A Match Made in Bed (Spinster Heiresses #2)(80)

“I would not.”

His watery blue eyes met hers. “You are as sympathetic as she was.”

“Please, tell me what you know.”

“I’m your father.”

It was a stunning admission. At first, she didn’t believe her ears. He nodded as if to confirm the words.

She’d had no idea. And Cassandra didn’t know what to say.

“I loved her,” he said. “Passionately. She was so bright and lovely. Caring. All the things you are. Of course, I was married and already had three of my children.” His wife was a stern woman.

“You and my mother had an illicit romance?”

“ ‘Illicit’ is not the right word. I’ve always regretted what happened between us. It was not her fault. I was the weak one and she paid the price. But I loved her.”

He squeezed her hand. “My lady, I realized my sin. No matter how unhappy I was in my marriage, I had betrayed my vows and I wanted to be right with God. I told your mother I must not see her again. I did not know she was carrying you. She never told me, and then her father up and married her to Holwell. When word came that she’d had a child, I knew just from counting the days that Holwell could not be the father.”

“Did you take the living here to be close to her?”

“No, I took it to be close to you. Your mother wrote me a letter about how ill she was. She told me about the living here. I grabbed it. Your mother died just days before I arrived. We didn’t even have the chance to speak to each other. I officiated her funeral.”

He loosened his hold on her hands and sat back. “However, it has been my good fortune to watch you grow into a graceful, intelligent woman. And now, I must ask you never to speak of this to another soul.”

Cassandra was stunned by the entreaty. “I don’t know how I feel about that request. We’ve known each other a very long time.”

“Oh, we can have our friendship, but I would not hurt my poor wife any more than I already have.”

“Did she know about you and Mother?”

“I don’t know, but I do carry a weight of regret in my heart. I love my children, my lady. I have found peace in my marriage. It is unfortunate that I married the wrong woman; however, I doubt if Elwood Bingham would have let Pen marry a village priest.”

Pen. Her mother’s name had been Penelope. Cassandra had never heard her referred to by a nickname, by a lover’s name.

Nor did she know what she would do with this information Mr. Morwath had just shared.

“Do you understand what I am asking you, my lady? To keep this between the two of us? I’m trusting you with this.”

“I will share with Soren. Have no worry that he will bandy it about. But I cannot bear this secret alone.”

“I do not wish to have him think ill of me. What happened between your mother and me may sound tawdry to the outside world, but it wasn’t. We were in love. It made complete sense to us. It was the very best my life has ever been.”

Cassandra stood. She needed Soren. He would help her sort this out. She held out a gloved hand.

“Mr. Morwath—” She could not call him Father. “I thank you for telling me. I now understand why you made sure I had books to read.”

“It was a way of reaching out to you.”

“A good way. If you will excuse me, I believe I should leave.”

“Do you want me to carry these books out for you?”

“I might have to come back for them,” she answered, needing a bit of space from him to reason through his confession.

“I make no claim upon you, my lady. I’ve actually waited for the day when I could tell you. You have heard that Lantern Fields was to be sold?”

“Sold?”

“Aye. They say that Holwell is done up. Apparently, paying your inheritance has left him broke.”

Should she lie? No. She was done with lies. She spoke her truth. “I didn’t receive an inheritance, sir. MP Holwell spent it unwisely.”

“We all wondered.”

“If only I had been that aware—” She stopped. “No, my life is exactly as I would wish it. I pray whoever purchases Lantern Fields will be good people.”

“That is a good wish, my lady.”

It would also mean she need never fear having her path cross with Holwell’s. “What will become of him?”

Mr. Morwath shrugged. “He’ll stay in London until his term has ended and probably retire here or someplace else.”

“He’ll go someplace else,” she predicted. The man who had pretended to be her father was too proud to humble himself after such a downfall.

He walked her to the pony cart. “I will keep the books you chose ready for when you need them.”

She nodded. In the past, she’d always shaken his hand before she left. She didn’t know what to do now.

For the first time, she noticed the resemblance between them—the height, the eyes, the set of her mouth. Why, she even looked very much like his daughter Beth, whom she had seen at services from time to time.

He answered the question for her. He leaned forward and kissed her on her cheek as if in benediction. Without a word, he turned and walked back around the rectory to resume his task of conquering the hawthorn.

She drove home, her mind somewhat numb . . . and yet, she had a sense of finally feeling complete. The truth could do that.