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Chapter Fourteen

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Heather spent the day relaxing and visiting with Jocelyn and Allison, just as she’d done a hundred times before, but it all felt off. Her time with Drake had given her a new confidence, a yearning to have a deeper relationship with these women whom she loved so much, even though she could never truly be one of them. If she accepted Drake’s proposal, could the two of them somehow find a place with their friends?

Jocelyn’s son, a toddler named Oliver, tumbled about upon the floor with his new puppy, keeping them all amused with his antics, and Heather noticed that Allison’s hand repeatedly went to her belly, as though she was thinking about her own child. Heather swallowed and covertly placed her hand on her own stomach, wondering if she and Allison might be pregnant at the same time. If she was Drake’s wife, then perhaps her child could actually play with Allison and Jocelyn’s as an equal.

My sister.

She found herself gazing at Allison’s profile for the millionth time, desperately trying to find something in Allison’s features that was reminiscent of her own. She’d kept her parentage a secret all these years, but suddenly, she had to know. Had her mother been lying? Had Allison known all along but just chosen not to acknowledge it?

“Are you my sister?” she suddenly blurted, and the words were so harsh and shrill they hurt her own ears.

Both Jocelyn and Allison froze, teacups halfway to their mouths, staring at her as though she’d sprouted wings. Heat spread through Heather’s body like she’d swallowed lava.

Unfortunately, it was too late to back down now. The words were out there, and she couldn’t take them back.

“What?” Allison finally asked, her lovely brow crinkling in confusion.

Heather swallowed, realizing that Allison didn’t know. Of course, she didn’t. Heather knew her well enough to know that she’d never let her own sister work as her servant. She’d always known that, so why was she letting her mind play tricks on her now? Why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut? She was going to ruin everything.

“Which one of us were you talking to?” Jocelyn asked gently, leaning over and placing her hand on Heather’s as if to give her support.

Heather glanced at Jocelyn gratefully but then met Allison’s lovely blue gaze. “When I was trapped with Blackstone, he asked me how I came to work for you, and I told him the story that my mother told me. It just made me start wondering if you knew. If you’ve known all along.”

“What story?” Allison asked carefully. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Heather.”

There was still time to stop, to blame her outburst on the kidnapping, but Allison’s eyes were so gentle and confused that Heather knew she had to go on. She took a deep breath, wondering what she’d do if Allison turned her out now the way her mother had once done Heather’s. She didn’t know that she’d blame her. Who wanted a reminder of their father’s sins brushing their hair each night?.

“When she was dying, my mother told me to go to your mother and ask her to take me in. She said that even though she’d been kicked out without reference, your mother owed me. Because I was your father’s child.” Tears stung Heather’s eyes as she told the sorry tale.

Allison gasped, pressing her hand to her chest, her eyes wide with shock.

Jocelyn squeezed Heather’s hand once more and then stood. “I’ll leave the two of you to sort this out,” she murmured, gathering up Oliver and hurrying from the room to give them privacy.

Heather winced, wondering why she’d done this in front of Jocelyn to begin with. But she honestly hadn’t been thinking at all. The words had flown out of their own volition.

“You’re my... sister?” Allison said at last, her own eyes brimming with tears. “Oh, Heather! Of course, I didn’t know. Of course not! But I’ve always wanted a sister, and I felt an affinity for you from the first day we met. This explains so much!”

Laughing and crying at the same time, Allison stood and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. “I love you, Heather. Nothing could make me happier than knowing that you’re my sister.”

“You’re not angry?” Heather whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I was so afraid you’d be angry.”

Allison pulled back and gave her a chiding glance. “I could never be angry to find out such wonderful news. The only person I’m angry with is my father for taking advantage of your mother. And my mother.... Well, this is yet one more thing she needs to answer for,” she added darkly. Allison’s mother had done many terrible things to her children, and Allison did not have a good relationship with her.

“I was glad that she allowed me to stay.” Heather brushed away the tears, even though they were still coming. “If she wouldn’t have, I’d have been homeless or forced to do what my mother did to survive.”

“Yes, but... Heather. You’re the daughter of an earl, and you’re working as my lady’s maid. You’re my sister, and you’ve been working for me this whole time.” Allison shook her head in wonder. “Well, I can’t change the past, but I can certainly change the future. You no longer work for me. As soon as we move back home, you’ll be given a guest bedroom in the family part of the house and an allowance. Whatever you choose to do after that is up to you.”

Heather gaped at her. “You’re willing to just take my word for it? I have no proof other than what my mother told me.”

Allison hugged her again, then pulled her to a large mirror in a gilt frame that hung across the room. “I see it. Can’t you see it? How much we resemble each other?”

“I’ve always thought that we do look a little alike. Especially around the eyes,” Heather admitted, staring at the reflection of her and Allison side by side. A thrill ran through her at her sister’s easy acceptance. Why hadn’t she done this years ago? She should have known Allison would react this way.

Allison grinned and pecked her on the cheek. “Besides, you’re my very best friend, and I’ve always thought of you as a sister. I love you. I trust you more than anyone except Quinn. I definitely believe in you more than I believe in my mother.”

“Thank you,” Heather breathed. “I love you, too, and you can’t imagine how wonderful it feels to hear you say that.”

Allison laughed and hurried toward the door. “Come on! We have to go and tell Quinn! I want to tell everyone! You’re my sister, and that’s something to celebrate!”

* * *

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WHEN DRAKE ARRIVED back at the Nesses’ house later that night, he was surprised to find a small party underway. Allison had invited all three of her brothers and their wives, along with a few other people he didn’t know. About a dozen guests were laughing and drinking in the sitting room, and he stood in the doorway for a moment, just watching, trying to figure out what on earth they were celebrating.

To his surprise, he soon realized that Heather seemed to be the center of the activity. One person after another approached her, seeming to be offering her congratulations. He’d gotten used to seeing her in rather plain clothing, but tonight she wore a dazzling lavender gown, which was cut low enough that it made his mouth water. The sparkling amethyst necklace had to be Allison’s, but he had no idea why she’d loaned such finery to her ladies’ maid.  

He shook his head, wondering what the hell had happened in his absence.

“They’re sisters,” O’Brien said, coming up behind him. “Allison just found out today, but apparently, Heather has known all along.”

Drake gave him a look askance. “And Allison is all right with it? She’s not upset?”

“Why would she be upset?” O’Brien asked, his expression inscrutable. “She loves Heather. We all do.”

We all do.

Drake gazed moodily at the woman who’d turned his world upside down, wondering what this meant for her. What it meant for him. If O’Brien and Allison’s half-brothers, one of whom was the Earl of Hawkesmere, were ready to give Heather their full protection, then what need did she have of him?

The thought made him strangely bereft, and he shook his head to clear it. “I proposed to her last night,” he said quietly. “I only want what’s best for her.”

“You barely know her,” O’Brien said, obviously not impressed.

“I knew that Allison was her sister before you did,” Drake snapped. “We shared a lot during those days we spent trapped together. I’m certain I know her better than I’d know some society chit I met at a ball and married a year later, having only spent a half dozen well-chaperoned evenings with.”

O’Brien suddenly laughed. “I suppose you’re right about that.”

Drake ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I feel like I’m saying everything wrong. I do care about her. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t. Besides, she didn’t accept. Not right away at least. She’s supposed to tell me tonight.”

Staring at him with what seemed mingled puzzlement and dismay, O’Brien finally waved a hand in her direction. “I won’t get in your way. Not if you mean to do right by her. But you’ll have to clear it with my wife.”

With a relieved nod, Drake stepped further into the room. One obstacle cleared. And he wasn’t too worried about Allison. They’d been friends since childhood.

And his conversation with Amelia earlier in the day had done a lot to ease his mind about the certain scandal. If she didn’t care, then nothing anyone else said mattered.

Now all he had to do was get Heather to agree to marry him. Forcing down his misgivings, he crossed the room to her side. She was talking to the Earl of Hawkesmere’s wife, a lovely blonde whom Drake had heard had once been a maid herself. All three of Allison’s brothers had married well beneath them, but they all seemed more than happy.

The fact gave him a little comfort. No matter what storm might come out of his decision to marry someone below him in social status, the Strathmores were living proof that he could withstand it.

With a smile at Heather, the countess stepped away, leaving the two of them temporarily alone. A glow of happiness lit Heather’s eyes and stained her cheeks, and he was completely enchanted with her all over again. Dear God, she was so lovely.

“Allison took the news well, I hear,” he said softly. “I’m glad you did it, Heather. I’m glad you had the courage to tell her the truth.”

“So am I,” she said, glancing around the room at all the aristocrats as though she wasn’t quite certain their love and acceptance were real. “She doesn’t want me to work for her anymore. She wants me to move down into one of the guest rooms and insists upon giving me an allowance. It’s all rather surreal.”

He tried to smile but feared it fell flat. “And what about you, darling? What do you want?”

She met his gaze for a long moment, and all the heat and passion between them flared hot and bright once again. “I don’t know. But I still want to go with you for the next few days. I want to be with you until you find the ones who did this to us.”

For the first time all day, the aching pit in the bottom of his stomach quit hurting. “Good,” he murmured. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Before they could say anything else, Allison beckoned Heather impatiently from across the room, where she stood with gorgeous dark-haired Vanessa Strathmore, who had been a famous actress until she married the reclusive Adrian Strathmore.

“Looks like you’re needed elsewhere,” he told her softly. “But I’ll have a servant pack your things and we’ll leave when the party is over?”

She nodded. “That sounds wonderful.”