Chapter 3
Mae and I had not spoken privately since she returned to Ashford House eight months ago.
That had been my choice.
Or what I thought was my choice.
Four years earlier, I loved her.
Then I was ambushed in Manhattan.
Three broken ribs.
A knife wound.
Six weeks away from the estate.
When I came back, Mae was gone.
Marcus told me she had left willingly.
Celeste told me Mae had taken money and disappeared.
I believed them.
Not because I trusted Celeste then.
Because Mae never answered me.
Now she stood in front of me.
Older.
Thinner.
With a three-year-old girl who had my eyes.
“Why did you leave?”
Mae looked at Marcus.
He smiled.
“Careful.”
I turned.
“Threaten her again.”
He lifted both hands.
“I said one word.”
Mae’s voice shook.
“They told me you didn’t want me.”
I laughed once.
“No.”
“They said you knew I was pregnant.”
The room vanished.
Nora moved in my arms.
I looked at Mae.
“You were pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“How far?”
“Six weeks.”
I could barely breathe.
“And you believed I knew?”
“Celeste came to me.”
My fiancée stood.
“That’s a lie.”
Mae looked at her.
“You wore his signet scarf.”
Celeste froze.
I remembered it.
A black silk scarf carrying the Ashford crest.
Mine.
Missing after Manhattan.
Mae continued.
“You told me Nolan gave it to you because he didn’t want to speak to me himself.”
Celeste’s face hardened.
“You were desperate. You believed what you wanted.”
“No.”
Mae swallowed.
“You told me if I contacted him again, the baby would never reach birth.”
Nora tightened against me.
Something inside my chest went completely still.
I looked at Celeste.
She rolled her eyes.
“Oh, please.”
“You threatened a pregnant woman.”
“She was trying to trap you.”
“By carrying my child?”
Mae closed her eyes.
There.
Celeste realized.
So did I.
I looked at Mae.
“Is Nora mine?”
Marcus shouted:
“No.”
Too fast.
Too loud.
I turned.
He stopped.
Mae looked at Nora.
Then at me.
“Yes.”
One word.
Three years stolen.
Celeste laughed bitterly.
“You believe her because the child has dark eyes?”
Nora touched my face.
Then hers.
Same shape.
Same left dimple.
Same small notch in the eyebrow.
Mae whispered:
“I never wanted her to find out like this.”
Neither did I.
But Marcus had already revealed the part that mattered most.
May you like
He hadn’t questioned whether Nora was mine.
He had panicked because Mae finally said it aloud.
