Love by Deception (Age of Innocence) (2 page)

“Come, let’s go downstairs for dinner. I
dare say that your father may be awake soon and will join us in the dining room
this evening.” Isabel stood and offered Georgette her arm for support.

“That will be nice. I haven’t seen him in
more than a week. It makes me sad to see him stumble around in a drunken
stupor, but he wasn’t always like this. Do you remember when he told lively
stories during dinner of his time living in London?”

Isabel nodded. “I remember, but I fear
the Mr. Condiff of old will not make a reappearance anytime soon. I wish there
was something more I could do for him.”

“Isabel, you do more than your fair share
around here. You mustn’t worry about Father. He has stopped listening to reason
a long time ago. The only thing we can do now is enjoy the moments when he is
lucid.”

The two young women made
their
way downstairs and into the dining room. Once Isabel
had Georgette seated comfortably at the table, she went into the parlor to
rouse the master. She found him in his chair, but he was not sleeping. His skin
had taken on a gray pallor and her worst nightmare had come true.

“Georgette! Come quickly,” she cried out.

When Georgette got to the parlor, tears
were streaming down Isabel’s face. “What’s the matter? Why did you cry out?”

Isabel looked at her beloved mistress.
“I’m so very sorry. Your father is dead.”

Georgette ran to her father’s side. “No,
oh no! He can’t be dead.” She picked up his hand and tapped it. “Father, come
on. Wake up now. Please wake up.”

“I’m afraid that’s not going to help. He
takes no breath.”

Georgette knelt beside her father and
held his hand to her cheek. “Oh, Papa, why have you done this to yourself? What
am I supposed to do without you?” She looked at Isabel. “Quickly now, you must
fetch Dr. Wyndham. He may be able to help.”

“Of course.” Isabelle nodded, grabbed her
coat and rushed out the door. She would run into the village to fetch the
doctor, but even if she ran as fast as possible, it would not make any
difference. Mr. Condiff was gone from this world.

She reached the doctor’s cottage in
record time and pounded on the door. “Dr. Wyndham, are you at home?”

The housekeeper opened the door. “Yes,
what can I do for you?”

“It’s Mr. Condiff. I need Dr. Wyndham to
come right away.”

“I’m right here, Isabel,” Dr. Wyndham
said as he grabbed his medical bag. “Luckily, I have just returned and the
horse has not been unhitched from the carriage yet. Come, let’s make haste.”

Isabel followed Dr. Wyndham out the door
and hopped into the carriage. “To the Condiff residence,” he told the driver.

“Yes, sir.” The driver snapped the reins
against the horse’s rump and they raced back to Georgette and Mr. Condiff.

Isabel began to cry silent tears. Her
life would change and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

Dr. Wyndham patted her hand. “Is it bad?”

Isabel nodded as another sob wracked her
body.

***

Two
weeks later Georgette sat stone-faced while the solicitor rattled off a list of
her father’s assets. John Ingham was in his mid-thirties, with thinning hair
and a slight build, but he had a soothing voice. It made it bearable to listen
to him read her father’s last will and testament. She was surprised at the list
of assets her father had, because she’d always assumed there were no assets
left. They had barely scraped by while he was alive. It was shocking to hear
that her father had 2,000 per annum at his disposal and that tidy per annum sum
now belonged to her.

“Do
you have any questions?” the solicitor asked.

“No,
thank you, Mr. Ingham. You’ve been most kind. I’m surprised, that’s all. I had
no idea my father had such wealth.”

“Yes,
I understand. There is one last item for you,” Mr. Ingham said.

“Oh,
what is it?”

The
solicitor passed a thick envelope to her. “Your father wanted you to have this
upon his death.”

“Must
I read it now? I am very tired and would prefer to go home.”

“No,
we’re done for now. I understand this is a most difficult time for you, Miss
Condiff. I’m very sorry for your loss. Contact me at your leisure if you have
any questions.”

“Thank
you, Mr. Ingham. Good day.”

Isabel
stepped forward and helped Georgette stand. “Shall I carry that for you?”

Georgette
nodded and gave the envelope to her maid. “Thank you, Isabel. Now let’s go
home. I would like to
lay
down. I find myself quite
winded.”

“Of
course, the carriage is waiting outside.”

The
trip to the solicitor’s office had been a strain on Georgette’s frail health.
By the time they returned home, she wanted nothing more than to fall into bed.

“Shall
I bring you some tea?” Isabel asked as she helped Georgette out of her day
dress and into a nightdress.

“Thank
you. That would be lovely.”

Isabel
pulled the comforter back and helped Georgette into bed. “You rest now. I’ll be
back shortly with the tea.”

Georgette
nodded and watched Isabel light a fire before heading downstairs. Another round
of tears threatened to overwhelmed her. Her maid was all that she had left in
the world. Her father had never mentioned any other family. She had been a
toddler when her mother had died, but there didn’t seem to be any relatives on
that side either. It made her sad that she never got to know her mother, and
she guessed her mother’s passing was the beginning of her father’s descent into
the bottle. He had never remarried, and it made her wonder why.

George
Candiff
was a handsome man in his youth, before the
drinking bloated his face and waistline and his moods turned black. He kept to
himself and she couldn’t remember him even talking about another woman he was
interested in courting. She would have liked to
have had
a stepmother, not only for the purely selfish reasons of wanting a brother or
sister, but for her father, too. It would have been wonderful to have someone
who would love her father and lift the sadness from his eyes.

It
was too late now. There would be no younger siblings to love or a mother’s
wisdom to share. There was only Isabel, who had been her constant companion for
as long as she could remember. Now that she stopped to think about that, she
was full of questions. Why had her father taken in Isabel as a child? What were
the circumstances that made him do something so unconventional? Isabel had
always been in the house, and for much of her childhood had been her constant
companion. She never thought to question those circumstances until now.

A
slight headache began to nag behind her eyes. She hoped it was from nothing
more than from the activity of today. She was not used to such a strenuous day.
Before she could stop them, tears leaked out of eyes. “Oh, Papa, I miss you so
much. Why did you leave me?”

“Here
we are,” Isabel said carrying a tray of tea along with bread and cheese into
Georgette’s bedchamber. She put the tray on the table beside the bed and poured
tea for both of them. “Please don’t cry. Here, drink this. You’ll feel better.”

Georgette
took the teacup and patted the bed. “Sit with me, will you?”

Isabel
nodded and sat next to her mistress. “I’ve brought you some cheese and bread.
You must eat something. I don’t want you to fall ill again.”

“I
know, but not now. I can’t stop thinking about my father.”

“Would
you like the packet the solicitor gave you?”

“Yes,
but would you mind reading it. I’m not feeling up to it.” She took another sip
of tea before putting the cup on the tray.

“Of
course.” Isabel slid off the bed. She walked to Georgette’s vanity, retrieved
the envelope and sat down again. She broke the seal and pulled out a letter.
“It’s a letter on your father’s stationery.”

“Please
go on and read it.”

Isabel
nodded and began.

My Dearest Georgette,

If you are reading this letter, I am no
longer with you. I left instructions with Mr. Ingham to give this letter to you
upon my death. There is so much to explain. I wish that I could have faced you
and told you the truth, but alas, I am a coward and prefer to let my words
speak for me.

Your Mother was the love of my life, but
our time together was so short. She loved you with all her heart. You were the
most beautiful child and the apple of my eye. After your beloved Mother passed
away, I was beside myself with grief. The days seemed endless and life didn’t
seem worth living until I looked upon your little face. How had I created such
a precious creature, I asked myself? You helped put the light back into my
life, and I shall be forever grateful to you.

When you were a toddler, I met another
woman. We fell madly in love, but she was not free to marry. We soon ended our
affair and I did not hear from her for many months. One day she came to my
doorstep. I was overjoyed to see her and thought we could now be wed, but it
was not to be. She came only to leave me with a newborn babe. When I looked at
the child, I saw my lover’s beautiful face reflected there and knew that I
would raise the baby girl. We had created something wonderful together and if I
couldn’t have her, at least I could keep our child close.

Have you ever wondered why your lady’s
maid was included in so many of the lessons in your youth? Isabel is that child
and she is your sister. I promised her mother that I would never reveal her
identity and I shall keep that promise, but my dearest Georgette, you are not
alone in this world. You have loved Isabel like a sister and though you did not
know it, that is exactly who she is. I hope you can take comfort in that.

Take care of each other.

Your loving father,

George

Georgette
burst into tears and deep sobs wracked her body.

Isabel
sat motionless on the bed, not knowing what she should do. Would Georgette
welcome her as a sister or resent her as her father’s bastard child? What would
she do if Georgette kicked her out of the house? How would she get another
position without a reference? “Georgette, I hardly know what to say.”

Georgette
nodded and the tears flowed freely. “I’m not alone,” she stammered.

“What?
You will never be alone. I will stay with you always.”

Georgette
pulled Isabel into her arms and hugged her tightly. “I have a sister. I am
overjoyed.”

Isabel
joined her sister in happy tears. She wouldn’t be tossed out. Georgette wanted
her. Words could not describe her joy and it was several moments before the two
young women separated.

“Georgette,
I can hardly believe this wonderful news.”

“I
agree, but I don’t understand why Father would keep this from us.”

“I
can only imagine he was protecting my mother,” Isabelle said. “I used to dream
about my mother. How wonderful it would have been to have known her, but I’m
afraid I shall never learn her identity now.”

Georgette
reached out and took hold of Isabel’s hand. “Don’t be sad, my dearest sister.
We have each other.”

Isabel
nodded. “I know and it makes me so happy.” She looked at the large envelope
again. “There’s more letters. Shall I continue?”

“Yes,
please do. I can hardly wait to see what else my father will reveal.”

Isabel
put the first letter aside and began reading the next one. “This one is
addressed to me.”

My Dearest Isabel,

I know the news that I am your father
must be a terrible shock to you, but circumstances were out of my control. Your
mother and I loved each other with a passion so deep it hurt. She lit up a room
when she entered and when she looked at
me,
I was the
happiest man alive. If there had been any way she could have kept you with her,
she would have. Please believe that. It nearly killed her to give you away to
me. The next best option and the only one that gave
her a
small sense of peace was for me to raise you. I’m sorry I could not give you my
name for the scandal it would have caused. Society would never have rested
until they uncovered the identity of your mother. It would have ruined her.

I could not let that happen, so I retired
to Essex far away from London and the ton’s prying eyes. I did the best I could
for both you and your sister. I hope that you will find it in your heart to
forgive a foolish man whose only mistake was to fall in love.

I have lived a sparse life so that you
and Georgette will have a considerable per annum after I’ve gone. I hope this
makes up in small part for a life without your mother.

Your loving father,

George

Isabel
hands dropped in her lap. “It all makes sense now.”

“What
does? What do you mean?”

“Mr.
Condiff was either barking orders at me or inviting me to share a meal with
him. I thought the brandy had addled his brain, but it was his emotions that
were conflicted.”

“Yes,
this explains why my father seemed so sad all the time. Are there any more
letters?”

Isabel
put her letter aside. “One more.”

Dearest Georgette and Isabel,

As I have mentioned in my other letter,
both of you will share a generous per annum. If the two of you desire a Season
in London, you may contact Mrs. Iris Quinn. She is an old friend of mine.
Arrangements have been made and she will be happy to host you both at her home.
Mr. Ingham will provide you with her address.

Isabel, while I have acknowledged you as
my daughter in my letter, you are not at liberty to take my name publicly. I
have respected your Mother’s privacy all these years and I hope that you will
understand. Mrs. Quinn believes you to be Georgette’s distant cousin. I thought
that was for the best.

Send Mr. Ingham a note if you decide to
go to London and he will make sure there are ample funds available for both of
you to enjoy the Season.