"I am."
"And who is he? Why do you have a dead boy in your bedroom?"
"Jacob Beaufort," Jacob said, bowing slightly. He didn't answer the second question and I saw no reason to either. She may be my aunt but she had no authority over me.
Aunt Catherine expelled a humph. I suspected it was more than just an expression of her displeasure but I didn't particularly care to find out.
"I summoned you here to ask you about my mother," I said. I had a feeling polite chatter wasn't going to be on the cards with this woman.
"I thought as much. You may ask but I cannot guarantee you will receive an answer, particularly one to your liking."
Jacob glanced over her head at me. He raised a brow in question. I shrugged. I'd come this far, I might as well continue. Besides, any answer was better than not knowing.
I took a deep breath. "What can you tell me about my father?"
"Nothing."
I waited for her to say more but she didn't elaborate. "My mother never spoke to you about him? About a man other than her husband?"
She tossed her long hair over her shoulder. "No."
"But you knew about my birth?"
"Yes."
Jacob cleared his throat. "This would go a lot faster if you gave more than one word answers," he said.
Aunt Catherine lifted her chin and gave another humph. "Very well. I'll tell you what I know but it isn't much. About six months after her husband died, my sister wrote to inform us she was expecting a child. She refused to reveal who the father was but gave no reason for the refusal. She simply stated that she would raise the child on her own. Her late husband left her a small annuity for her to live on for some years, you see. Well, seven months after that, she wrote again and said you'd been born."
It all sounded so impersonal as if she were reading a newspaper account of the facts. "You didn't visit her before or after my birth?"
"Of course not!" She may have been somewhat hazy to look at but her eyes still managed to flash at me. "My husband was-is-a very important man in Bristol. We could not afford to have our reputation tarnished by your mother's foolishness."
I stiffened and blood rushed through my veins in a torrent. How dare this dragon speak about my mother like that? "Mama was never a fool, Aunt. As her sister I'd have thought you would know that. But then I'd have thought you'd be more sympathetic too. She was alone in London, without friends, and with one daughter already to care for. You couldn't have found it in your heart to visit her? Send her something? Offer her sympathy at the very least?"