"Never fear, my child," the Duchess assured her. "Anyone who helped you can be sure of my goodwill. Oh, dear, I do hate to think of what you must have gone through! Who is this Bagshot person?"
"No one to whom you need give the slightest thought," Carlton told her. "I assure Miss Ransom that I will endeavor to locate this – er – Maggie person. I have the greatest interest in interviewing her." The gleam of malicious curiosity in his eyes assured Marianne that this was probably correct, and that Maggie would be assisted, if for the wrong reasons.
"If I may be allowed to resume?" Carlton asked. "Thank you, Miss Ransom. The person from whom I obtained your London address was of the male sex. You probably know to whom I refer."
Marianne nodded. She should have known Carlton could not have obtained her address from Maggie. Wilson was the only one who knew it.
Methodically Carlton resumed his report.
"From Mrs. Shortbody, your landlady, I learned that you had recently come from Yorkshire. I was able to convince her of my bona fides, though naturally I did not explain the reason for my inquiries. She is under the impression that there is a small legacy involved." He added, with a meaningful look at Marianne, "Nor did I feel it was necessary to tell her where I had recently seen you."
Marianne's cheeks burned. "Thank you for that," she murmured.
"Oh, no thanks are required, I assure you. At any rate, I took Gruffstone with me the next time I visited the place to which we have been referring so obliquely; as things turned out, it was your last night there, though of course we did not know that. Having seen you, he rushed off to Yorkshire like a knight of old following the Grail, and I did my duty by returning nightly to – er – that place. It was a great sacrifice on my part, of course."
The wicked twinkle in his eye did not escape Marianne; but the Duchess took him quite seriously.
"I am deeply in your debt, Roger. I know your sober habits."
"Your Grace is too kind. To resume – when Miss Ransom failed to appear for two nights running, I returned to Mrs. Shortbody, and after a prolonged inquisition I managed to ascertain that she knows nothing of Miss Ransom's family history. She is a friend of a friend and has no acquaintances in Yorkshire."
"But she knows Mrs. Jay, and Mrs. Jay has known me since I was a baby," Marianne exclaimed. "If there were any mystery concerning any real parentage, surely Mrs Jay -"
"I did not speak to Mrs. Jay, I spoke to her friend. I am convinced that if there is a secret concerning your parentage, Mrs. Shortbody knows nothing about it."
Marianne was forced to admire his impartiality. Though he was clearly against her, he had assessed the evidence fairly.
And why, she wondered suddenly, should I think of him as against me? I agree with him. I am not the daughter of that strange unknown man. I am my father's child. The Duchess has got it all wrong.
Seeing her absorbed in her own thoughts, the lawyer waited, with somewhat ironic courtesy, for her to return to the discussion. As Marianne continued to muse, trying to assess her real feelings, she recalled something the Duchess had said earlier, and all at once the true meaning of the casual comment dawned on her. The angry blood rushed into her face. She could not bring herself to accuse the Duchess, who had been so kind to her, so she turned her rage on a more suitable object.
"How dare you imply such things about my mother!" she shouted at Carlton.
He burst into a disconcerting shout of laughter.
"I wondered when that would strike you. No one really believes that your mother's honor is in question, Miss Ransom."
"Oh, no, my dear," the Duchess exclaimed. "Or, at least, if any such thought passed through my mind, let me apologize. I never knew the name of David's sweetheart. I am sure that if he had known about you, he would have married her at once. Perhaps only his passing prevented that. Finding herself alone in her pitiable state, your dear young mother must have been forced to give you up for adoption. That is all I meant."
The illogic of the statement and the apology failed to occur to Marianne. She could accept with relative complacency the idea that some unknown girl had committed the unforgivable sin, so long as Squire Ransom's wife was left with her reputation intact.
"Get on with it," the doctor said irritably.
"I will if I am allowed," the lawyer replied with some acerbity. "I trust there will be no further interruptions. To return, then, to what I was saying. Mrs. Shortbody, persuaded at last that Miss Ransom would hear something to her advantage, directed me to Richmond. Learning, to my surprise, that Dr. Gruffstone had – in my opinion most unadvisedly – let slip the state of our inquiries to Your Grace…"
"Stupid," the doctor muttered. He gnawed at his mustache. "Devilish stupid of me. Sorry."
"Now, Horace, when have you ever been able to hide something important from me?" the Duchess asked with an affectionate smile. "I knew you were trying to conceal something; and in view of the fact that I have been searching for David's daughter for several years, naturally I was able to guess the nature of the secret."
"However it came about, the fat was in the fire," Carlton said. "Her Grace insisted that I locate Miss Ransom at once. I found matters in Richmond in such a state that it seemed best to remove her. And so, here she is, and I am most curious to learn the results of the good doctor's investigations."
All eyes – including Marianne's – turned expectantly toward the doctor.
His chair gave off a perfect fusillade of creaks. Fearing for the dainty object – in which she had already, unconsciously, begun to have a proprietary interest – Marianne was relieved when he pulled himself out of it and began to stalk up and down the room. She realized that she was awaiting the doctor's statement with as much suspense as were the others. Which was ridiculous! She knew her own parentage.
"The evidence." Gruffstone said, "is inconclusive."
"What on earth do you mean?" Carlton demanded.
"Just what I say." The doctor continued to pace. "The young lady was born in York -"
"I was born at Wulfingham, in my – in Squire Ransom's house," Marianne exclaimed.
"Your mother was on a visit to York when – as she claimed – you were born a month before your time," the doctor said shortly. "I have here a signed affidavit to that effect, by a former servant, one of the housemaids." Irritably, as if he hated what he had to do, he flung a crumpled paper onto the table.
The young lawyer snatched it up and began to read. He had obviously not expected this development, and for once his countenance expressed his true feelings – chagrin and suspicion.
"It was difficult to obtain the facts," the doctor continued. "Particularly when, as I believed, it was necessary to conceal my reasons for demanding them. Few of the servants who were alive at that time are to be found. Mrs. Ransom's maid, who might have been useful, has been dead for ten years. Those few who remained in Mr. Ransom's employ departed for other positions after his estate was settled. Many of the older villagers remember Miss Ransom and her parents quite well, but naturally they were never admitted to the confidence of the Squire and his lady. If there was a secret, it was well kept."
"That is precisely the nature of a secret," the Duchess said. "It should not be common knowledge. If Mrs. Ransom desired to have the child adopted as her own, she would make sure that few people, if any, knew the truth."
"No doubt," the doctor agreed gloomily.
"Oh, nonsense," Carlton exclaimed. With a pettish gesture he threw the affidavit back onto the table. "It seems to be in order, but it tells us nothing. Why should Mrs. Ransom endeavor to conceal the fact that she had adopted a child?"