ut the night's events from a safe distance. Robert and Ciara were busy trying to smooth things over with the few impo

away to a small, quiet sitting room

nd her mother, Eliza Schmitt, walked in. Her

cene?" Eliza's voice was sharp with reproac

would have wounded her deeply. Now, she only felt a distant pity for this

he asked a simple question. "Eliza, d

ed. "Martha

her voice soft but firm. "I asked if you truly

ompletely off guard. She st

ou know? Ciara is your husband's daughter. His illegit

yes widened in horror. "You're lying," she

ertificate. Check where your husband was nine m

as she leaned against the wall for support. The fou

seed. She knew it woul

n who radiated an aura of quiet power, his eyes filled with a deep, aching sorrow as he looked at

ndfather, Arthur Woodar

acket and draped it gently over Eveline's shoulders, covering her ba

nding on the stunned Eliza. "The Schmitt family's brand of education,"

around herself finally cracked. A wave of exhaustion and v

nd of hair from her face. "It's

ssed by Frederick, who had

e, the way she leaned into his touch with an easy familiarity. His jaw t

ed out of the room, out of the estate, and out of th

k from Arthur Woodard froze him in place. The old man's eyes held a lev

ing in the hallwa

a ghost in a designer gown, Eveline'

ost her. For good. For the first time, his perfect, ordered world was filled with nothing but doubt. Dou