| SHORT STORY | wards them, talking flat out. “Mama, I held a…” Star trailed off on seeing Edward. “I beg your pardon, sir. I did not know Mama had a visitor.” Anne stood, fighting the urge to put Star behind her. He wouldn’t want her. He had no right to her. Aunt Hester rounded the corner of the castle, puffing slightly. The climb up the steep narrow path behind the ruins had clearly tired her. Anne saw the falter in her step when she recognized Edward, but she kept coming. Anne barely spared Aunt Hester a glance, unable to take her eyes of Edward. Edward’s eyes narrowed as he intently examined Star’s face. He could not mistake the resemblance. Aunt Hester curtsey was shallow and her voice cold. “Lord Hicklestone.” Like Anne, she had thought Margaret preferred the older brother, and had been relieved when she chose the younger. Fools that they were, they thought Edward kinder and more trustworthy. Edward wrenched his eyes from Star and bowed in return. “Miss Cleghorn. It has been a long time.” He challenged Anne with his eyes. “Will you introduce me to your… daughter?” Dear Lord. Anne could not faint now. “Lord Hicklestone, may I present Miss Estelle Cleghorn.” Star curtseyed beautifully as she had been taught. “Have you ever heard of a sow having 26 piglets, Lord Hicklestone?” she asked, oblivious to the emotions swirling around her. “No, Miss Estelle, I have not.” “Well, the Hardwick’s sow did, and I have been to see them. Hardwick is having to move them to other sows, and I was allowed to carry one!” Edward had crouched down so his head was on the same level as Star’s. “How exciting,” he said, sounding as if he meant it. “I must see this phenomenon for myself. Do the Hardwicks live nearby?” Star pointed back in the direction she’d come. “Just on the other side of Hickle,” she explained. “Are you from Hickle, Lord Hicklestone? Because you have the same name.” Aunt Hester squeezed Anne’s hand, then turned to the child. “Come and wash up, darling. It shall soon be time for supper.” Star heaved a large sigh. “I always have to wash,” 76 | UncagedBooks.com
she mourned. “Even when something interesting is happening.” “Now, Star,” Anne warned, and — apart from another hearty sigh — Star went without protest. “She is Margaret’s,” Edward said. It was not a question. Anne’s response was a fierce hiss. “She is mine now.” “And John’s,” he continued, without acknowledging her challenge. That stopped her. He was denying responsibility? She shook her head. “Yours.” “No, Anne. That’s not possible. I never touched her — she wouldn’t allow me even a kiss, and I’d not have taken more. She was to be my wife!” His eyes held only truth, and her heart accepted it while her brain was still trying to argue. She sank back onto the bench, her legs unwilling to hold her. “Did she tell you the child was mine?” The indignation in his voice would have convinced her if she had not already accepted his claim. “She would not tell us who the father was. But she was betrothed to you. She would not have…” Anne was measuring Edward’s certainty against the events of that dreadful time. Edward had disappeared overnight. A few days later, the earl had left for London and never returned. Margaret had seemed unconcerned at first, but then one morning, they woke up to find her gone. She’d left a note: “I have gone to London. I must talk to him. I love you all.” She returned three weeks later, pale and silent. She said little; only that she was with child and the father refused to wed her. And four months later she gave birth to Star, turned her face to the wall, and died. “It was the earl all along,” Anne said. Another thought struck her, and she reached out a hand to clasp Edward’s. “Dear Heavens, Edward. She must have known she was with child when she accepted your proposal! Poor Margaret. How she must have suffered.” *** Anne had called him Edward, as she used to when he expected to become her brother. He sat beside her, still holding her hand. It felt right in his, as if it belonged. In all his anger and hurt pride, he had not realized that Margaret, too, was a victim in all this. A victim