Although quaking, her butler continued to insist, “Madam Van Hallsburg is not available this evening.”
“Then she’d better get available,” Zeke said crudely. “Fast.”
The butler had made a dive to summon some footmen to his aid when she intervened. “It’s all right, Chivers. You may admit Mr. Morrison.”
It was an unnecessary command, for Zeke’s head had snapped around at the sound of her voice. He came charging in her direction.
“Good evening, John,” she said, maintaining a calm that for once she didn’t feel. “I thought that I had at least taught you not to attend a party when you haven’t been invited.”
“Your party be damned. I want to talk to you.”
This wasn’t one of his usual blustering rages. His mouth was taut with some suppressed emotion, his eyes hard, accusing. She felt a prickling of, if not apprehension, at least of warning.
“We were just sitting down to dine, but I suppose I could spare you a few minutes.” She turned, beckoning for him to follow her.
She led him into one of the house’s smaller parlors much favored by her late husband for its dark furnishings and gloom-ridden atmosphere. She seldom bothered with the chamber, soconsequently the air in the room was stale. Even the lamp she lit did little to dispel the darkness.
Zeke became a little more subdued. Whether it was owing to the funereal aspect of the room, or to Mrs. Van H.’s customary chilly demeanor, he couldn’t have said. He had been carried to her doorstep by a fever pitch of emotion. But now face-to-face with the elegant, self-possessed woman, what Tessa had told him seemed incredible.
He waved aside her offer of a drink. Refusing to be seated, he paced in front of the hearth, no longer so certain where to begin.
“What is so urgent, John?” She favored him with a brittle smile. “Surely it cannot be that you have come to your senses over that little circus girl, that you have been reconsidering what I offered you?”
“No!” The mere reminder of her offer sent a shudder of revulsion through him, especially as he considered the possibility that what Tessa had told him was true.
“I only came here because I need some questions answered, questions about some information I received.”
She looked wary, but at the same time almost resigned. “I see. You must have been talking to your friend Mr. Duffy.”
“Duffy? What the hell has he got to do with this?”
“Why, I thought— Then I am afraid I don’t understand.”
“I’ve come to you about something my sister told me.”
Zeke could find no way to approach the matter subtly. In his usual blunt manner, he laid out for Mrs. Van Hallsburg everything that Tessa had said. She listened in silence, with no more reaction than a flicker of an eyelash. She made no effort to confirm or deny any of it.
“Well, is it true?” Zeke demanded. “Did my mother ever come to see you?”
“Your mother? Oh, you mean that dowdy little Italian woman.”
“I mean Sadie Marceone.”
When she still showed no inclination to reply, he barked, “Answer me, damn it.”
“There is no need for you to be coarse, John. I have every intention of answering you.” She shrugged. “Yes, your Mrs. Marceone called upon me. But don’t expect me to remember all the details. It was a long time ago, just after she adopted you.”
Her lip curled. “Those ridiculous people from the orphanage sent her to me, and after my father had paid them a goodly sum to keep quiet about your ancestry. I warned him it wouldn’t work. As far as I know, there is only one effective way of silencing people.”
Zeke stared at her, chilled not so much by her words as her manner. She was confessing it was all true, just like that, as calmly as though these facts of his life held no more meaning than reading off the social register.
“Then you are admitting you’ve always known about me—who I was?”
“My family managed to follow your progress, even when you ran away from the orphanage.”
Did they? Zeke thought with a surge of bitterness. They had known when he had slept in the gutters, pawed through garbage in search of something to eat, fled for his life from the blades of some street gang. She had known.
“And my father too? Did he know what became of me?”
