Chapter Eight #2
Maxine recoiled, but I grabbed her with us as Mom burst out
crying too.
We clutched and we wailed, and I was pretty sure my hat
poked her in the eye, and she didn’t care.
I ripped away from her hold, but caught her face in my
hands, laughed through my tears because she was right there, so close I could
touch her, and I was touching my momma, and I cried, “Oh my God! I was
so worried.”
“Honey, I’m fine.” She held Maxine close. “We’re fine.”
I turned to Maxine. “Maxie,” I whispered. “Hi.”
She studied me, biting her lip and sticking close to Mom.
“But…what happened to your eye?” Mom asked.
“I’m fine too,” I told her.
“Girl,” she warned.
I sighed. “I don’t think I have to tell you, the dude’s a
dick.”
Her eyes lit in a blaze of glory.
Okay, time to move past the bad, and get back to the good.
I took a step back and clapped my hands.
Maxine jumped.
Mom kept hold on Maxine and gave me a slow shake of her
head.
Right, no sudden movements or noise.
Noted.
“Okay, baths. Or food first? And clothes,” I declared in a
forced calm voice.
Mom took me in fully this time. “Good Lord, girl, what are you
wearing?”
Oh.
Wait.
Mom hadn’t been around and about to get the lay of the land
like I had.
No.
Wait.
I turned and saw Loren, Ansley, and new hot guy standing in
the wide doorway, watching the reunion.
Right.
I had to do this, and fast.
I moved in, trying to take care not to freak Maxine, and put
my mouth to Mom’s ear.
“I’m Satrine,” I whispered. “This
is my twin sister, and your other daughter, Maxine. They don’t know about the
worlds. They think Edgar faked your suicide. You’ve been banished with me to Fleuridia for two decades. Edgar’s going to jail now. We’re
living in a renaissance festival, or more like a Victorian festival, actually,
it’s kinda both, but a really good one. And I’ll fill
you in on the rest when we don’t have an audience.”
I swayed back, caught Mom’s eyes, she was staring at me like
I’d lost my mind, and then I announced loudly, “Of course, baths first.”
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m okay if you’re okay,” I answered. “And the rest, we’ll
sort out later.”
She held my gaze.
Then, thank you God, she slowly nodded before she turned to
Maxine and asked softly, “Would you like a bath, my beauty?”
“Yes, Momma,” she answered timidly.
Momma?
Oh.
Of course.
She looked like her mother.
Because she kind of was.
God, this was so effed up.
“I don’t want her out of my sight,” Mom told me.
“I’ll take care of everything, Countess,” Idina said from
behind me.
Mom’s attention shot back to me, she dipped her chin and
mouthed, Countess?
I mouthed back, Go with it.
Out loud I said, “Follow Idina. I’ll get you some food and
bring it up. Yes?”
Mom nodded.
I walked out of the room with them, to the staircase, where
I gave them over to Idina, who walked them up the stairs.
I stood at the foot and watched until they were out of
sight.
Quickly, I went back to the sitting room.
“When she’s back to herself, I’ll formally introduce you,” I
told Ansley.
“Of course,” he replied on a slight bow.
I didn’t know how “back to herself” I could make her, since
she was three inches shorter than me and twenty-five pounds lighter (maybe now
more like thirty-five, fucking Edgar) and clothing for rich people was made to
order, and I had a shit-ton to fill her in on without anyone hearing, but I’d
figure that out later.
“I’ll go make us all some tea,” I decided.
“The house servants are still here, my lady,” Loren noted.
Get yourself together, girl.
“Right, right, then I’ll call for some tea.”
I went to the cord Edgar always pulled when he wanted
something, and I pulled it.
I turned back to them.
“So the guy…uh, guy-er-guard who was watching them?”
“He’s been neutralized,” Loren said quickly.
“Neutralized?”
“He’s lying in a pool of his own blood downstairs. We’ve
called for the mortician. That’ll be cleaned up in a jiffy,” new hot guy said.
I wasn’t sure what I did just then, but I knew my mouth was
hanging open while I did it.
“Loren is a no muss, no fuss kind of chap,” new hot guy
shared while sauntering to an armchair and throwing himself in it sideways, one
long, substantial leg tossed over an arm, the other stretched out on the floor.
Stiffly, my body, and eyes, shifted to follow his voice and
his movements.
“Allow me to introduce you to my friend, Marlow Gladstone,
the Baron of Maitland,” Loren drawled.
“Errrrrrmm…” A girl in an outfit a
lot like the one at Ansley’s house, except the dress was gray, and the cap had
no ribbon in it, was standing at the door.
She stared at me.
Yes, I’d been kept under wraps.
Food was served, but I was always out of sight when it
happened, and the halls were cleared when I was in them.
Dad-not-Dad was taking no chances.
“Could you bring us some tea?” I asked. “And scones, jam,
cream, that sort of thing,” I added, since I was starving.
“Excellent, cream tea at ten in the morning. I like this
one, Lore,” Marlow Gladstone declared.
Fantastic.
They only did those teas at a certain hour.
Well, whatever.
I was the lady of the house, in a sense, at least for now,
so I could do what I wanted, and we were having it at ten in the freaking
morning.
“Yes, um…milady?” the maid asked after the fact if
I was, indeed, her lady.
I nodded to her.
She scurried away.
The men were all regarding me.
“Father was stingy with who he allowed to see me,” I
explained, and at least that wasn’t a lie.
“Ah,” Ansley murmured, then took his own seat.
Loren decided to grace another doorjamb, which was a good
call, he looked fab doing it.
Though, it was disconcerting that his eyes never left me as
he was doing it.
Until his head turned abruptly right before…
“Excuse me.”
A man appeared in the doorway wearing the same exact outfit
as the bad guy in the Aristocats and looking
more than mildly miffed.
But he’d lost his officiousness as he stared in shock at me.
“Lady Maxine?” he breathed.
“No, Lady Satrine,” I stated, like he should know better
(fake it ’til you make it, girl). “And you are?”
“Wishing to know who you are,” he retorted.
“Edgar Dawes’s other daughter,” I replied, like I was
reminding him.
Total confusion, unsurprisingly. “His other—?”
“I answered. Your turn,” I cut him off.
“Carling.” He squared his shoulders. “I run this house.”
“Then you’ll see to it that my mother and sister have
something suitable to wear after their baths, but more importantly, a hearty
meal,” I ordered.
His face paled. “Your mother…”
“Father faked her death. I’m sorry, I know this is a shock.
But I must ask you to get over it and take care of them. Father imprisoned them
downstairs and—”
He looked away and hissed to himself, “I knew there was
someone down there. He’s always got something going on down there.”
That didn’t sound good.
“Well, yes, you were right,” I declared imperiously.
“And you, you were in her rooms,” he went on.
“Yes again,” I confirmed.
“We thought it was one of his mistresses,” he shared.
Ick.
Moving on!
“It wasn’t. It was his daughter. Me. Now, they’ve been
poorly handled. We must see to them.”
Something else swept his face.
Something awestruck.
Hopeful.
“Lady Corliss is…here?”
“Yes,” I said softly. “And Maxine.”
“She’s with her Maxine,” he whispered solemnly.
My stomach clutched.
Something was not right here, something tragic and awful.
Carling pulled me out of these thoughts as he snapped to
attention to the point I heard the heels of his shiny shoes click together, and
he stated, “They are of a late fashion, but we never disposed of the lady of
this house’s wardrobe. We will see it unearthed. We will see it freshened. And
immediately, I shall call the modiste and tell her to attend the lady urgently.
We will outfit the countess as she is—”
“Carling,” I called.
“Yes, milady?”
“Just clothes and food for now, please?”
He nodded. “Right away, madam. Tout de suite.”
And then he bustled off.
Right, I made it through that.
And I needed a break before whatever came next.
I made my way to the settee, and fortunately my dress was so
tight, there was no other way to collapse onto it except gracefully.
This, I did.
I pulled out the hatpin, threw it in a bowl that sat on the
table in front of me, swept off the hat and sent it sailing.
I then slumped down, rested my head on the back of the
couch, and said, with extreme feeling, to the ceiling, “Thank God that’s over.”
“If you don’t want her, my man, I’m officially scratching my
name on the top of her dance card.”
Ah hell.
I forgot about my audience.
How did I do that?
I sat up and turned to Maitland, who was the one who spoke.
His eyes were on me, and he made a manly noise in his throat
when I stopped lounging, and I had to admit, I felt that noise in a very
private part of me.
“Brother,” Loren growled.
That hit in several private parts.
Maitland tore his eyes from me and grinned unrepentantly in
Loren’s direction.
“I apologize, I forgot myself for a moment,” I mumbled.
“Forget away,” Maitland allowed.
“You’re as close to me as blood, please help me not to spill
any of yours by ceasing panting over my betrothed,” Loren warned silkily.
His…
What?
I straightened further.
“So you’ve made your decision,” Ansley remarked.
“There is no other decision to make,” Loren replied.
“Seems sound to me,” Maitland noted.
“I’ve no idea what this takes, a dress, flowers, the
temple,” Loren went on.
“We’ll see it done in three weeks,” Ansley declared.
Loren’s gaze landed on me.
“Excellent,” he murmured.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Our wedding,” Loren stated instantly. “Which will happen in
three weeks. And I’d like to make a single request.” Pause while I held my
breath, and then, “No hat.”
So this was what was next.
Shit.