Chapter Eleven
Chapter
Eleven
The Countess of Derryman
Satrine
A few things of note for the start of our next day in
this world.
The first, when I was in middle school, I used to panic
about big reports or projects I had to do. I never really knew why. It was just
a block.
Whenever this would happen, Mom would dig in with me. Stick
by my side all the way.
I was an A-B student, mostly Bs (admittedly, a few Cs). I
didn’t love school, but Mom impressed on me how important it was to be educated
for a variety of reasons, including future employment, cultivating an open mind
and nurturing what she thought was essential: a lifelong joy of learning.
Plus, I was good at it.
Every report or project I did with Mom, though, got an A.
By the time I hit high school, I was over that block, and
all on my own made honor roll every semester from freshman to senior year.
In other words, wearing negligee sets, in a parallel
universe, pulling an all-nighter in Dad-not-Dad’s library, Mom and I dug into
our latest big project to face not only what was to come at the constabulary,
but what was to come for us in that world.
In order to kick its ass.
And, maybe a bit bleary-eyed, we met the day ready to do
just that.
The second, I should have let Carling call the modiste.
The outfit Mom had to wear to the constabulary had huge
skirts, including an overskirt, heavy embroidery and poofy sleeves. It was
nowhere near as awesome as mine, and peering out the window of the carriage, it
didn’t look anything like what we saw the ladies strolling the pavements were
wearing.
And everyone knew, when you had to inhabit a role, you had
to have the proper costume.
I was, by the by, in all violet this time. Not a traveling
outfit (in other words, no little jacket), but an outdoor one. Long fitted
sleeves, high collar that tickled the skin under my jaw, silk covered in lace
from chin to toe, with some thick grosgrain ribbons stitched over at the sides
of my knees where the thick gathering of skirts flounced out.
The train was ridiculous.
And I picked this dress because the hat that went with it
was the biggest I had. Violet with hints of black in a massive bow, a bunch of
trailing ostrich feathers and massive rosettes (yes, all of that).
The instant I put it on before we left the house, Loren
busted out laughing.
Which was precisely why I made that choice.
Now, however, Mom and I were sitting at a table in a room at
the constabulary, dainty china teacups in saucers
filled with tea in front of us, and we looked like we were waiting to be called
in to two different auditions for two separate period dramas.
Mental note: first thing when I got home, tell Carling to
send for the modiste ASAP. Mom needed to be kitted out for this world. And we
needed to take advantage of Dad-not-Dad’s money while we had access to it.
That meant, although the hospital was returning Maxine’s
personal things that day, she was getting a ton more dresses (and slippers and
whatever).
And I was augmenting my own wardrobe.
He brought us to this world, he’d pay for us to exist in it.
One way or another.
For the now, I had to concentrate.
Because we weren’t in there alone with the inspector.
We had witnesses.
The marquess and duke were standing at our backs like
sentries.
The inspector, wearing his stuffy black uniform with chest
panel buttoned across the front with brass buttons, sat opposite us.
He had a pewter fountain pen in hand, held over a sheaf of
papers contained in a battered leather folder, and had gazed for long seconds
at the bruise under my eye before he said, “Shall we begin?”
Mom and I had a plan.
We’d researched it as thoroughly as we could and blocked it
all out.
I knew this world better, so I was going to take the lead.
But Mom was a mom.
Her daughter(s)’s health, welfare and safety were on the
line.
Thus, instantaneously, she thwarted said plan and took over.
“Yes, indeed. My other daughter is home without me. Both
daughters have recently, and throughout their lives, endured trials
and tribulations at the hands of their father. So allow me to share
the fullness of grievances I have against my husband, and do that
swiftly, so I can take my one darling daughter, and return with her to my other
darling girl, as they both need me.”
She was gearing up to another “We’ll never be hungry again!”
moment, I could feel it.
“Momma—” I tried to cut in.
She turned to me, reached out, curled her gloved fingers
around mine, locked eyes with me, and shook my hand.
“Darling, please.”
Oh shit.
Back she went to the inspector, but she didn’t release my
hand.
“Beware, sir. My husband is a consummate actor. I know this,
as he was acting with every breath when he won me.”
“Milady,” the inspector murmured in a way it seemed he was
going to say more, Mom just didn’t give him the chance.
“It was not simply when I gave him twins, but before, well
before, when the mask slipped. But mark my words, it all fell apart when I
gave him my girls. I, to this day, do not understand it. My daughters
were not the first twins born in this universe, or any other.”
I pressed my lips together at the “any other” thing.
“But he had an uncommon, unhealthy aversion to
them. He considered them an aberration. It was mad. He sent Satrine
away after I first nursed her. I couldn’t believe it. I was undone. I
begged and pleaded, but he’d hear none of it. Once she was gone, he wouldn’t
even admit to Satrine existing. She’d vanished from
his life, and he considered that vanished from this earth. But for me, it was
the worst moment of my existence.” She drew in a delicate breath. “Sadly, I
would have others.”
“Countess,” the inspector tried to get in there again.
He totally failed.
“Bereft of one child, I showered attention on the other.
Only for her to suffer an accident that no mother, no parent, except my
husband, could abide. But she was my baby. My other child lost to me, I didn’t
even know where my Satrine was. I grieved
for her every day and loved her sister all the more for her loss. I had every
intention, I assure you, sir, every intention to love and care for my
Maxine, regardless of her state, for as long as I was breathing. To my deep
misfortune, this option was cruelly wrested from me.”
I gave her hand a tone it down squeeze.
She did not tone it down.
“Off I was packed to Fleuridia.
And off Maxine was packed to cold, desolate hospitals where others, not her
mother, cared for her. Make no mistake, they did this well, and I am
grateful to them. But I am her mother, and it should have been me. The
only consolation I had was that he sent my Satrine
with me. I finally had my other daughter back.”
I heard Loren and Ansley shifting behind me, I gave her
another squeeze, but Lady Corliss was on a roll and there was no stopping her
now.
“I’d no earthly clue, until recently, that he’d staged my
death. Though, at long last, that does explain his behaviors. I would spend the
next twenty years worried about Maxine, but with my Satrine.
We did not have much. He kept us in a secluded cottage, well away from any
populace, and disallowed us to have contact with anyone but each other. Now, I
know this was because he did not wish for anyone to see me. And, perhaps, Satrine.”
Holy wow.
We hadn’t come up with that.
It was a stroke of brilliance!
“He had someone watching us, and if we should try to reach
out to another, or attempt escape, something I gathered my daughter with me to
do, we’d be punished by being brought back and having something we needed
dearly taken away. Satrine getting new clothing when
she was growing, our allotted flour for the month so we had no bread, no oil
for our lamps so we had no light, fuel for our fires, that sort of thing.”
She sniffed, like the next memory overwhelmed her.
“We had a kind husband and wife who provided us provisions.
They did not hide they felt most sorry for our plight. They spoke the language
of the Vale, and we could often convince them to sit for some tea, a quick game
of tuble or enjoy an afternoon dram.”
Dram?
“But they were sent to us by him, and those were the only
interactions for which we did not earn a harsh rebuke.” Her voice changed like
she was uttering an afterthought. “And we did make friends with a few lonely
roamers.”
She came back to herself, thankfully didn’t wander down the
“lonely roamers” path, and her tone turned downcast.
“And regrettably, Edgar felt it was his duty to visit on a
rare occasion. However, it had been veritable years since we’d seen
him. We suspected that perhaps our confinement was over. He had forgotten us,
and we could make moves to be free. We’d begun devising plans to sally forth
and find our way on our own, without his meagre support. However, with his
usual dastardly timing, he arrived some months past and demanded Satrine stand in Maxine’s stead for her betrothal.
Obviously”—she lifted her nose—“we declined.” She then turned to Loren and
murmured, “No offense, your grace.”
“None taken, my lady,” Loren murmured back.
I returned to pressing my lips together.
Mom returned to the inspector.
“I hope you don’t need me to share in detail the indignities
we suffered as Edgar made clear he did not accept our declination, and all that
came after. I will just say, right here and now, regardless of the trauma, it
was worth every moment to finally have both my girls. Do what
you must to him. We’re together. So we have everything we need.”
She sat back, eyes still set on the inspector, and I fought
the need to jump to my feet and shout “Brava!”
The unknown-until-now twin thing, check.
The mom-fake-death thing, (kinda)
check.
Dad-not-Dad being a total asshole, check.
Us not knowing how to speak Fleuridian,
check.
Us possibly not behaving like your average ladies, check.
Playing the weak, defenseless female card without any real
weakness, check.
I shouldn’t have worried.