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Authors: Maureen Lang
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torrent that followed.
She didn’t hear the light footsteps behind her until the edge of Kate’s skirt came into view. Perhaps Meg should resent this woman who’d been allowed to share her father’s life—at least as much as she resented Maguire—but when Kate took the seat next to Meg, drawing her into a gentle embrace, any desire to feel that resentment dwindled away.
“I wanted him to love me.” Her voice, garbled with tears, was barely recognizable even to Meg herself.
“Shh, now. He did, Meggie.” Meg felt Kate stroke her hair as if she were a child. “He loved you, and I can prove it to you.”
Her words penetrated Meg’s tears, slowing the spigot inside.
“You can’t.” Meg wiped her eyes with a handkerchief Kate supplied. This handkerchief was black, although a red one still peeked out from Kate’s pocket. “I don’t care if he knew every last thing I did. Nothing could convince me he loved me. It’s too late, don’t you see?”
With a glance over Meg’s shoulder as if to make sure they were alone, Kate shook her head. “John didn’t think himself worthy to be your father.” Kate looked at the table now, at the box holding Meg’s father. The older woman seemed to fossilize before Meg as a frown set premature creases into place. “I suppose you already believe him unworthy, but that wasn’t his intention.”
Meg spared only a glance her father’s way. “He never gave me the chance to see if he was unworthy or not! His absence proves he wasn’t a good father.”
“He was a better father than you think, considering how he made his living. You cannot discount his protection of you.”
“Protection from what? I know about the gambling, Miss Kane. Jamie mentioned it in the carriage. And while I’m sure a number of families sending their daughters to Madame Marisse’s would have been scandalized to learn such a thing about him, it’s hardly an illegal way to make a living. That was no reason to banish me from his life.”
“You were to be raised a lady, like your mother. Someone he never thought himself worthy of, either, really. You never knew, Meggie, that she was from London, did you? The daughter of a gentleman, and your father wanted you to be just like her. He knew he couldn’t raise you properly, so he found the finest school in all of New England to do it for him. All he needed to do was supply the money, and he did.”
“And so he gambled. Is that all?”
Kate looked from Meg to her father, then to the door that led from the room. The hesitation lasted long enough to make Meg wonder if whatever she had to say was the truth or just being made up for Meg’s benefit.
“His fortunes are . . . complicated, Meggie. They came from various sources.” She caught and held Meg’s gaze. “Not a single one, at least initially, was legal.”
Meg nearly laughed. “What are you saying? That he was a thief?”
Kate nodded.
“That is what you’re saying? He was . . . he was a thief?”
“Shh! Keep your voice down. He never wanted you to know—”
“And I doubt he can hear you now.”
“No, but Ian might, and he didn’t want me to tell you the truth. If it’s the only way to bring you some kind of peace with your father’s memory, then so be it. Your father wasn’t proud of the things he did, but it was the only thing he knew how to do and he did it well. You don’t remember—how could you?—when he partnered with his old friend Brewster. They conned their first mark together. It came too easily to both of them, but especially to your father because people have always been eager to trust him. With Brewster’s help, your father made enough money to present himself as a gentleman and pay Madame Marisse to keep you for years. He never stopped working. He had to earn enough to keep you there.”
The words swirled in Meg’s head until they made no sense at all. Her father with the smiling, guileless blue eyes . . . a thief.
She would have stood, paced,
She didn’t hear the light footsteps behind her until the edge of Kate’s skirt came into view. Perhaps Meg should resent this woman who’d been allowed to share her father’s life—at least as much as she resented Maguire—but when Kate took the seat next to Meg, drawing her into a gentle embrace, any desire to feel that resentment dwindled away.
“I wanted him to love me.” Her voice, garbled with tears, was barely recognizable even to Meg herself.
“Shh, now. He did, Meggie.” Meg felt Kate stroke her hair as if she were a child. “He loved you, and I can prove it to you.”
Her words penetrated Meg’s tears, slowing the spigot inside.
“You can’t.” Meg wiped her eyes with a handkerchief Kate supplied. This handkerchief was black, although a red one still peeked out from Kate’s pocket. “I don’t care if he knew every last thing I did. Nothing could convince me he loved me. It’s too late, don’t you see?”
With a glance over Meg’s shoulder as if to make sure they were alone, Kate shook her head. “John didn’t think himself worthy to be your father.” Kate looked at the table now, at the box holding Meg’s father. The older woman seemed to fossilize before Meg as a frown set premature creases into place. “I suppose you already believe him unworthy, but that wasn’t his intention.”
Meg spared only a glance her father’s way. “He never gave me the chance to see if he was unworthy or not! His absence proves he wasn’t a good father.”
“He was a better father than you think, considering how he made his living. You cannot discount his protection of you.”
“Protection from what? I know about the gambling, Miss Kane. Jamie mentioned it in the carriage. And while I’m sure a number of families sending their daughters to Madame Marisse’s would have been scandalized to learn such a thing about him, it’s hardly an illegal way to make a living. That was no reason to banish me from his life.”
“You were to be raised a lady, like your mother. Someone he never thought himself worthy of, either, really. You never knew, Meggie, that she was from London, did you? The daughter of a gentleman, and your father wanted you to be just like her. He knew he couldn’t raise you properly, so he found the finest school in all of New England to do it for him. All he needed to do was supply the money, and he did.”
“And so he gambled. Is that all?”
Kate looked from Meg to her father, then to the door that led from the room. The hesitation lasted long enough to make Meg wonder if whatever she had to say was the truth or just being made up for Meg’s benefit.
“His fortunes are . . . complicated, Meggie. They came from various sources.” She caught and held Meg’s gaze. “Not a single one, at least initially, was legal.”
Meg nearly laughed. “What are you saying? That he was a thief?”
Kate nodded.
“That is what you’re saying? He was . . . he was a thief?”
“Shh! Keep your voice down. He never wanted you to know—”
“And I doubt he can hear you now.”
“No, but Ian might, and he didn’t want me to tell you the truth. If it’s the only way to bring you some kind of peace with your father’s memory, then so be it. Your father wasn’t proud of the things he did, but it was the only thing he knew how to do and he did it well. You don’t remember—how could you?—when he partnered with his old friend Brewster. They conned their first mark together. It came too easily to both of them, but especially to your father because people have always been eager to trust him. With Brewster’s help, your father made enough money to present himself as a gentleman and pay Madame Marisse to keep you for years. He never stopped working. He had to earn enough to keep you there.”
The words swirled in Meg’s head until they made no sense at all. Her father with the smiling, guileless blue eyes . . . a thief.
She would have stood, paced,
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