Chapter Four

Ruth was waiting up for them in the parlor. Flickering candlelight illuminated the sisters’ bleak faces, alerting their grandmother at once that something was amiss. Alarmed, she rose from her rocking chair as they filed stiffly past her.

“What happened?” she demanded.

“Someone stole the ring,” Evie said flatly. It was the first time she’d spoken since they’d left Boston, and her quiet fury rolled across the room like a wave. Slipping out of her shoes, she gave them an angry kick across the room. “It’s on a ship heading to London. We’ll never get it back.”

“I’m going to make us all some tea,” Claire murmured, flitting away to the kitchen.

“Joanna?” Ruth asked, turning to her eldest granddaughter with knitted brows.

Exhaustion seeped into Joanna’s bones like lead. Sinking down onto the sofa, she dragged a blanket over her lap and in dull, halting tones, told their grandmother everything that had happened, beginning with taking the ring to Mr. Bernard and ending with watching it sail away on the Queen Mary. When she’d finished, she could only shake her head in bewilderment. “I just don’t understand. Of all the people in Boston, why would a thief choose me? How did he know I even had the ring? And why take it to England, of all places? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“I am going to bed,” Evie announced. “This was a horrific day, and I should like very much for it to end.”

“I’ll join you,” Claire said as she returned with the tea. Setting it on a table, she kissed Ruth on the cheek, glanced sadly at Joanna, and then followed Evie up the staircase.

Joanna dropped her head into her hands.

“They blame me,” she said, her voice muffled. “And they’re right. It’s my fault the ring was stolen. I should have protected it better. I should have had us go straight home. Then none of this would have happened.” Biting hard on the inside of her cheek to quell the tears that threatened to spill off her lashes, she lifted her chin and gazed helplessly at her grandmother. “What are we supposed to do?”

“First of all, you are going to stop blaming yourself. Because what happened is not your fault. It’s mine.” Ruth helped herself to a cup of tea before she sat back down in her rocking chair.

“What do you mean?” Joanna blinked in confusion. “Grandmother, you weren’t even there.”

A faint smile softened the stern brackets on either side of Ruth’s mouth as she turned her gaze to the painting of Joanna’s parents on the mantel. “Jacob was always handsome, even as a young boy. And he so did love your mother.” Her smile slowly faded as her gaze darkened. “There are things you are not aware of, Joanna. Family secrets I’ve kept from you and your sisters at the request of your father. Secrets that are tied to that damned ring.” She took a long sip of tea. “I selfishly thought that if the ring was sold then its troubled past would go with it. Clearly, I was mistaken.”

Uneasiness prickled along the nape of Joanna’s neck like tiny, little needles. In all her life, she’d never known her grandmother to hide anything. Ruth was honest to a fault, and blunt along with it. But clearly there was something she’d been hiding. Something that had begun unraveling the moment her grandmother suggested they sell the ring.

“What secrets?” she asked.

Ruth stared at the portrait for a long time. When she finally looked away, there was a glint of sadness in her eyes Joanna had never seen. “Painful ones. I am going to tell you the truth, my dearest, and leave it to you to decide if you wish to tell your sisters.”

Now, Joanna was more bewildered than ever. Yes, she and Evie could go at each other like cats and dogs, but when the dust settled, there was no one she trusted more. Except for Claire, of course. They were a bonded trio, their sisterhood forged by love and loss. There was nothing she would keep from her siblings, and nothing they would keep from her.

Surely, their grandmother knew that.

“Go on,” she said, even as part of her was tempted to plaster her hands over her ears and not listen to a word. She had no inkling as to what her grandmother was going to say, but she did know one thing: it wasn’t going to be good.

Secrets never were.

“I suppose I should start at the beginning.” Ruth paused. “But before I do that, I should like you to remember that you were truly the apple of your father’s eye. He adored you beyond measure, my dear. Nothing I say is going to change that.”

Joanna remained silent, dread and curiosity rising within her in equal measure.

“Your parents were childhood sweethearts. I honestly believe that from the first moment they met, they were in love. After your father graduated medical college in New York, their plan was to marry and settle here, in Somerville. He already had the house in town picked out, and your mother was all but decorating the nursery. But then…then things changed.”

“What things?” Joanna said warily as a rippling unease made its way down her spine. She knew her parents had fallen in love when they were very young. And she knew they’d married soon after her father became a doctor. Shortly thereafter, they had her, and then Evie, and then Claire. She’d heard the story a hundred times. Mayhap even a thousand. Yet in all its various retellings, there had never been a “but then”.

“While your father was in his last year of medical school, your mother traveled to London.”

Stunned, Joanna could only stare blankly at her grandmother. “She–she did?”

“Indeed.” Ruth clasped her hands together in the middle of her lap. Her fingers were clenched. Her knuckles white. “Her mother, your other grandmother who passed right before you were born, was born and raised there.”

“Her name was…” Joanna hesitated as she searched her memory. “Mabel. Mabel…Ellin?”

“Ellinwood. Your grandmother’s maiden name was Ellinwood. Mabel was the daughter of a viscount, and it seems her family was quite disappointed when she chose to marry an American and move to Boston. When your mother came of age, Mabel decided she wanted her to have a traditional coming out in High British Society. An attempt, I would assume, to reconcile with her family.”

Joanna’s head was spinning. She’d known–vaguely–that her Grandmother Mabel was from England, but she’d never given it much consideration. Her mother’s side of the family had always been a bit obscure. Especially given she and her sisters had never had the opportunity to meet any of them.

“Neither of your parents wanted Anne to travel overseas,” Ruth continued. “But Mabel was adamant, and gave little choice in the matter. Jacob wrote to her nearly every day and, at first, she wrote him back, but gradually the letters slowed, and then stopped.” Once again, Ruth looked to the painting. She stared at it for several seconds. Then she sighed, straightened her spine, and met Joanna’s wide gaze. “When your mother returned, some nine months later, she was carrying a child.”

Had Joanna been drinking something, she would have spat it out, so great was her shock. She threw the blanket over her legs aside, but paused shy of leaping to her feet. “What are you saying? Mother was–Mother was pregnant when she returned from London? But…Father wasn’t there.”

“No,” Ruth said quietly. “He wasn’t.”

“I don’t understand. I–we–have a brother or a sister? A half-brother or sister we’ve never known about? That’s the secret?” As a wave of relief cooled the fires of Joanna’s disbelief, she slumped in her seat. All things considered, a hidden sibling wasn’t such a terrible thing. And if the indiscretion had occurred before her parents were married, well, then, it wasn’t even really an affair. Certainly it was not preferable. But neither was it wrong. Except…

“Why?” she asked. “Why would Father have kept this a secret? Why would he have kept our sibling from us? Were they taken back to England to be raised with the Ellinwoods?”

“Not exactly.” Ruth’s eyes glistened. “The baby, a girl, was kept here.”

“Then why have we never met her?”

“Because, my dear, that baby is you.”

“No.” Joanna’s denial was swift and immediate. “No, that’s not right. That’s not true.” Auburn curls whipped across her face as she shook her head wildly from side to side. “I was born after Mother and Father were married.”

“Yes, you were.” Pushing out of the rocking chair, Ruth walked to Joanna and sat down beside her. She gently took her granddaughter’s trembling hand. “When your mother came home and shared that she was expecting, your father married her the very next day. It was a lovely ceremony. Sweet, and simple, and full of love. After it was over, your parents never spoke of Anne’s indiscretion ever again. You were, for all intents and purposes, their firstborn child, Joanna. And they made the decision to raise you as such.”

There was a ball of ice in the middle of the Joanna’s chest, growing larger and larger with every inhalation. Her breath hitched. Tears swarmed, stinging the corners of her eyes like the jabs of angry hornets. Her skin felt alternately hot and then freezing cold. Her teeth began to chatter. “But I wasn’t…I’m not…I’m not my father’s daughter. I’m not your granddaughter.”

Ruth slapped her.

The sound was like a gunshot.

Joanna’s head whipped to the side. She gave a sharp gasp and gently cupped the side of her face where the throbbing outline of Ruth’s hand was burning to the touch.

“You–you hit me,” she accused.

“And I’ll do it again,” Ruth said evenly, “if you ever dare speak such nonsense. I am your grandmother. You are my granddaughter. Maybe not by blood. But in every other way that matters, we are a family, Joanna. You, and I, and your sisters. And we will continue to be a family. This changes nothing.”

Except it did.

It changed everything.

If there was one thing Joanna had always been certain of, if there was one thing she had always believed in, it was where she came from. Those ties, those roots, made her who she was. She had red hair and blue eyes because of her mother. She had an inherent stubbornness because of her father. She had an iron will because of her grandmother.

Or at least, that was what she’d always assumed.

But how could she inheret a trait from someone she was not related to?

How could she be part of a family when her very existence was a secret?

How could her father and grandmother have lied to her all these years?

Her heart felt as if it had been cleaved in two.

One piece from before she knew the truth.

One piece from after.

And they were both bleeding.

“Who is he?” Unable to sit beside Ruth any longer, Joanna sprang to her feet. At the moment, she didn’t know what was worse. Learning she wasn’t who she thought she was…or the knowledge that the truth had been withheld from her for all these years. “My…that is to say, the man who my mother…”

“The man who sired you?” Ruth said gently.

“Yes.” Her hands curled into fists. “Him.”

“I don’t know. I don’t,” Ruth repeated when Joanna’s eyes flashed. “Your mother never shared his name with anyone. Not even your father. After your parents were married, they never spoke of your mother’s time in England ever again. It was as if it never happened.”

“But it did.” Because she wanted to throw something, Joanna pinned her hands behind her back and started to pace. “It did happen, or else I wouldn’t be here.”

“I understand you’re upset–” Ruth began.

“Upset?” Joanna interrupted. “Upset? I’m upset when Evie beats me in a game of checkers! I’m upset when it rains on a day I’d planned to go walking. This is more than being upset, Grandmother. This is…this is…I don’t know.” She stopped short. Threw her arms wide. “I haven’t a word for it.”

Or maybe she had too many words.

Distress.

Anger.

Confusion.

Betrayal.

Her mother, her father, her grandmother…they had all conspired to keep this from her. Together, they’d buried the truth of who she was. And that pain cut the deepest.

Joanna had been hurt when her father died. She still hurt to this day. But this was different. This was…this was dishonesty, and duplicity, and she found it difficult to meet Ruth’s gaze.

“Why now? Why tell me all this now, and not before? Or not at all?” She looked at the painting. But even that, too, felt like a lie. Her parents, their beaming smiles disguising the fact that her mother was already carrying a child. A child that was not her husband’s.

“Your parents asked for my silence shortly after you were born.” And if the slight tick of a muscle in her jaw was any indication, Ruth had not been overly pleased to give it. “I went along, because it was their choice to make. Over time…over time, it became an easy thing to forget. You are the mirror image of your mother. Sometimes, I catch a glimpse of you out of the corners of my eyes and have to remind myself that you’re not her. And ever since you were a born, you had your father wrapped around your adorable little finger. My son loved all of his daughters. But you, my dear…he always had a special bond with you.” Ruth smiled fondly. “To watch the two of you, peas in a pod, talking about books you’d read and the grand adventures you were going to take together. It was a special thing to behold.”

Which was exactly why Joanna felt flayed to the very bone. Because she did have a special bond with her father. And now to learn he wasn’t her real father…to learn that he’d lied to her all these years…

It was incomprehensible.

“That all being said,” her grandmother went on, “I knew the day you unearthed that ring in the attic we would have this conversation. I hoped that if it could be removed from our keeping, once and for all, the past might finally rest, and your mother’s secret along with it. But now that the ring has been stolen…I am afraid I had no choice but to go against your parents’ wishes and tell you the truth.” She closed her eyes. “I can only hope they forgive me.”

“But what does the ring have to do–wait.” Joanna’s mind flashed to the inscription carved into the band of the ring. An inscription she’d never understood…until this second.

Anne, my love ~ JW.

“It was from him, wasn’t it?” she demanded.

“Yes.” Ruth gave a clipped nod. “The only remaining clue to the identity of the man with whom your mother had her…liaison.”

Something in her grandmother’s tone gave Joanna pause. “You don’t think…you don’t think he stoleit, do you?” She couldn’t bring herself to call him her father. Even “sire” sounded wrong, as if she were describing some breeding stallion. She wished she had a name. Instead, all she had were two initials. J and W. Letters that were meaningless without context.

“Or he had it stolen.”

“Are you saying, all these years, he has just been waiting for the ring to resurface?” Joanna gave a short, incredulous shake of her head. “That would be impossible.”

A humorless smile laid claim to Ruth’s lips. “I should think nothing about this situation should be considered impossible. I’d remind you that as we speak, your mother’s ring is on a ship bound for London. That’s an awfully large coincidence, don’t you agree? Added to that, I’ve known Mr. Bernard for nearly three decades. His behavior towards you girls was highly out of character. I have to wonder if you would have met a similar outcome at every other jeweler in Boston.” She hesitated. “I told you I do not know the identity of your real father, and I don’t. But I’ve long suspected, from little things your mother accidentally shared here and there, that he was a person of great wealth and power. And people of great wealth and power are capable of extraordinary things. Particularly when they wish to acquire something not in their possession.”

Joanna sat back down. It was either that, or slowly fall into a crumpled heap upon the floor. Her mind was still spinning a hundred miles an hour, but her body felt as if she’d just swam ten laps around Boston Harbor.

Her limbs were heavy.

Her mouth was dry.

And her heart…her heart ached.

“What am I supposed to do with all of this?” She drew her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around her knees, just as she’d done when she was a child and it was storming outside. Curling into a ball had soothed her fears and uneasiness. But there was no comfort to be found now. “What am I–what am I supposed to think?”

“I’ve told you everything I know, Joanna. I probably should have told you sooner, and for that…for that, I am sorry.” Ruth glanced down at the floor. She was not a woman who apologized easily, or often. “But it is up to you to decide what you’d like to do going forward. You’re the eldest. The leader. The one your sisters look to in times of trouble. This does not change that.”

Joanna bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. “But without the ring, we’ve nothing.”

Ruth lifted her head. “Then go get it.”

Joanna hardly slept at all that night. How could she, with all that she’d learned? Secrets piled upon secrets, with still more questions than answers.

When dawn crept across the sky in a spill of pink and orange, she was the first to wake. Or so she thought, before Evie tiptoed across the bedroom they shared and climbed into bed with her.

“I heard everything,” Evie said without preamble, her voice hushed so as not to awake Claire who still slept, blissfully unaware of all that had been unveiled.

“But of course you did.” Joanna jabbed her elbow into her sister’s side. “You’re a renowned eavesdropper, and a gossip besides.”

Evie winced, then gave Joanna a jab right back. “I am neither, thank you very much. And it’s not my fault you and Grandmother were speaking loud enough to wake the dead.”

Joanna wished she could wake dead. For then, she’d be able to ask her mother why she’d had an illicit affair with an Englishman whose initials were JW. And she could ask her father why he’d agreed to cover it all up and raise another man’s daughter as his own.

Had he thought of her differently than Evie and Claire? That was what she really wanted to know. Had he looked at her and seen the man his wife had betrayed him with? Or had she always been his, right from the very beginning?

She liked to think it was the latter.

She hoped it was.

But how could she ever be certain?

How could she ever be certain about anything, ever again?

Sitting up, she pulled a pillow against her stomach and hugged it tight. “Did you know?”

Looking offended that Joanna would even ask, Evie gave an adamant shake of her head that sent her long hair, black as a raven’s wing, spilling across her shoulders. “No. I had absolutely no idea. I…I am sorry, Jo.”

“As am I.” Joanna clasped the pillow even harder, fingers digging into the soft feathers in a desperate need to cling to something tangible. “Grandmother believes I should go after the ring.”

“She wants you to go all the way to England?” Evie’s eyes widened. “I must have missed that part.”

“Eavesdropping isn’t perfect, I suppose.”

“I told you I wasn’t eavesdropping.”

“Then what would you call sitting at the top of the stairs and listening in on a private conversation?”

Evie pursed her lips. “Being observant.”

“What are you two discussing?” Her voice groggy with sleep, Claire sat up in bed and peered drowsily at them. “And why are you up so early?”

For an instant, Joanna considered hiding the truth from her little sister. But now that she knew what it felt like to have secrets withheld from her, she couldn’t do the same thing to Claire. Claire may have been the youngest, but she was also compassionate, and intelligent, and wise beyond her years. If they were going to get through this, they’d need to do it together or not at all.

Taking a breath, she began from the beginning, repeating everything Ruth had told her and Evie had overheard. Their mother’s affair in England, the quick wedding upon her return, the decision to raise Joanna as if she were Jacob’s daughter, and, finally, the significance of the ring.

Claire listened intently and did not interrupt with the exception of a soft gasp here and there, which Joanna could hardly blame her for. Even to Joanna’s own ears, the story sounded…well, it sounded made up. Like the plot of some gothic romance whereupon the heroine discovers she is the hidden by-blow of a mysterious English lord who then goes to great extremes to steal the only item that could link him to his illegitimate child.

But it wasn’t made up.

It was real.

And she was the hidden by-blow.

“That’s…that’s incredible,” Claire said once Joanna had finished. Sliding off her mattress, she hurried barefoot across the small bedroom and squeezed into bed between her two sisters. “I cannot believe Grandmother didn’t tell us–didn’t tell you–sooner. Or Father, for that matter.”

Out of habit, Joanna began to comb the tangles from Claire’s golden locks with her fingers. “I can only assume they were trying to protect me.”

She’d come to that realization in the middle of the night, while sleep danced elusively in a cloud of black and the stars flashed like diamonds in the sky. It made it better, just a little bit better, to acknowledge that her parents and her grandmother had acted out of love. But they’d still deceived her. They’d still lied to her.

And it still hurt.

“I cannot dwell on it, though.” She began to twist Claire’s hair together to form a long braid down the center of her back. “Not when I have a ring to find.”

Claire blinked in astonishment. “But…you can’t mean to really go to England.”

“Why not?”

“Because…because it’s England. It’s an entire ocean away!”

“Exactly.” Right now, an entire ocean away sounded perfect to Joanna. “We need that ring. It belonged to our mother, and now it belongs to us, and someone stole it. They stole it, and if I don’t get it back, who will?”

“We couldn’t afford to hire a hackney to take us to Boston,” Evie pointed out. “How are we to come up with passage across the pond, let alone room and board once we’re there?”

“We?” Joanna repeated, lifting a brow. “I never said anyone would accompany me.”

“As if I’d let you go alone,” Evie scoffed. “Do you know what they have in England that they haven’t here?”

“Crumpets?” Claire ventured.

“Dukes.” Evie’s blue eyes gleamed. “They’ve dukes. Dozens of them, so I hear. Practically dangling out of trees just waiting for a beautiful woman of impeccable manners and fashion to cross their paths.”

Claire frowned. “I don’t know if that’s how it works.”

“Have you ever met a duke?” asked Evie.

“Have you?” Joanna countered.

“No, which is exactly why I’m coming with you.” Climbing off the bed, Evie opened the closet and began to yank out dresses. “What do you think the weather is like there this time of year? I’ve been told it rains a lot.”

“Haven’t you heard? The tree dukes hold out parasols.” Despite the seriousness of the situation and the heaviness in her heart, Joanna couldn’t help but snicker. “You needn’t worry about the rain at all.”

Holding up her prettiest gown, an elaborate concoction of bows and bustle and green silk, Evie whirled around. “That isn’t funny.”

“Maybe not, but I’ve just had an idea on how we can afford to travel to London,” said Joanna as her gaze lingered on Evie’s ball gown.

Following the direction of her sister’s stare, Evie immediately bristled. “No. Absolutely not. I won’t sell it. I refuse.”

“Dukes,” Joanna reminded her.

“And crumpets,” Claire put in brightly.

Evie wrapped her arms protectively around her gown. “But if I sell my best dress, what duke will bother to look at me?”

“I guess you’ll have to win him over with your charm and wit. I wish there was another way,” said Joanna, and she genuinely meant it. “But that dress is the only thing of value we’ve left in the entire house. Once we get the ring back, you’ll have enough money to buy ten green frilly dresses.”

“It’s not green,” Evie sniffed. “It’s chartreuse. And how, exactly, are you planning to find Mother’s ring in the first place? The thief isn’t going to be waiting for us with a sign saying, here I am,.”

“We’ll hire a private investigator. The ring is very unique. With the inscription, it’s one of a kind.” Joanna finished plaiting Claire’s hair and looked around for a piece of ribbon to hold it in place. “Whoever JW is, he went to great pains to steal the ring. I’m sure a trail was left. All we need to is go to England, pick up the trail, find the ring, and steal it back.”

“Oh, is that all?” Evie said dryly.

“It does seem rather daunting,” Claire admitted.

“And when do I meet a duke?”

Joanna closed her eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers.” Her eyes snapped open. “I don’t even know what questions to ask to get the answers. But I do know that without Mother’s ring, and the money we’ll make by selling it, we will be huddling together for warmth come winter. It is our best–and only–option.”

Evie sobered. “If Grandmother’s theory about who had the ring stolen is correct, then finding the ring will mean finding your…that is to say, your…er…”

“Birth father?” Joanna had come up with the term last night as she’d restlessly tossed beneath her sheets. She needed to call him something, and it seemed as good as anything else. “I understand that. I think…” She plucked at a loose thread on the corner of the pillowcase. “I think that is why Grandmother wants me to go to England more than anything else. To search out that side of me. To find out who, and where, half of me comes from.”

“You come from here,” Claire said with shocking fierceness. “You come from us.” Her newly fashioned braid whipped through the air as she leapt off the bed and spun in a half-circle. “Going to another country and finding out who your–who your birth father is isn’t going to change that. You’re our sister. You’re Mother and Father’s eldest daughter. You were born right here, in Somerville. That’s who you are. That’s where you came from.”

Evie whistled under her breath. “Look at you, little duck,” she said, referring to a nickname they’d given Claire when she was a toddler and waddled when she walked. “I’ve not seen you this riled up since Georgie Pin pinched your arm at the village fair when you were six. Do you remember how red her face turned, Jo?”

“I remember.”

Claire flushed. “I don’t understand what came over me. Joanna, you’re the one who should be upset, not me. I just…I just know I haven’t the courage to travel across an ocean. I could hardly make it to Boston! And I know I’ll worry about you every second that you’re gone.” She gazed beseechingly at Joanna. “Please promise that you…that you won’t forget me.”

“Forget you?” Aghast at the very idea, Joanna jumped to her feet and flung her arms around Claire in a hug that left them both breathless. Clasping her sister by the shoulders, she rocked back on her heels and said sternly, “Don’t be ridiculous. If Evie and I go to England, it will be because of you. And even though you won’t be there in person, you’ll still be with us every step of the way.”

Evie gave a long, loud sigh. “You mean when. When we go to England. I’m so sorry,” she murmured, and it took Joanna a moment to realize she was talking to her gown. “I will never forget you.”

Had she not known how very much Evie’s dresses meant to her, Joanna might have been tempted to laugh. As it stood, she needed all of her facial muscles not to smile. “Are you certain?” she asked. “I don’t want to force you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“I’m certain,” Evie said firmly. “It’s only fabric, after all. And this…this is family.”

A burst of unexpected excitement flared within Joanna’s chest. Four days ago, she’d been turning down yet another lackluster engagement proposal. Now, she was on the brink of setting sail on a grand adventure that had the potential to change her past, her present…and her future.

“I’m going to England.” She whispered the words, then shouted them. “I’m going to England!”

“We’re going to England,” Evie corrected. “Where I will marry a duke, become a duchess, and live happily-ever-after in a grand palace with swans.”

“What color swans?” Claire wondered.

“Two of each color.” Evie tapped her chin. “And a herd of peacocks for good measure. Or is it a peck? A peck of peacocks.”

“A pride, I believe,” said Claire.

“A pride of peacocks?” Evie shook her head. “That doesn’t sound right.”

Joanna held up her hand. “Mother’s ring first, dukes and birds second.”

“But what if I meet a duke before we–oh, all right,” Evie grumbled when Joanna stared at her. “But I cannot be expected to wait forever. A woman has to have her priorities straight.”

“As soon as we find the ring, you can hunt tree dukes and pick out your peck of peacocks to your heart’s desire.”

“I really think it’s a pride,” Claire said hesitantly.

Joanna pinched the bridge of her nose. “Peck or pride, it doesn’t matter. We are going to England. And we are going to get our ring back.”