Piers noddedand gestured to another painting on the wall behind him. “You seethat old bastard up there? That’s your grandfather, George Harlow.If you’re looking for someone to blame, someone to hate, he is yourman.”
Sure enough,the man in the portrait once again shared similar features withboth Piers and Crispin. There could be no doubt that he was indeeda Harlow.
“Could you please just tell us what happened to Crispin’smother?” Gwen insisted. “We’ve come a long way.”
“What does it matter?” shouted Crispin, surprising everyonewith his anger. Glaring at them both, he got up and stormed over tothe closest window. He needed to leave this place before he lostwhatever was left of his mind. “She obviously didn’t want me! Whyshould I care to know anything about her or this godforsakenfamily!”
“Sit down!” Piers shot up from his chair and glared across theroom at Crispin. “You have no right to speak of your mother withsuch disrespect. Cassandra loved you more than anything in thisworld! So much so, she died for you!”
“Lies!” Crispin said with a shake of his head. “I refuse tobelieve any of your lies!”
“It is not a lie! It’s God’s truth!” Piers insisted, his fistsclenched at his sides.
Unable to sit back, Gwen walked over to Crispin and grippedhis elbow. The muscles of his arm were taut and he was tense beyondbelief. “Crispin, just hear him out. I know you must be hurting,but you need to calm down.” Instead of fighting her, he took amoment to breathe before he relaxed his glare, lowered his head andslowly took her hand. He neededher. Gwen’s heart leapt in her chest at therealization. Their sudden role reversal surprised her. But underthe circumstances, she understood his need for her to take controlof the situation. Unable to cope with so much information, heneeded her to be the strong one.
“Please, dear boy, sit,” Piers said, regretting his outburst.“Give me a chance to explain.”
Allowing Gwento lead, Crispin followed her and sat back down in his chair. Allthree of them took a moment to calm down. Looking at Crispin, shenoticed he had his elbow on the armrest of the chair, head in hand.This must be pure torture for him. He hadn’t expected to come here,but since he had, he deserved an explanation. She then turned herattention to Piers, “Please tell us what you know.”
Piers noddedand took a sip of brandy before speaking. “I’ll try to be quick butthorough. Your mother, Cassandra, my dear sister, got pregnant atthe tender young age of sixteen. Terrified, she hid the pregnancyfor as long as possible. When our father found out, he lost it. Yousee, he was all about appearances and status, and you can imaginewhat a blow it was to discover his young daughter was with child.Fearing he would want her to have an abortion, she kept you asecret until it was too late to do anything. Our father wasfurious. Being a heartless, old-fashioned bastard, he sentCassandra to Canada to live out her pregnancy with a distantrelative. His orders were for her to have the baby, and give it upfor adoption, or be disowned. But my dear sister and I were veryclose. Before she got sent off, she in confidence, told me of herplans to keep the baby. But sadly, she died during childbirth. Ourfather then brought her body back to England to bury her at theHarlow Cemetery. He informed me then that both baby and mother haddied. He very unceremoniously went on to say that it had been forthe best.”
“Heartbreaking…” Gwen gasped, shaking her head. At the tremblein Crispin’s hand, she steeled herself and forged on with herquestions. “But what about the letter? You sent a letter addressedto Crispin Hewson. Why would you have sent the letter if youbelieved Crispin had died along with his mother?”
Piers noddedpensively. “You both have to understand, I was only ten whenCassandra got sent away, eleven when she died. Powerless at thetime, I simply believed what my father told me. But when I turnedtwenty-seven, my father’s health took a turn for the worse. On hisdeathbed, he must have felt the need to confess. He asked me to hisside where he then told me the truth. Cassandra’s child had notdied. He was very much alive. He gave me the combination to a safein his study. In that safe, I found your birth certificate withyour name on it.” He paused, closing his eyes and taking a deepbreath. “Crispin… named with your mother’s last breath, after herfavourite teddy bear.” He paused, overwhelmed. “She loved thatbear. God, she was still such a child!” He gave his head ashake.
When Gwenturned her attention to Crispin, she winced at the sight of asingle tear streaming down his cheek. His eyes were closed, hisfingers massaging his temples. It was hard to watch and her owntears threatened to follow. But instead of giving in to heremotions, she steeled herself. Crispin needed her strength and shewas damn well going to give him that. She turned back to Piers andgestured for him to continue.
“Hewson… is your father’s surname,” Piers explained. “You’rehalf Irish, by the way.”
“My name is Crispin Clover, not Hewson nor Harlow!” Crispinstated clearly. “I belong to no one.”
“Clover?” Piers repeated with a quirk of his brow. “Clover…interesting choice.”
“Get used to it,” Crispin snarked.
Piers frownedat Crispin’s tone before shrugging it off. “Anyway, I sent theletter the day after my father’s funeral,” he continued,undeterred. “But you never wrote back or called. When Iinvestigated further, I was informed you had emancipated yourself.You had changed your name. It was illegal for officials to give meany forwarding information on your whereabouts. Essentially, youdisappeared. I hired private investigators but had no luck findingyou. This is why I am so very happy you are here. See, despite myfather, I loved my sister. All we had was each other. Amidst allthis wealth you see here, our childhoods were devoid of any form oflove and tenderness. Our mother died young, leaving us to a fatherwho cared more about his investments, appearances, and status thanhis own children. The
