefore we hope that you find a different answer to the one we've given you today, but when the truth does come out, and you feel you have nowhere to turn, please know you always have us. We shall never turn you away, no matter what you have done."
"Thank you," she said, a lump wedged in her throat. She stood at the door as they walked down the few steps to enter their carriage. Molly watched them go, thinking over what she would do. If Laura's diary held Hugh's name, her marriage would be over. Her future forever changed to the one she thought she would have when she'd said her vows. She closed the door, turning for the stairs, weary and in need of rest. Tomorrow she would face the answer she sought. Today had already been trying enough.
Hugh watched from the library door as Molly farewelled her aunt and uncle before returning upstairs to her room. He hated to see her so conflicted, sad, and lonely with the choice that she had to make. Desperate that he was, he’d spent the past hour listening in on her discussion with her family. The truth of his conduct was out there, he just needed to find it.
One glimmer of hope that had shone through was the mention of a diary. He could only hope that when Molly found the journal and God save him, he hoped she did, that he would be vindicated and proved innocent in this whole mess.