After a disturbed night’s sleep in the same mediocre inn they’d used on the way there, she sat in the coach framing her question. Until she realized she’d never get it exactly right. So she came out with it. “Who was my father?” He turned his head sharply to stare at her, eyes wide and very, very green. “What?” “You didn’t stay with me when Julius was at the house. That meant you talked with him, and he had news that you didn’t tell me. I know it could be other things, but I don’t believe so. It was about my father, wasn’t it?” True, Julius could have discussed all manner of things, but during this journey she’d caught Max looking at her and then away when she met his gaze. And staring at her speculatively. He knew. All her instincts told her. “Who is he?” she insisted. He kept her gaze this time and took a deep breath. “Julius discovered evidence that points to the result.
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