* * *
Ivy entered the library and smiled at the assembled guests before seeking out her mother. Pulling a chair beside Diana, she leaned over and whispered, “Mother, before Aunt Tru gets here, there’s something I have to say.”
Diana glanced at the slightly flushed cheeks, the wild tangle of hair to which bits of twigs and leaves still clung. Ivy’s eyes, she noted, had the shiny look of fresh tears. But her smile was one of sheer happiness.
“You look like you used to look years ago when you went out climbing trees.” She sighed. Her lips curved down in the familiar disapproval. “You were such a tomboy.”
“Mother, I know I’ll never be quite what you’d hoped for. But despite the fact that I’m a disappointment to you, I want you to know that I love you very much.”
Diana’s mouth opened, then closed. Tears sprang to her eyes. She blinked, swallowed. “You love me?” Her lips quivered. “After all we’ve been through?”
Ivy nodded.
“Those are hard words to say.” She struggled for composure. “What else did you just say? Not what I’d hoped for?” A tear trickled from the corner of her eye, and she wiped it with a finger, smearing her eye makeup. “How can you even think that? All I’d ever wanted was a little girl. A perfect little girl. And you don’t disappoint me. You never did. It’s just that I’ve always wanted so much for you. I want you to have everything.”
“But I’ve always had everything I wanted. I loved growing up here. I had you and Dad. And I have my art. And now I have...”
They both looked up as Gertrude walked briskly into the room. Her gaze swept the familiar faces, before she sat down in a comfortable wingback chair near the fireplace.
The butler closed the double doors, then stood in front of them with his arms crossed firmly over his chest. No one was going to leave this room, unless they walked over him.
“I asked you here because I have some information that I want to share with all of you. I have just been given a wonderful gift.”
She glanced over at Ivy, and the young woman gave her a wide smile.
“As you are aware, I was quite a rebellious child. My father never knew quite what to do with me. Of course, looking back, I know that he should have been willing to let me go.” Her voice lowered. “I wonder what my life would have been if he had done so.” She looked up and caught Judge Tisdale’s troubled gaze. “But the old never want to let the young go out on their own, do they? We’re always so afraid they’ll make a mistake. But that’s what life is about, after all. Learning from our mistakes.”
She sighed. “Last night, Judge Tisdale mentioned that I quit college to work for a young senator. And he told you that my father, when he heard, flew into a rage and dragged me home to shake some sense into me.” She clasped her hands together in her lap. “That’s only the beginning of the story. What my father discovered was that I was in love with the young senator, and carrying his child.”
Diana gasped. Judge Tisdale sat up very straight. Darren was staring at his prim, maiden aunt as if he’d never really seen her before.
“My father was humiliated. He had no one to turn to for calm advice. He flew into a wild rage. He kept me confined to the house like a prisoner. I was not allowed to communicate with my love. When my time came, he arranged for our family doctor to come to the house to deliver the baby. And when I awoke afterward, my father told me the baby had died.” Gertrude’s voice cracked. “I smuggled out a note through an elderly maid who was sympathetic. Two weeks later, I heard the news about the senator’s death in Central Park. Six weeks later I left for Europe, where I immersed myself in studies at the university for the next four years.”
There was no sound in the room, except the crackling of the logs in the fire.
“Today I have been given some documents which prove that my baby didn’t die. My father arranged that the baby be adopted by the family who lived on our estate as caretakers. The Murdock family.”
Diana’s hand flew to her mouth. She started to rise, but Ivy touched her arm. “Please, Mother. Let her finish.”
The old woman’s voice trembled. “My life has been molded around one painful episode in my youth. Though the sharp pain has dulled, the scar tissue remains. I know I’m a different person than I surely would have been, if I had married my love and raised our son. But look at the lives I’ve touched because of that one sad event. I had the chance to raise a little sister. I’ve kept Caine and Darren together. And after a lifetime, I discover a granddaughter. I feel truly blessed.”
Gertrude’s eyes clouded as she met Diana’s questioning stare. “Yes, Diana. Your husband, William, was my son. And I never knew.”
“Neither did he,” Diana said softly. “Shortly before his death, he found the adoption papers in the safe, along with some old family papers. But when he approached Judge Tisdale about locating his real parents, the judge said the papers had been sealed at the time of the adoption.”
“He knew he was adopted?” Ivy asked.
“His family never told him. He only discovered it when he was looking for some insurance papers in the safe. He said it didn’t matter,” her mother said softly. “The Murdocks had been the only family he had ever known. He loved them.”
Gertrude’s voice grew stronger. “A part of me is angry that I was denied the chance to love my son. But the best part of this news is that I now have a granddaughter. Ivy.” Gertrude’s eyes glowed as she looked at the young woman she had always loved.
Stunned at the impact of her words, Diana turned to Ivy. “You knew of this?”
Ivy nodded. Her eyes glistened with tears of happiness. “I just learned of it before I came in here. Aunt Tru wanted to break the news to me upstairs before she faced everyone else.” Ivy caught her mother’s hand. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
Diana blinked back tears of her own. With a catch in her voice, she whispered, “Yes. I know how much you’ve always loved Gertrude and this old place. Oh, Ivy, your father would have been so proud.”
Judge Tisdale cleared his throat. “Gertrude, there’s something you should know.”
Everyone turned to him. “My grandson came to me with the news of what he had done.”
Stunned, the guests grew very quiet as everyone turned to stare at the young lawyer.
“Then it was you, David, who discovered all this?”
As he nodded his head, Gertrude said, “I thought so. What made you decide to return the check?”
“When Diana Murdock came seeking her late husband’s birth records, I felt so sorry for her. The answers she sought were there at my fingertips, and I was forbidden to read them. In a moment of weakness, I decided to pursue it further.” His voice dropped to nearly a whisper. “But once I’d discovered the truth, an idea began to form.” The young man’s voice was choked with emotion. “I realize now how much I’ve abused my privilege as a lawyer. Those papers have been in our family firm for years. And I was willing to violate your privacy, Miss St. Martin, for the sake of money. I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I kept that check.”
“And you, Jacob?” Gertrude asked the old man. “Did you know about my baby, too?”
He shook his head. “No, Gertrude. I was just a young lawyer then. The judge who handled the adoption of your baby had the papers sealed. I would never have violated the Murdock right to privacy. And I’m glad I didn’t know. It would have been a terrible dilemma, knowing the truth, feeling about you the way I do.”
“Would you have had the courage to keep their secret, I wonder? Or would you have given in to the temptation to tell me the truth?”
The old man was solemn. “I’m glad I never had to face that decision. My integrity was never put to the test as David’s was.”
Gertrude turned to the butler, who looked dazed at the news he had just heard.
“Chester bring some champagne and glasses.” To her guests, she said, “I know you have a long way to travel today. But I want you to share in a toast to my newly
discovered granddaughter.”
Darren came forward to give Ivy a hug. “Does this mean Caine and I won’t be her heirs anymore?”
Ivy chuckled. “You’re stuck being part of this family forever.”
He gave her a wicked grin. “Well, since we’re all family now, how about loaning me some money?”
“I still don’t have any,” Ivy said with a laugh.
“Well, I know where you can get as much as you want,” Darren said, glancing at a beaming Gertrude.
“Forget it. Nothing’s changed, except that my good friend is now my grandmother.”
As he walked past Ivy, David avoided her eyes as he addressed Gertrude. “We’ll be going now, Miss St. Martin.”
“Not until you join us in a drink, David.” Gertrude’s voice lowered. “What you did was a terrible thing. But I’m grateful for the information you gave me. And I’m especially glad that you decided to own up to your guilt.”
Her eyes met his grandfather’s. “It’s always difficult to know when the young should be given the responsibility of their own lives. I suppose the deciding factor is when they learn to make difficult choices, regardless of the consequences.”
Jacob Tisdale dropped an arm around his grandson’s shoulders. “On the ride home, I’d like to talk about retiring. I need some time to relax.” As David began to protest, he added, “I’ve earned that right. Don’t argue with me, boy.”
David shot Gertrude a grateful look before turning to his grandfather. “Whatever you say.”
As Chester passed the champagne, Gertrude lifted her glass. “To truth, no matter how painful.” Her eyes misted. “And to my granddaughter, Ivy, who makes me so very proud.”
They touched glasses. The old woman’s voice grew stronger, as she stared pointedly at Caine and Ivy. “And to love. Without it, there would be no future generations, and thus, no future at all.”
Solemnly they drank.