“Ah, yes, I was about to ask if you had a happy childhood, despite all that drudgery?”

James groaned.

Katey frowned. “What drudgery? If you mean my chores, I never minded them. It was time I got to spend with my mother, and later, with Grace. Besides, cleaning our house, growing and cooking our food, that was just a part of my life. There was no one else to do it. Everyone in Gardener saw to themselves. I know you might find that appalling. You come from a different way of life. But for us, it was simply normal.”

Anthony winced. “I haven’t thoughtlessly insulted you, have I? That certainly wasn’t—”

“Not at all,” Katey assured him. Then a memory came to her that caused her to chuckle. “It’s funny. Your daughter had exactly the opposite reaction to my chores when I mentioned them in our conversations. She complained she never got to help with any!”

“Judy did?”

“Indeed. You might want to give her her own garden before she gets much older. Children happen to like growing things, at least I did.”

“But—she’d get dirty.”

Katey felt he was teasing with that appalled look on his face at the mention of dirt. She grinned at him. “I know, but playing in the dirt can be fun. It smells good and it makes wonderful mud pies!”

James rolled his eyes. Anthony returned her grin and said, “Can’t recall ever wanting to muck around in the dirt m’self, but I can say without a doubt that our eldest brother would probably agree with you.”

“Ah, yes, the gardener. I enjoyed meeting him and walking through his gardens.”

James practically spit out a laugh over the way she’d referred to Jason. She glanced at James and added, “I know, someone already told me I probably shouldn’t call him that. But he is a gardener, you know. It might just be his hobby as he called it, but I’ve never seen so many beautiful flowers and in so many varieties. Judy warned me I’d be impressed, but seeing Jason’s handiwork firsthand truly amazed me.”

Anthony cleared his throat to draw her attention back to him. “I believe we’ve gotten a bit off topic.”

Katey frowned. “Why so much curiosity about my past?”

“I knew your mother—well.”

“Ah, of course.” Katey smiled, beginning to understand. “She lived close to Haverston before she met my father, and you grew up there, didn’t you?”

“Indeed, though truth to tell, I was full grown and merely home for the holidays before I really got acquainted with her. But I suppose I just wanted to know if you and she had led a normal life in America.”

“Normal for Gardener, yes.”

“That bears some significance?”

She smiled. “It was a very small village of old people with no industry other than a few farms on the outer edges. I was the last child born there, and the few other children left were nowhere close to my age and soon gone. No one ever moved there anymore, other than people looking for a quaint, quiet village to retire in.” She chuckled. “We were definitely quiet. Nothing ever happened of interest. No one ever entertained. The highlight of every day was someone reading aloud from the Danbury newspaper in our shop. Old Hodgkins rode over to the larger town twice a week to buy up a few copies just for that. Gardener was, without a doubt, the most boring place you can imagine.”

“Good God, so you had a horrible childhood?”

“I didn’t say that! It was just boring—for a child. My parents didn’t seem to mind. They had things to keep them busy. Myself, I groaned each day my tutor sent me home. Really, I did. I would have much preferred to stay with him and talk about the world!”

“Why didn’t your parents move somewhere more lively or at least to that bigger town nearby?”

She shrugged. “I heard them talking about it once. Shopkeeping was all my father knew how to do. In Gardener, he never lacked for customers with his store being the only one in the village. In Danbury, or some other larger town, he would have had to compete with already established shops, and with a family to feed, I think he was afraid to try that. After he died, I was hoping my mother would move us, but she jumped feetfirst into running the shop herself. She actually enjoyed it.”

“But your mother had money, didn’t she? Isn’t that what you inherited?”

“Yes, and quite a bit of it, but she refused to touch it herself. It came from her father when he died, and she despised her family for disowning her. She wouldn’t even talk about them. I didn’t even know how many Millards were left until I came to England.”

“They disowned her?”

“You didn’t hear about it back then? It was because she eloped with an American who was in trade, or that’s what she implied.”

James interjected, “And an excellent time to get to the point, Tony—before I die of old age.”

Anthony shot his brother a cold look. “You weren’t invited, so why don’t you go to bed.”

“I can’t, dear boy. It’s my bedroom you’re dragging your feet in.” Anthony flushed slightly with that reminder, but James wasn’t finished. “Katey, what my brother—”

James was finished this time. Anthony leapt across the space between them and knocked James backward with enough force that they both tumbled over the other side of the desk to the floor.

Katey shot to her feet. Incredulous, she demanded, “Are you both insane?”

James’s head came up first as he stood back up. “Certainly not.” He gave his brother a hand up.

“Apologies, Katey,” Anthony said as he came back around the desk, running a hand through his hair to straighten it. “Unfortunately, that was nothing out of the ordinary in our family.”

“You mean between us, don’t you, dear boy?” James added with a pointed stare. “You won’t find the elders knocking each other around, so don’t frighten her by implying all Malorys are like you and I.”

“Quite right,” Anthony agreed with an abashed look. “James and I are just more—energetic. Call it brotherly competition if you like.”

Still a bit shaken from their burst of—energy, Katey said, “Having had no siblings of my own, I’m afraid that’s a bit hard to comprehend.”

“Perfectly understandable. Perhaps it would make more sense to know that we’re both avid pugilists. Exercise for us has always consisted of a good round in a sporting ring several times a week.”

“You still do that?”

“She’s not calling us too old to exercise, is she?” James said drily.

Katey blushed despite the grin he offered her to imply he was only teasing.

Anthony sighed in exasperation. “We’ve gone far from the mark again. So let me be blunt for a moment, Katey. You never actually answered my question about a happy childhood, if you had one. Is that significant? There are no painful memories you’d prefer not to discuss?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “If there were, I wouldn’t be discussing them, would I? The fact of the matter is, my childhood wasn’t very memorable, but it wasn’t miserable, either. I was happy enough living with my parents and then, just with my mother after my father died. When I got old enough, I could have left Gardener like all the other young people did as soon as they could, but it never even occurred to me to do so until my mother died. The main thing I didn’t like about my childhood was simply the sheer boredom of it from a child’s perspective. But that is why I decided to travel for a few years to see the world, before I consider marriage and children of my own. I was hoping for the excitement I missed as a child, and some adventure. I’ve been finding a little of both.” She grinned.

“Have you ever wished you had a larger family?”

She almost pointed out that wishing about the past was irrelevant, but held her tongue, mainly because she sensed his nervousness over the question. She found that quite odd, but even James seemed tense now, waiting for her reply. What the devil was wrong with these two tonight?

Hesitantly she said, “I am beginning to suspect that you’re leading up to something I may not find palatable. So perhaps as your brother suggested, it’s time to get to the point, Sir Anthony?”

He sighed and took his seat across from her again. “I said I knew your mother, but not just as an acquaintance. I was courting her before she left England, and my intentions were honorable. I wanted to marry her.”

Katey stared at him hard, trying to assimilate that, but it just didn’t make sense. “I don’t understand. You’re an exceptionally handsome man. And—”

“Thank you.”

“—to be frank, my father wasn’t. He wasn’t ugly or anything like that, but between you two, I can’t imagine my mother picking him over you, and yet you’re saying she did? Did you do something that turned her against you? Are we talking about a tragic romance?”

“No, it was nothing like that. Her family didn’t like me. I’m not even sure why. I wasn’t quite the rakehell yet that I became in later years. But Adeline didn’t share their feelings. I was quite sure she felt the same as I. My mistake was in not letting her know sooner that I wanted her for my wife. I erroneously assumed she took it for granted, that we were of a like mind and would be married. And then she was gone. Overnight. I can’t tell you what a shock that was, to ride over to take her on a picnic to our favorite spot and be told she’d left England. They gave me some tripe about a grand tour that had been planned that she had never mentioned to me, and that she’d be back in a year or so.”

“So you didn’t resume your courtship when she returned to England?”

“She never returned, Katey.”

She was frowning now with extreme confusion. “But she eloped with my father, so…you’re saying she knew and fell in love with him prior to your courting her? That he suddenly showed up again and she ran off with him without even an explanation for you?”

“No, my guess would be she didn’t meet him until after she left England, perhaps on the ship to America, or soon after she landed.”

Katey realized that was the opinion of a man who had come in second place in the running for a woman’s affections. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to think it. She still found it amazing herself, that her mother hadn’t picked Anthony over her father.

She said gently, “I’m sorry to say you’re wrong. She told me—”

“Katey, some parents will make up a good lie to hide a sad truth. For whatever reason, she didn’t want you to know the real reason she left England. I had no idea myself. She could have told me, but she didn’t. All these years, I didn’t know she ran off carrying my child. I still wouldn’t have known if your aunt Letitia hadn’t sent me a nasty note about it after you sailed on The Oceanus.”

Katey’s eyes widened. She put her hand to her mouth, but it was to stifle a surprised laugh. If she laughed when he seemed so sincere, she’d never forgive herself. But at least the fallacy wasn’t his, but instigated by that harsh relative of hers.

“I met Letitia,” she said quickly. “Frankly, I wouldn’t believe a single word she told me. Why, she even called me a…”

The color drained from Katey’s cheeks as she slowly stood up. Her eyes were riveted to Anthony’s face, and she was seeing so much more in his expression now, dread, sympathy, understanding—and caring.

And even though she didn’t need to hear it now, he said, “You’re correct. I didn’t believe her. I went to hear it from your grandmother. She wasn’t well, so I didn’t overtax her to hear more details, but she confirmed it, Katey. You’re my daughter.”

The only sound that would come out of her mouth was a small, painful sound, a mewling. And before she made a fool of herself, she raced out of the cabin.

“Bloody hell,” Anthony groaned.

“Did you expect squeals of delight and an exuberant father-daughter hug?” James asked drily as he moved to close the door Katey had left open in her escape.

“This isn’t a good time for your pearls of wisdom, James.”

“Perhaps not, but much can be said for bluntness. You should have just spit it out and saved yourself all that agonizing beating about the bush.”

“I was trying to break it to her gently.”

“Oh, you did, dear boy,” James said. “With the finesse of a sledgehammer.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

TO HAVE EVERYTHING that she knew about herself and her life crack like a nutshell in her hand, the shards too small to piece back together, the only option to discard it, wasn’t just a little traumatic for Katey. She was devastated. It wasn’t that she was a Malory. Having one for a parent didn’t automatically make her one of them, at least in her mind. She had no more history with that family than she did with the Millards. But at least she had known about the Millards.

And therein was the source of the trauma she couldn’t shake. It was the lie, her mother’s lie, her mother’s deceit, that she’d kept the truth from Katey her whole life. Maybe Adeline had intended to tell her someday who her real father was, perhaps after she was married and starting her own family. Adeline wouldn’t really have denied her grandchildren knowing where they came from, would she? She hadn’t meant to die before she could make that confession. Life wasn’t that predictable. Stupid piece of ice…

Katey cried her heart out for what Adeline had given up with one single life-altering decision. Why did she do it? Katey cried her heart out for what her mother had missed, and subsequently, what Katey had missed as well, life with the Malorys. Why?