Chapter 3
I asked Mariana one question.
“What were you told about your mother?”
Beatrice answered.
“She died.”
I looked at her.
Again, wrong person answering.
Mariana tightened Renata’s shawl around herself.
“I was told she was young. Unmarried. She couldn’t keep me.”
“Who told you?”
“Mrs. Sterling.”
Beatrice’s expression hardened at the title.
Not Mom.
Mrs. Sterling.
That mattered.
Richard tried to soften his voice.
“We never lied to hurt her.”
Mariana looked at him.
“You told me my mother threw me away.”
The ballroom became quiet.
Beatrice rolled her eyes.
“You were a difficult child. You kept asking questions. What were we supposed to do, build your life around a dead woman?”
I stared at her.
She noticed.
“So she was dead?”
Beatrice paused.
A fraction too long.
I stepped closer.
“When you found Mariana, was Camille alive?”
Richard’s face changed.
Sebastian whispered, “Dad.”
No answer.
Rafe began collecting the scattered leather cases and transport sleeves from the floor. One sleeve carried the same blue thread as the old envelope.
Mariana saw it.
“That used to belong to Mrs. Sterling’s storage room.”
Beatrice snapped, “Stop talking.”
Mariana froze.
I turned toward her.
“No.”
Then to Beatrice.
“She keeps talking.”
That alone seemed to shock Mariana.
Not the order.
Permission.
I asked her whether the Sterlings ever allowed her to wear the necklace openly.
“Only when I was little.”
“What changed?”
She swallowed.
“When I was seven, a guest saw it.”
Richard looked toward Beatrice.
Mariana continued.
“He asked where I got Vance blue.”
My chest tightened.
Vance blue.
Old family language for sapphires worn by the women in my father’s line.
“What happened?”
“Mrs. Sterling took me upstairs.”
Beatrice scoffed.
“I corrected her.”
Mariana’s eyes dropped.
“She said if I showed it again, she’d throw away the only thing my real mother wanted me to have.”
Renata looked sick.
Sebastian muttered, “She was disciplining a child.”
My daughter turned toward him.
“She threatened a seven-year-old with her dead mother’s only possession.”
“She was not her mother.”
I looked at Sebastian.
“How would you know?”
Silence.
He realized it.
So did everyone else.
I moved closer.
“How old were you when they told you who Mariana really was?”
Sebastian’s face went pale.
Beatrice shouted his name.
He looked at her.
Not me.
May you like
And in that glance, the answer was obvious.
Sebastian had grown up knowing the “maid” in his house carried Vance blood.
