“What could be so terrible as to make you break with your family?” She paused to run scenarios through her mind, but only one occurred to her. “Was she with child before she married?”
Lady Hudsyn’s body jerked visibly.
So that is it. Mama conceived me out of wedlock. Shocking, to be sure. But shouldn’t all have been forgotten and forgiven once she married my papa?
“All I can tell you is that I did what my father instructed me to do—for the good of this family.”
“I don’t understand your way of thinking, Aunt. But I respect that you did what you thought was right at the time. All I am asking is that you put the past behind you now. Henry and I are a new generation, and we are determined to stay friends, no matter what others say about it.”
Lady Hudsyn strode to the table. “When will you learn that reputation is everything, child? One must make sacrifices to keep one’s good name intact.” She put her hands on her hips. “But I see now, you are too far removed from our world to understand. You aren’t committed to being part of this family. You only want to blow in with the wind occasionally and stir up a storm.” She flung out her arm as if to illustrate Ottilie’s destructiveness. “Well, I’m afraid you cannot have it both ways. Henry is still young and far too much of a romantic thinker. It is my duty to protect his position and reputation in high society, and if you truly love him, you will see it as your duty too. You are either Henry’s cousin, and you will behave as such, or you are not. Only you can decide.”
Ottilie’s heart constricted. Her aunt’s words stung. Was there no end to betrayal? She’d felt secure and embraced by a loving family once; now, she realized it had all been an illusion. Her mama’s love had been unconditional, but to everyone else, she was disposable and inconvenient.
“Excuse me, my lady.” Benson appeared in the doorway. “There is a Mrs. Wilson here to see Miss Hamilton.”
Thank the Lord!Mrs. Wilson had arrived to save her like Dante’s Beatrice sent from Heaven.
“Who?” Lady Hudsyn snapped. “We don’t know a Mrs. Wilson. Tell her to leave her card.”
“She’s my chaperone”—Ottilie kept her expression stony—“here to protect my reputation.” She turned back to Benson. “Please tell Mrs. Wilson to wait while I collect my cape and gloves. I’ll be out for the day.” She strode toward the dining room exit.
“Where are you going?” Lady Hudsyn demanded.
Ottilie stopped, her fists clenched at her sides. “Instead of asking me where I am going, why don’t you ask yourself where your son is and why he has been absent from home for so long?”
Her aunt’s face hardened, but Ottilie could see the hurt behind her mask. Her words aimed to sting, and they’d succeeded, but that did nothing to ease Ottilie’s pain.
*
The sugarcane forestgrew thick, despite repeated ransacking by starving soldiers and provided a comfortable grassy home for mating cicadas whose satisfied hum filled the muggy night air.
“Listen to ’em.” Brandt chuckled as they rode past the fields down the long stretch of dusty road leading to Wardell’s plantation. “Ain’t they the happy little critters?”
They passed the deserted sugar mill and stopped next to the rundown slave quarters to listen for signs of life. Hearing nothing, they urged their horses to continue their lazy walk down the barren path.
“You think them bags of gold are still in that old well behind the house?” Brandt said as Wardell’s once palatial home came into view.
“Only one way to find out.” Jack spurred his horse into a trot, eager to get what he came for and get out.
A gunshot cracked through the darkness and shattered the peacefulness of the night. Jack’s mustang whinnied and reared on its hind legs.
“Are you hit?” Brandt rode up beside him, revolver in hand.
“Nope.” Jack withdrew his pistol from its holster.
“What about your horse?”
“He’s okay. Only spooked.” Jack patted his gelding’s neck.
“See him?” Brandt peered into the darkness.
A shadowy figure stumbled through the overgrown grass toward them.
“I see him.”
Brandt pointed his revolver at the figure. “Come any closer an’ you’re a dead man walking.”
“Get the hell off my land, or I’ll blow your heads off.”
