The Heiresses (11 page)

“Vincent Allington.” The man with the green eyes stood upright now, bringing his body fully around the door. He stuck out his hand for Ro to shake. “I have to say you have perfect timing, Erato Halesworth. I am desperately in need of a break. Why don’t you come in and I’ll see if I can answer this intriguing question of yours?”

*   *   *

Anxious about how to politely ask the question to which she so desperately wanted the answer, Ro scanned the room nervously. Just as she had expected, there were piles of papers, notebooks, and books everywhere—on the desks, on the windowsill, on the floor, even stacked on top of an armchair.

“Would you like to sit down?” Vincent followed her gaze.

“Oh, no, thank you. It’s just that it’s very much like my uncle’s office. He’s a professor, you know. Of botany.”

“Ah, so that explains your beautiful, learned name. And that you seem at ease with my strange paper-stacking ways.”

Ro laughed. “Yes, very.” She was flattered to have her name called beautiful and that he knew where it came from—generally people thought it simply odd, or foreign. Or both. Her eyes scanned some of the books’ titles—the one closest to her read
A Civic Biology
. “So, you are a biologist, but I was a little confused downstairs before—exactly what is your area of specialty?”

“Eugenics. Have you heard of it?”

Ro frowned slightly. “Yes, I think so. A little. It’s all about improving the human race, isn’t it? Through breeding? Like you would do with animals, really. Horses and so on.” Now she saw why she had been sent to Vincent. She had been vague in what she wanted to know—blushing as she muttered about genes and breeding.

Vincent’s eyes widened. “I’m impressed. It must be my lucky day. It’s rare for ladies of your intelligence to stop by my office to ask questions. In fact, barely anyone ever stops by and the few that have were extremely boring old men. Believe me, I’d never ask them to sit down for fear they’d fall asleep and remain forever.” He moved over to the armchair now, picked up the pile of papers sitting upon it, and placed the papers on the floor. “But you, you must sit down. I’m dying to hear your question now. I’m sure it’s an awfully good one.”

Ro sat down. And over the next few minutes, again, very vaguely, she outlined her question, which was, essentially, would it be at all possible for a multiple birth to contain the progeny of two fathers. It was an idea she had come up with only this morning. She had almost brushed it away at first, thinking it a ridiculous notion. But then, from the back of her mind, she dredged up the small amount of information they had covered on human reproduction in biology at school, while their teacher had blushed furiously, which was ridiculous in this day and age. She had started to put two and two together and, not long after, grabbed her coat, found a taxi, and made her way to the university. Now, to her shame, she used a litter of puppies having different looks as an example as she asked Vincent for further information. She half expected him to laugh at her and send her on her way. “I’m afraid this is all a little beyond my scope. I am aware, of course, of Mendel’s work, but this…” She ended with a shrug, letting her words trail off.

“You know of Mendel’s work?” Vincent stared back at her.

“A little.” Ro nodded.

“Your parents must be very intelligent indeed to have given you such an excellent education. There’s nothing I despise more than the notion of learning French and the piano and being done with it all.”

“Oh, but I have no parents. My uncle is my guardian.” It was only after she said these words, ones that she had said so many times before, that she realized this was the first time in her life that she had uttered them and knew them to be absolutely true. Her parents weren’t pirates, or abducted royalty, or living off pineapples in a tropical jungle (all notions she had when she was younger). They were simply dead. As she thought this, she felt herself further drawn to Thalia and Clio.

“Ah,” Vincent said as he nodded, “I see. Now,” he took a step forward and then crouched down before Ro. His hair fell over his left eye once more and Ro longed to reach over and flick it back for him—to be the person who was allowed to do such things. The one person in the whole world who was allowed to straighten his jacket and brush that piece of thread from his trousers. Perhaps he was married? He had not mentioned a wife, but then, why would he mention a wife to someone who had knocked on his door wanting to ask a simple question? Ro forced herself to stop her daydreaming and concentrate. “You’re obviously an intelligent, educated woman,” Vincent continued. “If I give you the answer to this question I know you’re not going to be silly about it and blush and so on. We can talk freely about these matters?”

Ro nodded. She had come to ask her question of a man of science and now she must be prepared to listen to his answer in a non-schoolgirl-like manner.

“Excellent,” Vincent said. “Well, I must tell you it
is
possible. So, you are talking of these three puppies. You know that when a bitch is in heat, she releases multiple eggs, which is why you end up with so many pups?”

“Yes.” Ro tried with all her might not to blush.

“And you would expect all the eggs to be fertilized at the same time, by the same father…”

“Well, yes,” Ro said as she nodded again.

But Vincent shook his head. “Ah, but there’s the trick—the eggs can actually be fertilized at
different
times by
different
fathers. Say you had five puppies. They could, theoretically, all have different fathers and all look dissimilar, though, of course, they would share the same mother.”

Ro thought about this quickly. “But the three puppies…,” she said. “What if two of them looked very alike? Wouldn’t that suggest that they all had the same father? That there was some dominance of sorts?”

“And the third looked … entirely different, you mean?” Vincent listened attentively to her words.

“Extremely different,” Ro said and nodded once more, sitting forward slightly in the armchair, both fearful and excited by where this conversation was headed.

“No, not at all. It would simply suggest to me that two of them had the same father and the third had a different father entirely.”

Ro paled on hearing this. She had known it was impossible Clio could be born of two parents with blue eyes. Why she had doubted herself for even one moment she had no idea. For Clio’s sake, she supposed. She looked up at Vincent. “And this could happen to all sorts of animals? Cats? Mice? Even humans?”

“Certainly,” Vincent answered. “Though it is much less likely in humans, of course. Where the female of the species only tends to release one egg at a time.” He smiled his winning smile at her. “But, wait. You of all people should know the myth of Leda conceiving four children at the one time by two different men—Zeus and Tyndareus.”

Ro frowned, her thoughts elsewhere. “Well, yes. Vaguely. Though I can’t say I’d go looking to Greek mythology for scientific fact. And didn’t she lay them? As actual eggs, I mean?”

“I do have to give you that much. Not entirely realistic, I must admit. All rather odd, truth be told. Still, does that answer your question?” He rose from his position.

Ro continued to frown, staring at the floor now. So, it was true. Hestia had seen triplets born to her sister, without any switching or swapping. Therefore, the only logical solution was that Clio had a different father than her and Thalia. Yet, she could still be one of them. A half sister. Ro found she could barely breathe. She had been right about feeling this connection with Clio. They were related after all. In the space of forty-eight hours, she had come to have a full sister, a half sister, a half brother, and an aunt. She sat quite, quite still in the armchair feeling slightly lightheaded.

“Miss Halesworth?”

Ro blinked on finding Vincent before her once more. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said as she jolted to attention. “It’s just that … I had no idea. No idea at all this was possible.” To be truthful, she had never considered it. Not that humans could … and that her own mother had …

“This must be a very special dog,” Vincent said as he watched her closely.

“Yes.” Worried about being found out, Ro woke up to herself. She went to stand and Vincent took a step forward, toward her.

“Is there anything else I can—”

“No, thank you. It was just the one question,” Ro answered abruptly. “Which you have answered for me beautifully and which I must thank you very much for explaining so well.” She adjusted her hat and readied herself to depart. It was only now that she realized she had never even taken off her coat.

“It was my pleasure,” Vincent replied. Ro could feel his eyes still upon her, wondering why there was such a sudden change in her demeanor. Oh, if only he knew the truth of it all! What would he have to say about that? She was sure two fathers from one human litter did not line up with the high breeding standards of a eugenicist.

“I really must go.” Ro gestured toward the door. “Thank you so much for your time, Dr. Allington.” And then, because he made no move, Ro ran over to the door and opened it herself.

“Wait.” She turned to see Vincent follow her with a few brisk steps. “Please, call me Vincent.”

“Sorry, I must…” Ro was sure in a moment that her eyes would spill over and that she would cry. She was not usually such an emotional person, but everything she had heard was all too much to take in during such a short space of time.

He caught her wrist, forcing her to turn back toward him. “Miss Halesworth, please. May I see you again?”

“Oh, I…” Ro was not expecting this at all.

“It’s easy. Say ‘yes.’” Vincent smiled a winning smile at her as he released her wrist. “You can’t simply knock on my door and ask an intelligent question, fully understand the answer, be incredibly beautiful, and then disappear. It wouldn’t be right, you know!”

“I…” In all her life, no one had ever said such things to Ro. Ever. She wasn’t entirely sure how to reply. “Well, I suppose it would be all right.” Then, realizing this didn’t sound very inviting, she continued. “I would like that very much, thank you.”

There was a pause where the two of them grinned at each other in an extremely nonintelligent fashion.

“Do you have a card? An address?” Vincent finally asked.

Goodness, what a fool he must think I am,
Ro thought as she shook her head. “I’m visiting with my aunt,” she said, repeating Hestia’s address to him.

“I will remember it,” Vincent replied. “And your aunt’s name?”

Ro paused for a moment, but realized she was trapped. There was no getting around it—she would have to reveal her aunt’s name. “Lady Hestia Craven,” she said quietly, hoping for all the world that he had never heard of her.

Unfortunately, the shock on Vincent’s face was immediately evident. “Truly? Your aunt is Lady Hestia Craven?”

Ro nodded, with a gulp. Surely he would never come to call now? Most likely he knew she had been institutionalized in the past. She knew that eugenics did not hold much esteem for the feeble-minded.

But she need not have worried. Vincent’s smile widened. “Now she,” he said, “is a woman of intelligence and breeding. How lucky you are to have such an aunt.”

Vincent promised to call.

And by the time Ro closed the door behind her, despite the shock of what she had just learned inside the small office, she was desperately in love with the handsome Dr. Vincent Allington.

*   *   *

On the way back to Belgrave Square, Ro thought long and hard about whether she should tell Thalia of her findings. She would not have thought twice about it but for how Thalia had behaved yesterday, when she thought that Clio was returning home only to keep Charles happy. What if she somehow used this information against Clio? It had been Ro’s own idea to seek further information at the university about their situation and it was not something she had discussed with Thalia. But no … the three of them had agreed they would band together in this fight against Charles. It would be wrong to keep such a secret from either of them.

Ro was alighting from her taxi outside number 32, when the horn of a motorcar startled her with its sudden, long
toot
. It wasn’t until the taxi had taken off that she saw it was her that this noise was directed at.

“What are you waiting for?” Thalia called out, from behind the wheel of a shiny, dark blue touring car. “Get in!” She pulled over to the curb. Or, to be more exact,
onto
the curb. “Her name’s Esmeralda!”

After a long, disbelieving stare, Ro stepped over to open the passenger door with a tug and got into the motorcar. “Whose is it?” She turned to Thalia, running her hand over the immaculate, pale leather seat. She had to admit, it was a beautiful machine. But, before Thalia could answer, there was a scrabbling at Ro’s feet. “Oh!” she yelped, as something jumped up onto her lap—a West Highland white terrier, as it turned out.

“That’s Sir Haggis McTavish,” Thalia said. “But you can call him Sir McTavish.”

“I’m honored,” Ro replied, dubiously, as the animal proceeded to attempt to lick her to death, starting with her left ear. Beneath her, Ro felt the car roar under Thalia’s control. “Wait,” she said as her hand stretched out toward Thalia. “You haven’t answered me. Whose are these items?”

“Mine, silly!” Thalia laughed, turning toward her. “Or they are now.”

“You bought a car. And a dog.
And
cigarettes.” Ro eyed the packet on the seat beside her.

Thalia grabbed the packet. “Care for one?” She flicked the packet open. “They’re Chesterfields. American, you know.”

“I don’t know. And, no, thank you. Oh, Haggis McTavish! Do get down!” Obediently, the dog stopped jumping upon her and moved onto the seat beside her. “Sir Haggis McTavish is a despicable name for a dog.” She patted his soft, white head. “Anyway, where on earth did you find both the car and dog? Don’t tell me they came together. Or that you bought them from some man in the street.”

“Of course not,” Thalia replied, as if the answer should be obvious. “I bought the car and
then
I bought Haggis McTavish from a man in the street.”