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Chapter 20

Family Secrets

The day Steve Rogers left Falsworth Manor,
Oxford, England

Gwen ignored the knock, hoping Emily would answer it. Then a second knock came.

"Em!" Gwen shouted through a mouthful of toothpaste. No answer—probably wearing her headphones. At the third knock, Gwen rinsed her mouth and cinched her bathrobe tight and headed for the door, grumbling. She was late for class as it was, she didn't need this just now. She opened the door, her face registering annoyance, but the look quickly disappeared upon seeing who the caller was.

"…Lady Falsworth!" she said, wiping toothpaste from her cheek. "I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting. I was just—"

"That's perfectly all right, Miss Fellows. It's nice to see you again. Is Emily in?"

"She is. Come in, please. I'll just run get her."

After seating Lady Jacqueline Falsworth in the front room, Gwen ran to Emily's room, not bothering to knock. "Em," she whispered, pulling back the headphones. "It's your Gran, she's here."

"What? You mean here, now?"

"Yes! She's out in the front room," Gwen said, cracking the door open. Emily peaked out.

"Oh my God," she breathed, seeing the Grand Dame sitting there on the settee. A thrill of panic ran through the young woman's heart. "The place is an absolute sty, Gwen! How could you let her in?"

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Right, I should have kept her out on the stoop."

"You've got to come with me."

"I can't! I'm way late. If I miss another of Professor Fenton's lectures, I'll be absolutely lost."

"Please Gwen," Emily said, stealing another look. "I can't do it alone."

"Shame on you. It's just your dear old Granny. She's lovely."

"You would think so. She likes you."

"Get out there," Gwen said, pulling items of clothing from the closet and throwing them at her. "Remember; she's your sweet, dear old Gran, who loves you very much…and also happens to be paying the rent on this place. Do you want to move back to that fleabag on Chelsea Street? Now hurry!"

A minute later, Emily Falsworth stepped into the front room.

"Gran!" she said, embracing the old woman, stooping so that she did not have to get up from the chair. Emily was shocked at how much thinner and more frail Jacqueline seemed than the last time she had seen her.

"Hello child," Jackie said, kissing her cheek. "You look well. Your hair is a bit shorter, isn't it? It suits you."

Emily nodded and sat across from Jackie. "What are you doing here, Gran? I mean, it's lovely seeing you, of course, but shouldn't you be back at the Manor, getting ready for your party? Oh—happy Birthday, by the way. You did get my card, didn't you?" Emily said, rambling with the nervousness her grandmother always instilled in her.

"Yes, I received it. I was sorry to read that you were unable to come."

"Well, I have classes today," Emily said, her blushing cheeks a dead giveaway. The Grand Dame could smell a lie like a hound could scent a fox. Gwen came through the door, bringing a tray of tea and biscuits, and Emily said a silent prayer of thanks.

"Here you go ladies," Gwen said, setting the tray on the small table. "Sorry to run, but I'm off to class. Wonderful seeing you again, Lady Falsworth."

"Miss Fellows, I've told you about that 'Lady Falsworth' nonsense. Call me Jacqueline, or granny, or anything you like. But not Lady, please."

"Yes ma'am, I'll try. Take care now," she said, dashing out the door.

"Lovely girl," Jackie said, pouring the tea. She handed a cup to Emily. "How thoughtful she is."

Emily felt the sting of rebuke. "Yes, she's a great girl. Sorry about the mess, I was just about to clean when you came. It's not always this bad."

"It's fine. I was young once myself, believe it or not. Keeping a tidy house was the least of my concerns. Tell me, how are your studies coming?"

"Good. The workload's a bit tougher in the graduate program, but I'm managing."

"And are you still intent on becoming a teacher?"

"Yes Gran," Emily said, steeling herself. "I want to teach, hopefully become a professor someday. It's an honorable profession."

"Of course it is. It's just that you always wanted to be a doctor."

"Well, I changed my mind. Medicine just wasn't for me. I'm sorry if I disappointed you."

"You haven't. I just don't want you to disappoint yourself," Jackie said, sipping her tea. "It's all right to change your mind, so long as you do so for the right reasons. I'd hate to think you left medical school because you didn't believe you were up to it. Don't ever sell yourself short, Emily. You can do anything you put your mind to."

"I know. I'm a Falsworth. Doer's of great things."

"You say that with some derision," Jackie said, setting her cup down. "Are you ashamed of your family name?"

"No Gran, never. A bit daunted, maybe. Lords and Ladies, Prime Ministers and generals. Not to mention Superheroes. I just don't have any of that in me. I know I've been a disappointment to you, but I can't be something I'm not. I'm not like you. I'm not…great."

Jackie took Emily's hand. "You've never been a disappointment to me, you never could be. But you are mistaken. There is greatness in you."

"Gran, I know you mean well, but you're wrong. After the accident, after mum and dad and Will died, I could feel all that weight on me, the expectations, the attention. But I'm not Will. He was the great one, the athlete, the scholar. The one everybody flocked to. He was the doer. But that just isn't me."

Jackie bowed her head. "If I ever made you feel less than appreciated, less than loved, then I beg you to forgive me. I am a stubborn, willful old fool, who forgets to tell the ones she loves how much they mean to her. And I do love you."

Emily saw tears in the old woman's eyes. She knelt, handing her a tissue. "I love you, too. You've been so good to me, done so much for me. I confess…I am little frightened of you, but I do love you."

"Frightened? Of me? Whatever in the world for?"

Emily laughed. "That look you just gave me, for starters. There isn't a Sergeant-Major in the whole British Army who can give a disapproving stare like you."

Jackie's expression softened into a slight smile at that. Quietly, she laughed. "I'm a snarling old bulldog sometimes, it's true. But don't be fooled by my bark. There's precious little bite in me—not for those I love."

"I know," Emily said, taking her seat again. "But you still haven't told me why you're here and not at the party?"

"I've canceled it. I wanted to be here with you, with family. Oh, the others mean well. Great-great nieces and nephews, distant children of distant cousins. Family in name. I'm a curiosity to them, a figurehead. Then there are the ones I catch eyeing the Manor when they think I'm not looking…as if I would ever let her fall into such hands. I should donate her to the National Trust before I ever let such a thing as that happen. No, you are my true family."

"And very proud to be."

Jackie smiled, a little color coming to her cheeks. "I'm glad you feel that way. I hope it will not change. You are part of me, Emily, a child from my own blood. I've come here today to tell you the truth about your family. What do you know of your grandfather?"

"Granddad Kenneth? Well, he died so young. Dad told me what he remembered of him, of course. He told me that he was a good man, very kind."

Again, Jackie bowed her head and again the tears came. She blotted her eyes with the tissue. "How that pleases me. He was a good man. He loved me so."

There was a faraway look in her eyes, a distant pain, which time could not sooth. After a moment, Jackie continued.

"Kenneth Hemming was a decent and hardworking man. Those are no small things, Emily. I never once heard him utter a harsh word, or speak in anger, though God knows he had cause. People were not kind to him, being the son of our groundskeeper. Never mind that Ken served with distinction during the war, a decorated lieutenant. I committed an unpardonable sin, you see. I married beneath my station. 'Society' disapproved."

"Yes," Emily said, hearing the contempt in her grandmother's voice. "I imagine it wasn't easy, especially in those days. People can be so cruel."

"The cruelty to me, I could take. But the cruelty to Ken wounded me. The whispers, the laughter after we left a room…if it wounded him, he bore it in silence, for the love of me. I…loved him too, in my own way. He became so dear to my heart. The ten years we spent together are bittersweet to me now. I only wish that I could have loved him as truly as he loved me. But my heart belonged to another. Ken knew this, knew that I loved another, yet he married me anyway, to save me from scandal."

"Scandal?"

"Yes. In those days, it was ruinous for a woman—especially a titled woman of the so-called 'higher class'…to have a child out of wedlock."

Emily was beyond shocked. "Was…was he not the father?"

"No. The father of my unborn child was an American, a man I served with during the war."

"But, you were a member of the Invaders. Do you mean he was also an Invader—and an American?"

Jacqueline nodded. Emily sat in silence, as the surprising truth dawned. "My grandfather was actually…Captain America?"

"The world knows him as Captain America. You know his true name. Steven Rogers."

Emily set her tea down, nearly spilling it. "My God. All those times I've met Steve…I think I suspected who he really was, but not what he meant to you." Emily looked to her grandmother, pain showing in her eyes. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"I didn't know how." Jackie's voice trembled with sorrow as she spoke. Emily had never seen the Grand Dame so frail, so uncertain. It broke her heart. A long moment passed before Jackie regained her composure.

"It was a secret I had kept for almost seventy years. After so long a time, a person begins to believe the very fiction they created. After Kenneth passed away in fifty-five, it was only I who knew the truth. I planned to take that truth to my grave, long though it's been coming. My curse, I suppose. Don't wish for a long life, Emily. Too many years is worse than too few, believe me."

"Did my father know the truth? Did he know who his real father was?"

"No," Jackie said. "You are the first I've told, since that winter's night, when I told Ken. He was just home from France, having been wounded. He knew something was wrong with me. We had grown up together, you see, and he knew me so well. I shouldn't have turned to him. I knew he was in love with me. But I desperately needed a friend, and there he was. Ken knew I was the Invader called Spitfire, he knew of my love for Steven and how devastated I was over his death…but it was only when I told him of my baby that he understood the depth of my anguish. He offered to marry me. I tried to say no, but he insisted, for my sake, and for the sake of my unborn child. There were options, even then, for a woman in my position. But I wouldn't consider them. How could I? This was Steven's child, a part of him, growing inside me. The last of him left me on this earth…"

Jackie dropped her head in her hands, her shoulders wracked by her sobbing. Emily wrapped her arms around Jackie's bent form. The emotional strain had taken its toll on Jackie, and her already frail features looked drawn and weary.

"Gran, please, you should rest," Emily said.

"No. I want to go on," Jackie said, rallying her strength. She sat up straighter and dried her eyes. "I want you to know everything. You must have questions. What can I tell you?"

"Tell me about…him. My grandfather."

A smile came to Jackie's face. "You've heard the saying: 'no great man is ever a good man'? Rubbish. Steven Rogers is both very good and very great. He is honest, true, and strong…and he was the love of my life."

"How did you meet?"

"In the moonlight, where all young lovers should meet. It was a Friday evening, April fifth, on the grounds of the manor, more than seventy years ago, and I remember it like it was yesterday. The war was on, the Blitz in full force, and father was working to assemble a team of special agents to fight for the Allied cause. There was talk that Hitler was organizing his own such forces. This was the early days of the new age of wonders we now take for granted, the age of the superhuman. The Yanks were sending over their new agent to lead the fight, and I was anxious to meet him. Everywhere you turned, people were talking about this amazing soldier, Captain America. I had just recently gained my own powers some weeks before. Despite fathers objections, I was determined to join the fight.

"Finally, the night came, the first meeting of the mighty Invaders, only, I did not meet Captain America that night. I met Steven. Had you asked me if I believed in such a thing as 'love at first sight', I would have scoffed…but I would have been wrong, for I loved him from the first moment I saw him. Oh, I suppose it was more infatuation at the start. I had never seen a more handsome man. He swept me away, filling my poor head with the most decadent thoughts."

Jackie paused, spying the blush on Emily's cheeks. "I embarrass you. Is it really so hard believing I was once young and in love?"

"No, truly. I just..." Emily faltered. It was pointless trying to dodge the truth; no lie would escape Jacqueline's notice. "I suppose I'm envious. How do you know when it's love, Gran?"

"If you have to question it, you already have your answer. Have you never been in love?"

"I thought I had. Trevor, you met him last spring. We dated for two years, but after a while, we seemed to drift apart. I just didn't love him. I wonder if I'll ever feel what you felt."

Jackie took Emily's hand. "You will, I promise. And when you do, you will know why God put people on this earth. To love one another."

Reaching into her purse, Jackie took out a small framed photograph, and handed it to Emily. It was a black and white photo of Jackie, young and beautiful, wearing a stylish outfit. Standing next to her was a tall, handsome man in the dress uniform of an American soldier, captain's bars on his lapels. Steve Rogers, the grandfather she never knew. He and Jackie were on the steps of the manor, a more dashing couple Emily had never seen.

"You're beautiful. Both of you."

"We were in love. This was the last photo we took together, before he was…lost. "

"I don't know how you dealt with it all," Emily said. "His death, the baby…it must have been awful."

"It nearly broke me. So finally, I relented, and told Kenneth I would marry him. It was an escape from the grief crushing my heart. I was able to have my baby, free of the scandal that otherwise would have hindered his future. Time passed and life went on. I almost forgot the truth myself, until that day, fourteen years ago, when Steven was found."

"I remember," Emily said, still looking at the photograph in her hand. "I was just a girl. I remember dad explaining it to me, or trying to, anyway. I could never quite believe my granny was once a superhero—no matter how many times he showed me the photos. I remember watching a video, old newsreels of Spitfire, flying across the London skyline. I thought he was daft, telling me it was really you," Emily said, laughing. After a few seconds, The laughter dwindled, and her expression grew serious again. "It must have been an incredible shock, learning Steve was alive. What did you feel when you heard the news?"

"How can I describe it? I was overjoyed, of course. I was also terrified. I was angry, sad, elated…it was all too much. When the call finally came, when I heard his voice over the phone, I almost collapsed. It was his voice. Even after all those years, I knew that voice. He wanted to see me. I worried myself sick. I almost didn't want to see him. I had grown so old. The thought of him still young and beautiful, seeing my wrinkled face. Vanity, I know. But mostly, I dreaded telling him the truth. When he finally walked through those doors…I couldn't tell him. How could I tell the man I loved that, while he spent decades frozen in a deathless slumber, I bore his son? How do you tell a man that he has missed his own life? So I said nothing. Your father died just months later, having never known the truth. How can any of you ever forgive me?" Jackie said, weeping once again. Emily knelt, taking her hand.

"There is nothing to forgive, Gran. Nothing. You were in an impossible spot. You made the best choices you could out of a bad lot. I've always admired you. For your strength, your courage, your grace. But now? I'm in awe of you. You are the greatest lady I know. There is nothing to forgive."

Emily embraced Jacqueline again. For a long time, the two Falsworth women held one another. After a while, Emily pulled back, a question on her face. "But Gran, why are you telling me now? After all this time?"

"Because something is wrong with Steven. He is not well."

"What is it?"

"I don't know. He wouldn't tell me. We were visiting yesterday, celebrating our birthdays—we were both born on October the tenth, did you know that?"

"Yes Gran," Emily said, feeling ashamed that she had avoided the celebration.

"He never spoke of it, but there's a problem, I know," Jackie said, pausing a moment to catch her breath. "Call it a sixth sense, call it intuition…call it a woman knowing the man she has loved for most of her life. Something is wrong with Steven. That is why I've come here today. The time for secrets has ended."

"I understand."

"There's more, something about me. I haven't been well myself. My heart has been weak for some time now, but it's getting worse—which is why it had to be now."

Jacqueline's face grew taut, and her complexion, always so fair, was almost white. Her breathing became labored as she continued to speak.

"The only thing left for me to do is to tell Steven, and pray he will forgive me. You are the only family he has left on this earth. Would you be willing to meet him, your grandfather, both knowing the truth for the first time?"

"Of course I would."

"That's good," Jackie said, slumping back in the chair. "You...you will find Trilby parked in front of your flat. Call for him, Emily," Jackie said, closing her eyes. "Tell him to bring my medicine…"

Lady Jacqueline Falsworth passed out.