Deceiving the Duke of Kerrington

Chapter Twenty-six

Though Hope was extremely tired, the minute she was tucked into the luscious, butter yellow silk sheets and her head had hit the pillow, her mind wouldn't seem to shut down. She was so disturbed by the accusations the earl had thrown against her mother. She knew there had to be some mistake because as far as she knew, her mother had never even been outside of Shepard's Bush. She had always been a homebody and somewhat of a recluse, refusing to leave the house unless it was absolutely necessary. She was friendly enough to their neighbors, and she had always been an adoring mother, but that is where her association with others ended.

Hope turned restlessly onto her other side, cramming the down pillow further under her head, in an attempt to get comfortable. She eventually turned onto her back and stared up at the yellow canopy overhead, and that's when she remembered the letter her mother had written her. She sat up with a start. The night her mother had given it to her along with the ruby necklace, she had made her promise not to open it until the time was right, insisting that she would know when that was. Hope had tucked it away with the remainder of her few belongings when she had taken on Noelle's identity, and she regretfully admitted, that she hadn't given it a second thought since.

She scurried out of bed and walked over to the fireplace where she grabbed a tapered candle and bent near the flames to light it. When the candle was lit, she rose and moved quietly towards her satchel of belongings that represented everything she owned, besides the drab grey dress she had been wearing earlier. When she had gone back to the inn to get Soren, she had quickly informed Maggie that she had to leave before grabbing her few belongings to take with her. It did not take her long to rummage through the few possessions she owned to find the letter. She pulled the slightly wilted envelope out of the bag and held it close to the light coming off the candle, as she turned it over and gently broke the red wax seal on the back.

She carefully, almost reverently, unfolded the letter, then lowered her body into a chair and began reading:

My dearest Hope,

Iknow as I write this that my time on this earth is short. I do not think I would have the courage to tell you the truth otherwise. First, I would like you to know that you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and despite my many sins, I loved you dearly. I am at a loss for words, as I try to tell you something I have never shared with another living soul and rarely thought of over the last twenty and one years of your precious life. I tried to forget about it completely, as to not let it consume my happiness and fill my life with guilt, but despite my best attempts, I find that as I face the end of my life that no amount of ignoring the circumstance of your birth can cause me to forget that you were never truly mine, that you never really belonged to me.

Hope had to stop reading, as she blinked in shock. She felt as if she was living a nightmare, as she read her mother's dreadful words. After a few minutes, she began reading once more.

Growing up you would often inquire about your father, and I would always try to deflect you, but you never gave up. I eventually told you that he died before you were born and that it was too painful for me to talk about, but that was not true.

Before you were born I was working as a midwife and would often help assist in the deliveries of nobleman's children. One such night I was summoned to the house of Lady Brattondale, Fiona Parrish, she was to deliver her second child and her labor had been long and intense. After many hours of pushing (the baby had been breech) shedelivered a healthy baby girl. It became clear to us all then that she had lost too much blood and suffered too much because of the painful and complicated delivery. She was weak, and as her maid wasseeing to the child and helping Lady Brattondale view her newdaughter, I continued to attend to her.