After a Fashion (A Class of Their Own #1)(70)



“Absolutely not.”

Jane narrowed her eyes. “That’s unfortunate, especially since I now have no choice but to blackmail you.”

“What could you possibly blackmail me with?”

“I’m sure you won’t want your darling Mr. Addleshaw to learn anything about your mother.”

“We’ll leave my mother out of this, thank you very much.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d love to, but a man of Mr. Addleshaw’s social position will clearly not want to discover that his fiancée is illegitimate and . . . that her mother was actually nothing more than some man’s mistress.”

“You will watch your tongue in regard to my mother.”

“I’m only speaking the truth,” Jane said. “Your mother used her good looks to snag the attention of a wealthy gentleman—or gentlemen, I should say—although, unlike you, she never managed to procure a proposal. Unfortunately, she very rudely up and died after giving birth to you, and since I had no idea who your father was, I got stuck raising you. For that, I deserve compensation.”

Pain tore through Harriet as her aunt’s hateful words settled in. Jane had mentioned once before that her mother had a bit of a shady past, but she’d neglected to mention anything about numerous men.

A snap of Jane’s fingers in front of her face had Harriet pushing aside her troubling thoughts.

“So what’s it going to be? Me blackmailing you, or you choosing to introduce me into society as your loving aunt?”

Unexpected tears stung her eyes, and Harriet turned to look out the window as she tried to hold them at bay. Fresh pain settled in her heart, the reasoning behind that pain suddenly becoming crystal clear.

Her aunt was a despicable woman—of that there was no denying—and yet she was the only mother figure Harriet had ever known. A piece of Harriet, a piece she’d never once acknowledged, had apparently been holding out a small smidgen of hope that her aunt actually cared about her, loved her in some small way. She knew that was a foolish thought, especially since it couldn’t be true, not with her aunt threatening her with blackmail, but . . .

Blinking away the last of her tears, Harriet pulled her gaze from the window and settled it on Jane. “Have you ever cared about me?”

“What a ridiculous question.”

“It’s not so ridiculous, considering you’re my only living relative.”

“You’re being very annoying, and . . .” Jane’s words trailed off right as her eyes began to gleam in a rather disturbing manner. She stared at Harriet for a good second, then pushed up from the seat, sat down again right beside Harriet, and ignoring the hiss the cat sent her way, proceeded to take Harriet’s hand in hers.

Jane gave the hand a rather tight squeeze before she smiled. “Is that what’s truly bothering you, my pet? You don’t think I care about your well-being?”

Jane’s touch sent a shiver of what felt remarkably like revulsion through Harriet, and she resisted the urge to scoot closer to the window. “Threatening me with blackmail can hardly be taken as a sign of affection.”

“I know it must seem to you that I don’t always care, but I’ve never been an overly demonstrative person, and being given the responsibility of your care did place a large burden on me. I can clearly tell my lack of expressing to you my . . . er . . . love . . . has hurt you no small amount, but do know that I hold you in deepest affection and really want only the best for you.”

Although Jane’s words were something Harriet had evidently been longing to hear for a long time, the malice the woman couldn’t conceal in her eyes gave Harriet the unvarnished truth.

Jane hated her, had probably always hated her, but instead of causing another ache in her heart, Harriet felt only relief.

Perhaps God wasn’t put out with her after all. Maybe He had allowed her the opportunity of this daunting meeting with Jane to help Harriet discover the true measure of the woman who’d raised her. Perhaps He’d done so to finally set her free from any childish hopes she’d been harboring, and . . .

“Feeling better now, my pet, since we’ve squared away my feelings for you?” Jane asked.

“Strangely enough, I am.”

Squeezing Harriet’s hand one last time, Jane released it and moved back to the opposite seat. “Wonderful . . . and you’ll agree to introduce me to society?”

Swallowing the immediate “no” that had been on the tip of her tongue, Harriet forced a smile instead before she dropped her head and gave her attention to the cat, stalling in order to collect her thoughts.

Her aunt was dangerous—of that there could be no doubt—and Jane wasn’t likely to put her latest desire to be introduced to society aside easily. The one thing Harriet knew with absolute certainty was that she was going to have to come clean with Oliver the moment she got away from Jane. He needed to be warned about her aunt, needed to warn others in society about Jane as well, but . . . she needed more time to come up with a way to thwart her aunt once and for all, so that her friends would be safe and she could go about living a respectable life.

Lifting her chin, she nodded, earning a blink of the eyes from Jane in the process. “Because you have taken very good care of me over the years, and you hold me in great affection, I’ll do it.”

“You’ll introduce me to society?” Jane asked slowly.

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