Chapter 23
W hen they arrived back at the duke’s manor, it took almost little to no convincing Lavinia to escort her back to their home in London. She claimed that she was feeling nostalgic, but in truth, she did not wish to have either of them under the same roof as the duke until Cordelia could sort out her feelings. Besides, with how much her mother had been grieving lately, there was no promise that she would not attack the duke herself. The whole ride from their manor back to their home, Cordelia said not a single word. She merely peered out of the carriage window and let the scenery attempt to calm her mind. She felt as if she were grasping at straws or looking for evidence in her memory that might not even exist.
Some part of her knew that it was the truth the moment Dorian had told her. But why? Why had she not outright refused him? If somebody had said such slander against Dorian himself, she would not have stood for it and instantly rebuked the person. But… maybe it was the way that he had been speaking to her that was so raw and real… but then again… perhaps she knew that there was something off about her father.
Cordelia mourned her father, of course, she did, but not to the same extent that her mother had.
Until now, she had just assumed that it was because her mother had lost the love of her life, and Lavinia simply was capable of feeling things more deeply than Cordelia must have been herself. And yet, that was not right either.
“Are you going to be so silent the whole time? My head is pounding. You did not bring me anything to drink, not even a hint of wine with breakfast, and now you are leaving me alone with my thoughts? Have some mercy on your poor mother,” Lavinia whined, rubbing at her temples as she spoke.
At first, Cordelia was going to rise to the bait. She could have pulled a random topic from out of nowhere that would have appeased her mother but then when she found out the truth, she would only be mad at Cordelia for waiting. They were presently in such a small space for her to share such volatile information. She did not wish to break her mother’s heart either.
“What is the matter with you? Has the cat got your tongue, daughter?” Lavinia asked as she crossed her arms over her chest like a petulant child.
Cordelia closed her eyes and focused on her breathing for a moment.
“Honestly, Cordi! Dispense with the dramatics!”
When Cordelia opened her eyes again, her mother was halfway to fuming. “I found out some information about Father that I do not think that you are going to like.”
Lavinia huffed. “Oh, is that all? I could have told you that already. Most of the things that man does vex me. He did leave me here–”
“All alone. I know, Mama.” Cordelia leaned forward, letting herself sway in time with the carriage. “I have learned that he did not take his own life after all.”
Now, she had her mother’s complete and utter attention. Lavinia seemed to sober instantly and was more the mother that Cordelia had known her to be.
“Do you remember the night that I got lost in the hedge mazes in the rain? I could not have been more than eight or so I believe. It was night, and I was wandering in the maze for hours…”
Lavinia nodded. “And you had nightmares for months after that.”
Cordelia was not going to dispute that or inform her that in truth, she had been afflicted with nightmares as a result of that night even to this day. “I always wondered how I had found my way back inside. There has been this gap in my memory from being terrified in the maze and then I remember being in a warm bath, and then in my bed.”
It was so strange to see Lavinia so still and quiet these days.
“All morning I have not been able to get the memories out of my head. I just keep thinking about it over and over again.”
“What did you find out about your father? Who has come forward with information?” Lavinia asked flatly.
“On that night, he died because someone pushed him, and he hit his head. It was done in defense of the woman that he was attempting to force himself upon,” Cordelia said quickly, fresh tears starting to swim again.
Lavinia scoffed and shook her head. “No, I do not pretend to know your motivation for such lies but–” and then Lavinia looked at her, really looked at her, saw the distress on her face and the unshed tears in her eyes and silenced herself.
“Recently… I have come to remember some parts of that night in the maze that I had been choosing to forget all of this time. It was not because of how scary the thunderstorm was, or at least it was not completely that, but it was because I saw Father with another woman. My governess with her bodice ripped and Father behind her… I was too young to understand what I was seeing. I did not know how to process it… Father had to let my governess go so that he could attend to me, and she ran…”
Lavinia’s eyes widened. It had been a topic of heated debate in their house as to why Cordelia’s governess had simply disappeared overnight. They had blamed her for why Cordelia had been out of bed in the first place. They thought that she had run away due to shame for her actions. Her father had claimed that.
Her mother switched over to where she was sitting, and pulled her into her arms, holding Cordelia tightly against her chest while she finally released everything that she had been keeping trapped inside of her chest. Every emotion that she had been attempting to repress since speaking to Rebecca seemed to overflow as she allowed herself to be held. She did not move until the carriage had stopped.
When the footman opened the carriage door, Lavinia squeezed Cordelia’s shoulder, gathered her skirts in a huff, and stomped off toward the front door.
“Mama? Mama, where are you going so quickly?” Cordelia called after her, hurrying to catch up.
“I need to speak with the housekeeper. There is not a single thing that has happened under this roof that she is not aware of. If your father was being sly, then she would have had to hide it from me,” Lavinia seethed through her teeth.
How long had it been since she had seen her mother in quite a tizzy like this one?
Up the stairs and through the house, Lavinia hunted until she could corner the poor housekeeper, the one that had been with them for nearly Cordelia’s entire life. The woman was working on changing the linens out in one of the many spare rooms.
“My lady! Your Grace! What an unexpected pleasure!”
Lavinia was having none of it. Her hands were firmly planted on her hips as she narrowed her eyes. “You and I have some talking to do, Agatha. Do we not?”
Agatha cast an almost panicked glance from her to Cordelia and back again. “Is something the matter, ma’am?”
“I should say so! I find out that my housekeeper has been keeping things from me about my husband. How many years have you served this family, Agatha? I know that I can be a handful but you are more than fairly compensated! What reason could you possibly have to keep such things from me?” Lavinia nearly shouted.
Cordelia knew that, since the duke had taken over the day-to-day affairs, nothing had been anything but fairly compensated, if not generously. At least Agatha had the decency to look embarrassed over it.
“I am not sure… that I know to what you are referring,” Agatha started, her voice far softer now.
“My husband is dead! You have no reason to defend him! I demand to know the truth!”
Cordelia wanted to assure her that they merely needed closure and confirmation. She wanted to tell her that that was all there was to the story but she was not certain what her mother was going to do after she learned more.
Agatha clearly was reluctant to speak.
“Please, we just need to put the pieces together, Agatha. Any information that you might have that could–”
“Tell me!” Lavinia yelled.
Cordelia whipped to the side, a default apology ready to roll from her lips about her mother’s behavior—but she was crying. Maybe it was the tears that moved Agatha to speak; it did not truly matter what the cause was because she started to tell them what had happened all of those years ago.
“I was grateful when the master of the house no longer came home,” she admitted softly, keeping a wary eye on the two of them. “I always pitied you, mistress, for the master was not a virtuous man.”
Lavinia staggered, a single tear falling as she slumped heavily onto the bed that Agatha had only half finished making and hung her head, but she did not stop Agatha from speaking.
“Please, go on,” Cordelia answered as she moved to take her mother’s hand supportively.
Agatha hesitated for only a moment longer before speaking. “The rate at which we had to hire and fire new maids here had been… high, as you are well aware, my lady. Those that were caught with him… those who were found unwed and with child as a result of his philandering… the lord attempted to hide it, of course, but you know how the staff can speak… the young petty women that were hired and would leave with heavy pockets…”
Cordelia was going to be sick.
“…with child?” Lavinia asked.
“Yes ma’am, I never wished to be the one to tell you… I am sorry, I know that it was not my place.”
Lavinia waved her hand dismissively as she stared hollowly forward. He had been operating behind their backs this whole time, pretending to be something that he simply was not. Every memory that she had ever had of her father was going to be forever tainted now.
“I cannot believe that I had been so blind. I feel like such a fool!” Lavinia muttered. It was like her whole demeanor shifted, changing right in front of Cordelia’s eyes. “Well, I spent so many months now calling him a pig, but I had no idea just how correct I had been this whole time. I am done ruining my health for a man like him!”
Lavinia stood, strolling out of the room with purpose and quickly moving into her own bedroom. Cordelia watched in silence as her mother pulled bottle after bottle out of their hiding places. She followed her mother mutely through the whole house as she went from place to place, gathering bottles until her arms were full. She kept depositing them in the kitchen and then going to fetch more. It took at least half an hour to gather everything up and carry it all down into the kitchen.
Lavinia shoved a bottle into Cordelia’s hand and uncorked her own, dumping the liquor and wine in the buckets. Slowly, somewhat more hesitantly than her mother was, Cordelia started to do the same thing.
“I am never going to drink or cry ever again from this day forward. Mark my words, Cordi.”
Cordelia could not help but smile. She certainly hoped her mother’s declaration was true.