In a rasping breath, she barely managed to whisper two words. “What happened?”
12
Bittersweet
What happened?
Vincent lowered her feet to the ground, sliding out of her while he did so, but kept one arm wrapped around her as he fastened his breeches.
At that moment, he never wanted to let her out of his sight again.
“Why would my mother give me poison?” She stepped back, causing his arm to drop away.
He had wanted this season to be a happy one for her. It was likely she hated her father, but she’d had hope for her mother. Staring at the broken glass spread at the other end of the room, he scrubbed one hand down his face.
“Your mother…” He couldn’t just blurt it out. Not in here. Not with the sweet sickly smell of arsenic hovering in the air.
Not giving her a chance to resist, he scooped her up and carried her into the master’s chamber.
His chamber.
Their chamber.
Her concerned look revealed that she sensed his news was not going to be good. He did not want to tell her this. After lowering her to the bed, he climbed up and gathered her against him, wanting more than anything to protect her from the truth he must impart, holding her head against his heart.
“Your mother…” He swallowed hard. “She has passed.” And because she would find out anyway, he would not hide her parents’ manner of death. “She poisoned both your father and herself. I saw the vial in her hand. It was then I realized…”
A gust of wind shook the window, but aside from the rattling of the windowpane, the room fell silent. Her head tucked into his chest, she did not speak or move. She simply absorbed the horror of his news.
“Arianne?” He was relieved to hear her voice, shaking though it was.
“Was with your mother in the end. She’s strong, like you. Calvin and Drake are bringing her and the governess behind me. I would have stayed with her myself but when I saw what they’d taken, and I realized it was the same vial you’d shown me…” He could not explain the terror he’d felt at the thought that he’d lost her.
And then he closed his eyes. “Lila, it was the same vial Keenen clutched in his hand in death.”
This information did not seem to surprise her. “My father forged the suicide note,” she murmured against him. Of course, she had discovered the certificate. The damned secret drawer.
“I didn’t want to believe he could take his own life.” But he was speaking of his own brother and this was not about him. “Love, your mother said she needed to stop him.”
She nodded beneath his chin. “She hated him, but she also loved him.” And then a sob tore through her. “We all did. It doesn’t make sense.” And then another sob. “I hated him, Pemberth. I hated him.”
Vincent wished he could take her pain. “I know, love. I know.” He stroked her hair. How had this slip of a woman come to mean so much to him?
“She gave me the draught for you.” At first, he wasn’t certain he heard right. “She told me to give it to you, that it would put you to sleep if you were too demanding of me.” She began trembling. “I hate them both, Pemberth. I hate them! I hate them.”
He felt helpless. All he could do was absorb her cries, her tears, while the storm within her subsided.
She’d fall silent, seemingly asleep, but then a tremor would run through her and she’d weep gently once again. Not until the sun crept over the horizon did exhaustion and worry finally have its way with both of them. Holding tightly to one another, they slept.
Her first thought,even before opening her eyes, was that her head hurt. The next was that she was not alone.
He came back.
And then the events that occurred at Bryony Manor roared into her memory. Could it all have been a nightmare? But no. It had not been.
Her mother had killed her father and then herself. Her mama.Oh, Mama!
Warm lips settled on her forehead. “You are awake?”
