All the teas and wine will never stop time. I have to protect my legacy at all costs. Lady Lydia and Katherine are worth all my strength. Even if it costs my life, they deserve to be protected.
Chapter 36
KATHERINE—A LONGFEVEREDDAWN
From the top of the steps, I hear footmen moving. I step into the corridor and see the doors of Anya House open. It’s dawn, well after first light, when Jahleel arrives.
He stayed out all night. I’m angry he sent no word of this to me. But I’m relieved to see him well.
I am a jealous person, but this is different. It’s barely been a month since he almost died. Not even a day since we loved in the secret room and he can’t return at a decent, non-worrying hour.
Illogical, perhaps crazed from sitting at my daughter’s bedside all night, I want to yell. I’m ready to pounce.
Before he can remove his gloves, his man, Mr. Steele, appears—the two converse.
The way Jaleel starts moving, fast and frantic, he’s been told about his daughter.
The cane bops along the floor. His pace quickens. Concerned about his balance, I almost descend to him.
No.
The goddess that I am, the value that I’ve reclaimed mean he must rise to me. I deserve no less.
His greatcoat flutters and falls to the treads. His boots hit the stairs. Somehow, the man who’s been gingerly approaching the steps flies up them.
He peers at me. His face is as white as a ghost. “Katherine? Is she …?”
The stink of cigars, rose water, and chrysanthemums hits me all at once—comfort, debauchery, and mourning.
Tears clog my throat as he pulls me into his arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think she’d get sick tonight.”
“You can’t plan for sickness. We fail to live if we try. But she’s been asking for you. She waited as long as she could.”
Bewilderment steals the remaining color from his cheeks. Tears pour. Jahleel releases me and barrels into Lydia’s room.
The door closes before I can get to the pull. My ears hear shouts of joy.
Outside my child’s room, the sound of Russian blessings echoes. My heart lifts as Lydia’s sweet voice booms. It’s strong, been getting stronger as her fever broke.
“Just a cold, Papen’ka,” she says. “Princess Grama took care of me. Katherine, too, but she said you’d be back soon. Why did you make her lie?”
Any thoughts of going into that room and sharing this moment fade.
I walk past the mirror, which keeps shaming me with truth. The frown on my jealous face is long. When do I stop paying for the past? When will I feel worthy of being Lydia’s mother?
My child lives. That’s all that’s important.
Scarlett gave her something to settle her stomach and stop her fever. Georgina made her sweet ginger tea.
But I held my little girl, through her shakes, calming her cries. Like I’ve always done, I gave her my comfort and pretended that when she calls me Katherine, it’s Russian formother.
I’ve told lies to this mirror that nothing else matters. Lydia doesn’t seem to be having a relapse of the blood sickness. But once a liar, always one.
“Papen’ka, I was so scared, but Katherine told me to calm and that she loves me. And Princess Grama prayed for me.”
“They do, my love.” That’s Jahleel’s somber voice. “I’m so glad they do.”
Servants move about me.
