December 1811 - January 1812

Mina sipped from her tea, relishing a moment of respite before continuing her storytelling, which had already stretched into the wee hours of the night. Her gaze wandered to the beige carpet, where two faint marks hinted at past incidents. Perhaps a spill of paint from her artistic endeavours? Or perchance remnants of chocolate left by Evie's tiny fingers after a tumble from the settee?

As the evening progressed at St Helens, the crackling of the fireplace echoed the fading melody of its withered life, casting a gentle glow upon the drawing room where two ladies sat, each ensconced in her own chair, draped in cosy shawls.

Revisiting the events of those tumultuous months that ultimately drove Mina to flee from Southampton stirred a torrent of emotions within her. Despite the discomfort, she knew she must reveal the truth, lay bare her heart and acknowledge her disappointments to a person very close to her heart.

"So, what was the secret, Mina?" Evie asked in a hushed tone, the clinking sound of her cup meeting the saucer resonating softly as she placed it on the table.

Mina returned her attention to her younger sister's visage. No longer a lass, but a woman with the promise of new life blossoming within her womb. It was still early in her pregnancy; Mina was among the first to be entrusted with this joyful news. Not even Alistair, her husband, was privy to it, for if he had been, he would have surely forbidden his wife from accompanying Mina to her residence on the Isle of Wight. And Mina would never have asked her sister for such a great favour, had Evie confided in her before they departed from the harbour.

"Are you certain you wish to know, Evie? Considering your delicate condition, I would regret if the truth were to distress you in any manner."

A plethora of emotions played across Evie's visage.

Apprehension. Affection. Disdain. Disbelief. Hope. Hurt.

"My dear sister, upon your arrival at my doorstep, tearful and in distress, cursing the saints and devils alike, I sensed that a matter of great gravity had transpired. Considering that you have torn me away from my husband, and I am now spending my first Christmas as a married woman with you instead of Alistair, it is only fair that you provide me with the full account of what has occurred."

Her voice was gentle yet firm. Mina understood that Evie spoke the truth, and owed her the final revelation, the climactic moment lurking behind the velvet curtains, waiting to take centre stage. Yet, an unexpected player was about to enter the scene, a disfigured man whose presence inspired only fear and trepidation. Even Mina's admission of intimacy with Royston failed to unsettle Evie as much as this the anticipation of the secret did.

Mina sighed heavily. "We were seated in the library, and Lady Langdon approached the windowsill..."

The rustle of skirts stirred Mina from her momentary reverie as Polly fell silent, carefully considering the phrasing of her impending revelation. Roy, his demeanour taut with anticipation, turned his gaze towards Mina, his lips pressed together in anxious expectation. With each passing moment, the tension in the room seemed to mount.

"You may not be aware, dear Mina," Polly began, her voice measured and composed, "but you and Roy are distant cousins—fourth cousins to be precise—linked by the ties of blood through your respective fathers. However, the familial connection between you is so distant as to render you almost strangers in terms of kinship. Hence, the unexpected inheritance that has befallen Roy has taken us by surprise, as we had not anticipated such a turn of events. It appears that Providence has its own mysterious designs and motives, guiding our destinies in ways we cannot fathom."

She then shifted her gaze towards Mina. "We were all residents of Southampton in bygone days; your father, mother, I, and my dear departed husband. Despite his innate goodness, my husband faced financial struggles in his youth, frankly speaking, he was quite poor. Yet, with perseverance and the assistance of his family, he amassed the means to pursue his studies and eventually attained the esteemed title of doctor. Upon his return, he embarked on the quest to find a suitable bride."

Mina's brow furrowed slightly, sensing a shift in Polly's discourse that she found unsettling.

"I was his chosen match, a union born of convenience, indeed. A daughter of a Marquess, destined to languish in spinsterhood if not for this arrangement. Initially, it was my dowry that caught his eye, but in time, we discovered a genuine affinity for one another as individuals. A deep connection blossomed between us. My father, though initially reluctant, came to terms with the match. Having successfully wed off my other siblings, one daughter aligning herself with a gentleman of the working class posed little threat to his reputation, though it did require him to swallow a measure of pride as this union may have raised some if not all eyebrows. Meanwhile, my husband's association and established rapport with the late Viscount Sinclair lent him an air of respectability, securing clientele from both the upper echelons and the nobility. In the end, all parties found themselves content with the outcome, each benefiting from the arrangement."

Thus far, no inkling hinted at impending calamity, yet as Mina briefly glanced at Roy's visage, she observed a deepening pallor with each of Polly's remarks.

"My late husband enjoyed a close friendship not only with your father, Mina, but also with your mother," Polly continued, her tone measured. "I always regarded your mother as a loyal wife and devoted mother. Yet, I must confess, there were moments when I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy witnessing the deep understanding between them. Your father acknowledged it too, but whenever I broached the subject with him, he maintained a rather aloof demeanour. But, as they say, mere affinity and camaraderie between two souls does not necessarily imply anything untoward, does it?"

Mina shifted uneasily in her chair, suddenly finding it uncomfortable. Was this narrative unfolding into a tale of two star-crossed lovers? Polly tutted softly and continued recounting her narrative, a tale that would ultimately sow discord between them on that fateful day.

"We spent four consecutive summers at St. Helens, perhaps not sufficient to forge indelible memories for you or your sister. Yet, with each passing summer, I found myself questioning whether the burgeoning closeness between your mother and my husband was born of my own jealousy or an undeniable reality. You see, my husband's words spoke one truth, but his conscience whispered another. His medical practice flourished, his patients grew more challenging, and our visits to St. Helens ceased for a grave reason - your dear mother fell ill as well."

Polly gazed out the window once more, her thoughts drifting back to days of yore. The world outside was cloaked in snow, white flakes descending upon the already blanketed ground, promising eventual thaw.

"My husband grew increasingly distant with each passing month after receiving news of your mother's well-being," she murmured, her voice tinged with melancholy. "He would often depart our home to tend to his patients, either striving to heal them or offering solace in their final hours, witnessing their final breath. And I... I was afraid to inquire about his feelings, fearful of what truth I might uncover. Terrified that I was no longer the centre of his world."

"Do not... I beg of you, do not insinuate such a scandalous claim that my mother and your husband were lovers, Polly," Mina implored softly, her voice barely audible. "Do not even entertain the thought, I beseech you, I swear on all that is holy..."

Lady Langdon either failed to comprehend Mina's words or chose to ignore them, for she regarded her with a steady gaze and continued her narrative. "Your mother was ailing, Mina. So gravely ill that she sought my husband's medical expertise while concealing it from your father. It appears your father harboured suspicions regarding her relationship with my husband, despite his feigned indifference. She would journey to St. Helens, sometimes accompanied by you and your sister, while my husband followed discreetly to provide care. They would spend days there, engaged in God-knows-what activities, but one thing remains certain – your father decided upon a surprise visit to St. Helens, and it was then that he discovered them."

Mina's eyes glistened with unshed tears long before she divulged the clandestine meetings, delicate drops tracing silent paths down her pale cheeks. Polly, too, felt a swell of emotion, her eyes moistening as her lips quivered with sorrow.

"Your mother informed him of her illness, but to no avail," Mina continued, her voice trembling with emotion. "My husband assured me he treated her affliction according to her wishes, nothing more. Yet, Sinclair forbade your mother from seeking the treatments she so desperately needed. He cursed our family, severed ties, and slandered my husband at every opportunity... ultimately leading to your mother's untimely passing and my husband's tragic demise – he succumbed to his own despair after a very public dispute with your father, leaving us with no choice but to seek refuge in Dover, where my elder siblings still reside to this day."

Polly's voice trembled as she spoke, tears tracing a path down her cheeks. "Indeed, Mina, it pains me to reveal this truth, but your father bears responsibility for your mother's passing. He dismissed her ailment as a mere trifle, causing her suffering to go unattended. Moreover, his arrogance led to my husband's ruin, for he dared to provide care where it was needed most. Despite the late viscount's shortcomings, I never doubted his love for you and your sister. Yet, when I reflect on the anguish he wrought due to his misguided pride, I can only pray that he faces his reckoning in the depths of Hades. My husband was a paragon of kindness, and his only sin was his compassion."

Mina could scarcely believe her ears; she could hardly even recognize Polly through the tears that clouded her vision. It felt as though the foundation of the castle built upon the knowledge she had gathered about her life and her family was crumbling before her; only the ringing in her ears persisted. Her father portrayed as ruthless, unkind, if not outright cruel? And who, pray, was this woman to level such accusations against him?! Wasn't Mina his daughter, his own flesh and blood, someone who had dwelled under his roof for years, who knew him intimately, who had witnessed both his virtues and his flaws?

"Nay," Mina exclaimed as she stood up and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I cannot fathom this, Lady Langdon. It is beyond belief! If you wished me gone from this household, a simple request would have sufficed, and I would have departed without delay!"

A gentle touch landed on her arm. "Mina—"

"Do not touch me!" she interjected, withdrawing from Roy's grasp without meeting his concerned gaze. Her attention remained fixed on Polly. "I cannot... I refuse to accept your words. What purpose do they serve?! My father lies deceased, unable to defend his honour anymore!"

"Nothing, absolutely nothing, Mina. That was the main reason I kept it from you for so long. It was never my intention to cause you harm in any way," defended Polly, her voice trembling with emotion. "I assure you, my friendship offered to you was genuine and sincere, always!"

Mina raised her index fingers and scoffed in disbelief. "No one, no one in this realm will tarnish my memories of a man who cared deeply for me and my sister! Whatever schemes you may have employed, whatever goals you may have had, one thing remains unchanged – my father was a man of honour! As for me... I know not why I remain here in this abode, which is no longer even mine. Surely, it was a mistake! I could have avoided encountering you all!"

With determined steps, she retreated into the sanctuary of her chamber, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. The maddening haste with which she gathered her belongings was a blur, the urgency of her actions driven by a tumultuous storm raging within her. Mina's chest tightened with an overwhelming pressure, her every breath a struggle against the suffocating weight of her turmoil. Tears streamed down her cheeks unchecked, her trembling form betraying the depth of her distress.

Suddenly, a presence loomed at the threshold, causing her frantic movements to falter. In the periphery of her vision, she discerned the silhouette of dark boots, breeches, and the hem of a coat, a silent witness to her tumultuous state.

"You mentioned the secret was not of our making, yet it seems intimately entwined with our lives. It has made me realize that I scarcely know those with whom I share a roof. Please, say no more, I implore you. Not at this moment."

The figure departed from its place, albeit not without a brief hesitation, leaving Mina to her own thoughts. The subsequent events unfolded as if in a fog – Mina's journey to Finnegans, her urgent desire to depart Southampton, her pleading with Evie to accompany her...

Her sister rose abruptly from the settee, paced a few steps, and then stopped, clasping her hands to her face as tears began to flow. "This cannot be true," Evie lamented.

Mina approached her sister, enveloping her in a tender embrace. Though her eyes were dry, her heart felt heavy with the weight of unshed tears, though she had already wept an ocean's worth. Sharing her burden with Evie eased her soul, yet she couldn't shake the guilt of causing her sister such anguish.

"My dear Evie, do not distress yourself so," she began in a gentle tone, her hand soothingly tracing circles on her sister's back. "Remember, you are with child now."

"Oh, Mina, it is still early days," Evie replied, her voice tinged with sadness. "Anything could transpire in the coming months, which is why you are the only one privy to this secret."

They lingered in a sisterly embrace for a prolonged moment, each lost in her own reverie. Eventually, the younger of the two gently disentangled herself from her sister's arms, reaching for a linen napkin to dab at her tear-streaked face and her nose. Once composed, she regarded her elder sister with a renewed sense of resolve.

"The pressing question, my dear, is this – what course of action shall you take regarding Royston? In the grand scheme of things, he has not wronged you."

Mina released a heavy sigh, the weight of the question pressing upon her. Though she knew not to harbour ill will toward him, the complex tangle of emotions from their recent encounter lingered in her heart.

"I require time, Evie. Time to contemplate my path forward and to consider my own future."

It was shortly after Christmas that Roy's friends departed from his estate, allowing him and Polly a moment of respite. While the visit had not been a nuisance, its timing had been most unfortunate. Roy's friends had also noted Mina's abrupt absence, which Roy swiftly attributed to her tending to her sister's needs during Mrs. Finnegan's illness. Though his friends seemed somewhat sceptical, having not been privy to the altercation that had taken place in the library, they played along.

"You ought to have journeyed to Dublin," Roy remarked to his mother as he observed her sealing a letter.

They were both seated in the drawing room, Roy holding a glass of wine, finding solace in the tranquillity that enveloped him in the absence of company. Yet, his thoughts lingered on another company, miles away from him at that moment...

"To what end, I wonder? How could I feign merriment in the presence of a man who perceives me as one would a well-read tome? It was a challenge enough to maintain appearances in front of your acquaintances," his mother lamented, her words tinged with the ache of thwarted plans and the reopening of old wounds. "I have resigned myself to the notion that I shall encounter him again only when he graces Southampton with his annual visit." If he would still have me after my initial indifference over Christmas, she silently added, hoping that the letter would provide Ciarán with some measure of closure.

Roy regarded her with a quizzical gaze. "You do not intend to return to Dover after everything...?"

"Do you wish to return?" she countered, deflecting his question back to him.

When no immediate response was forthcoming, Polly fixed her son with a meaningful gaze. "You could always correspond with her through a letter, Roy."

"And to what end, mother?" he replied in a manner reminiscent of her own, "To receive a response dripping with sarcastic venom, declaring my unworthiness of her company's air and her preference for the depths of Hades' realm over our presence?" he inquired, his tone tinged with bitterness, before taking a deep sip of his wine. "We both acknowledge she won't return, and I've already laid bare my soul and heart to her. I am disinclined to pen letters, to plead for her affections, or to press her further. I have waited upon the grand stage, hoping she would join me in this comedy of life, yet she chooses to remain behind the curtain, refusing to take her cue. Or it is a tragedy, indeed, given recent events."

Polly regarded her son with a mixture of concern and maternal affection, noting the tension in his demeanour as he lowered his gaze and gently pressed his temple, a telltale sign of the frustration simmering within him. She longed to offer him comfort or guidance, but there were circumstances beyond a mother's control.

"How much longer are you prepared to wait for Mina?" Polly inquired gently, despite knowing the answer might be fraught with uncertainty.

His response flowed effortlessly from his lips, without a moment's hesitation. "She should take all the time she deems necessary. Every moment, if it be required. It appears I am destined to linger here a while longer."

His words ignited a spark of hope within Polly, suggesting the possibility of a swifter reunion between the two.

However, this sentiment was expressed long before Miss Eleanor Whitcombe arrived at their doorstep with a bold and audacious request.