tomorrow.”
“Oh yes! Can I help you? The bees would be ever so easy! We could make them from marzipan,” Pip squealed, bouncing up and down in her seat.
Jane exchanged a look with Lord Wallace and did not answer.
“This room is lovely, Your Grace,” she directed her comment to the duchess. “Were the artists from England? Or France, perhaps? The murals are excellent.”
“They were French. You like the room then, Miss Gray? I have thought about having it redecorated. The Oriental style was all the rage several years ago, but I have been told by more than one friend recently that it has become très outré .”
“Oh no!” Pip cried. “It’s très charmant! ”
The duchess laughed, shocked to hear the foreign phrase spoken by Pip. “If you like it, then I will keep it exactly as it is,” she looked at her granddaughter warmly.
Finn’s eyebrows shot up. “You speak French, Pip?”
“ Un petit peu ,” she answered and Finn turned to Jane with an incredulous look.
“My mother was French and she refused to speak English to me at home,” she explained. “She insisted I learn her native tongue in order to converse with my French relatives. I’ve done the same with Pip, although I’m not as militant as mother was. It’s easiest to learn languages when one is young.”
Pip was still focused on the fate of the murals. “You aren’t going to change it, are you?” she implored.
“No, dear. If you like it, I’ll keep everything exactly as it is for as long as you want me to,” the duchess said.
Pip looked confused. “Because I like it? May I come to see it again some time?” The duchess smiled indulgently and nodded her head. “And may I play with the dolls, too?”
Jane decided to take the initiative.
“Pip, remember what I told you about your first mother?”
“The one who’s in heaven?”
From the corner of her eye Jane saw the duchess raise her hand to her mouth.
“Yes, the one in heaven.” The Duke and his brother went absolutely still.
“We came to visit today because I’ve learned these people are your other mother’s family. The duchess is your grandmother and Lord Wallace and His Grace are your uncles. They’re your family, Pip.”
Pip pressed a tiny hand to her chest. “ My family?” She looked at the duchess skeptically then squinted at the two men across the table.
“Yes,” Jane said and debated for a moment how much more she should say.
Pip was frowning.
“What are you thinking, Poppet?” Jane asked softly.
“If they’re my family, why don’t I know them?” A logical question, but Pip would not be able to comprehend the truth for many years. Jane put it in terms a child could understand.
“You were lost and they didn’t know how to find you. They’ve been right here in this big, beautiful house hoping you would come home one day. It’s just like the fairytale I told you about the girl who thought she was a pauper but was really a princess.”
“But I’m not a princess and I haven’t been lost, Mama. I’ve been with you at Sugarmann’s.” Pip looked at the duchess uncertainly. The expression of pain and longing on the woman’s face was intense. Unnerved by the strong undercurrents in the room, Pip climbed into Jane’s lap, placed her palms on her cheeks, and asked, “When are we going home, Mama? I’m tired.”
How am I supposed to answer that?
Jane’s heart was breaking as she wrapped her arms around the child she had always thought of as her own. She hugged Pip close, and turned to Rutledge with pleading eyes. “Perhaps Pip could play with Jenny for a while longer in the garden, Your Grace? It would provide us with the opportunity to discuss… things.”
“Of course.” Rutledge glanced at a footman who promptly left the room in search of Jenny. She came in moments later to collect Pip.
“Wouldn’t you like to play with all those beautiful toys?” Jane asked. “I bet Jenny could show you more pretty rooms like this one. Is