**The Illusion of Deception**
Working at the Royal College of Music, Emily had never been interested in anything but music. It had been her life since childhoodher mother and the piano. At twenty-eight, she was unmarried, having dated a colleague before their paths divergedtoo complicated when both were talented and lost in their own worlds.
For the past three months, though, shed been seeing James, a solicitor. Theyd met by chance in a café near the college. She hadnt wanted to go homeher mother had recently passed, leaving the house silent and empty.
«You look awfully sad,» James had said, approaching her as he sipped his coffee. «My names James. And yours?»
She was beautiful, distantintriguing enough to strike up a conversation.
«Emily,» she replied softly, offering a faint smile.
Since then, theyd grown closer. James often stayed over and had even proposed, but she hesitated.
«I cant say yes yet, James. My mothers only just gone.»
Her mother had raised her alone. Emily had never known her fatherwho he was, where hed gone. Shed never asked, sensing it was a painful subject. And now, with her mother gone, the weight of grief and loneliness pressed on her. She even wonderedshould she try to find him?
«I dont even know how to feel about it,» she confessed to James. «Ive never met him. What if he doesnt want to see me?»
Emily had lived with her mother, oblivious to practical mattersbills, paperwork, all handled by her mother while she lost herself in music. Her mother had warned her.
«Emily, you must learn to manage things. What will you do when Im gone? Youre too dreamylife will be hard for you.»
«You handle everything so well, Mum. Why should I bother?» shed laugh.
But life was cruel and unpredictable. It had taken her mother suddenlyan illness that burned too fast. The doctors could only shrug.
«It was too late when she came to us.»
«But she never complained!» Emily wept.
«Perhaps she was protecting you,» the doctor said gently. «But the body always gives signs. There must have been something.»
James was sharp. The first time he visited her flat, hed been taken abackexpensive paintings lined the walls, though Emily paid them no mind. Shed grown up with them. But James knew their worth.
In the evenings, Emily practised for her upcoming recitals while James listenedor pretended to. Hed long since realised there was more to gain here. He rifled through her mothers documents, letters. Her only relative was an aunt, Margaret, who lived in the Highlands. So he pushed for marriage, knowing Emily was the sole heir.
It frustrated him that she kept refusing. She barely knew him, and something in her hesitatedwas he really the one? But James persisted, waiting, pressing. He knew she wanted to find her father.
One evening, he arrived with news.
«Weve got guests tonight. Lets stop by the shop for champagne.»
«Guests? Who?»
«I found your father.»
«Jamesreally? Where? I always thought he lived far awayanother country, even.»
«Hes right here in London.»
Half an hour later, the doorbell rang. James answered, and Emily saw a tall, dark-haired man.
«My girl,» he exclaimed, pulling her into an embrace. «Ive never seen you before. Youre beautiful. Robert Wilsonthats my name.»
Emilys middle name was indeed Roberta.
«Your mother and I parted ways, but she never told me she was pregnant,» Robert said.
Seizing the moment, James interjected, «Robert, since things have turned out so well, may I ask for Emilys hand?»
Still reeling, Emily froze.
«If James loves you, Ive no objection,» Robert smiled. «You have my blessingjust send the wedding invite.»
From then on, Robert became a regular visitor. Yet Emily learned little about his past with her motherjust that it had been brief.
She sent an invitation to Aunt Margaret and her husband. They arrived early, determined to help with preparations.
One evening, the doorbell rang. Emily opened it, delighted.
«We barely made it!» Margaret said. «The train was chaos.»
James left soon after, letting Emily catch up with her family. Over tea, she admitted, «Aunt Margaret, I found my fatherwell, James did.»
«Whats his name?»
«Robert Wilson my middle names Roberta.»
Margaret exchanged a glance with her husband. «Trouble, Alex,» she murmured. He nodded grimly.
«What trouble?» Emily asked.
«Your fathers name isnt Robert. Its JohnJohn Edward Harris. Your birth certificate lists no father. Your mother invented the middle name. Emily, I know everythingshe made me swear never to tell. Your father is John Harris, the dean of your conservatoire.»
«John Harris? Thats impossible! He was my music professor. Then who is Robert?»
«Thats what we need to ask James. Why this charade? Andhave you claimed your inheritance? Its been nearly six months since your mother passed.»
«Not yet. Ill see the solicitor soon but what inheritance? Just the flat, surely»
«Good heavens, Emily. Youre so naïve. Our parents werent poor. Your mother had a sizable account, those paintings are worth a fortune. When our parents died, they split everything between us. Youre not some penniless orphan. And Alex and Iweve no children. Youll inherit from us too.»
She called off the wedding.
Emily had been blind to it all. Now, with Margarets words ringing in her ears, she wonderedwhy had James been in such a hurry?
«Aunt Margaret, does John know about me?»
«No. His mothers to blame. She arranged what she thought was a better match for him and tore your parents apart. When your mother and John fought, she didnt know she was pregnant. John married his mothers choicea woman who lied about carrying his child. They divorced later. He loved your mother, but when he saw her with a child, he assumed shed moved on. She never told him. As for Robertwell deal with James tomorrow.»
«John handed me my diploma,» Emily whispered. «He never knew I was his daughter.»
That evening, James got a nasty surprise. Emily cancelled the wedding, even packed his things. With Margaret and Alex there, he didnt dare arguehe knew hed been caught. Robert vanished without a trace.
«I feel relieved,» Emily admitted. «Something about James never sat right.»
The next evening, Emily returned from work to more news.
«Weve a guest tonight,» Margaret said.
«Who now?» Emily asked warily.
«Youll see.»
The doorbell rang. Margaret answered, leading in none other than John Harris.
«My God,» he breathed, staring at Emily. «You look just like me. I had no idea you existed. Margarets news stunned me.»
They talked late into the night. Emily learned of her half-brothera soldier stationed abroad.
«Only you followed in my footsteps,» John said warmly. «Youre so talented. My son never cared for musicbut you, youre a natural.»
Emily laughed. «I always wondered where I got my love for it. Everyone else in the familys an engineer!»
From then on, she and John grew close. He took her to her mothers grave, introduced her to his wife, Helena kind womanand later, to her brother when he visited on leave.
A year later, Emily married William, the son of Johns old friend. Hed fallen for her instantly, an economics professor at the university.
Margaret and Alex attended the wedding, pleased with Emilys choicesteady, reliable. Everything James had never been.
