Page 19 of The Stipulation
Something shifts then. The air between us warms.
“You weren’t just staff,” I state quietly.
“No.” She meets my eyes. “I wasn’t. I cared deeply about him.”
There’s no impropriety in her eyes. No scandal. Just loyalty.
“He trusted you,” I say.
“Yes.” The word is steady. Certain.
I swallow. “Did he ever talk to you about why he stayed away from me?”
Betty’s expression clouds. “At the beginning, he thought it would make things worse if he bulldozed in where he wasn’t wanted. He didn’t want to take you away from the only life youknew, and he believed your mother would poison you against him if he fought for access.”
“She told me I was conceived from an anonymous one-night stand.”
“I know.”
We both fall silent. Inside, applause breaks out for something, another speech perhaps. The sound feels obscene considering the occasion, but rich people do things differently.
“I didn’t come here for his money,” I blurt out suddenly.
“I know,” Betty replies immediately.
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough.”
Her certainty catches me off guard. “What do you mean?”
“At the service, you looked at the coffin, not the guest list.” She tilts her head slightly. “That you haven’t asked a single question about the estate today. And you’ve done your best to remain in the shadows. When the vicar spoke about legacy, you didn’t look proud. You looked sad.”
My throat tightens. “He was my father,” I whisper. “I didn’t know him, but he was still my father.”
Betty’s eyes shine. “Yes,” she says. “He was. You were always in his heart.”
A long moment passes. Then she clears her throat gently. “If I may say something slightly forward?”
“Please.”
“You don’t have to navigate this thing alone.”
I study her carefully. “Are you offering to help me?”
“I’m offering,” she says with a quiet firmness. “To tell you the truth about things. About him. About what’s real and what isn’t.”
The wind bites at my fingers. I barely notice. “Why?”
She hesitates only for a second. “Because I cared about him,” she says. “And because I think he would have wanted someone on your side.”
Emotion rises fast and unexpectedly. I blink it back. “And are you?”
“On your side?”
“Really?”
Her answer doesn’t waver. “Yes.”
