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 Satrinewas. 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.

Mom always had it going on.

I didn’t get those As for nothing, that’s all I was saying.

The inspector opened his mouth to speak.

And the door flew open, slamming against the wall.

We all jumped, and I felt the heat of Loren’s body suddenly at my back.

But Carling swooped in, followed by two men in rough clothing, one well-built and rather good-looking, one slender and tall, with a kind face.

They were followed by a red-faced, angry constable.

“We will be heard!” Carling declared.

“Carling, what on earth?” Mom asked, and hopefully it was only me who heard the nervousness threading her tone.

Carling took a step forward, bowed to her, straightened, and said, “My lady, allow me.”

“I sense you two know each other,” the inspector noted.

“Indeed!” Carling cried. “I am Rutherford Carling! Eighth generation houseman, with the running of the Derryman House!”

“My guess is, you have something to say,” the inspector drawled.

“I will allow no quarter to offend my lady with further grief and tragedy,” Carling proclaimed.

Whoa.

Carling had some pluck.

“Will you not?” the inspector asked.

“No,” Carling snapped. “I will not.”

And the man was not backing down.

He turned to Mom and his face gentled.

“I’m sorry, but it must be said,” he decreed softly.

“I’m afraid it must,” Mom muttered.

Carling looked at me.

“My lady,” he whispered.

“Carling,” I whispered back, having no clue what he was about to say.

He shifted his attention to the inspector.

“What you see on my younger lady’s face is not the first mark my employer made on one of the females who should have had his loving devotion and care.”

Mom’s fingers tightened around mine.

This was not good.

The real Lady Corliss…

And maybe even Maxine?

I stared at Carling, who was fit to be tied, and I knew.

I dropped my head.

Loren’s hand curled over my shoulder.

“But I can assure you, it is with horror that I share it was the least of his transgressions,” Carling continued.

What?

I lifted my head.

“No, I’m not speaking about the fact he was an unkind employer, and often more than unkind, rather cruel, especially to the females in his employ, who are my charges, but I was powerless to help them.”

“Oh my gods,” I breathed.

“No,” Carling carried on. “I’m not speaking about the fact he gave no references, so one couldn’t leave his employ even if they wanted to, for they’d never find another position, and they were forced to stay tied to him, like indentured servants.”

At that, Mom and I both gasped.

“No, I’m talking about the fact that Beacher here”—he turned to the handsome fellow—“and Hagley”—he turned the other way and jerked his chin to the slim fellow—“both consummate grooms and consummate horsemen, warned his lordship not to put his little daughter on that large and unpredictable of a horse—”

Oh…my…gods!

Mom shot out of her seat.

Everyone looked to her.

I rose, getting close, holding on tight, staring at her ashen, distraught face.

“Mom.”

“Carling, don’t,” she whispered to Carling.

“I’m sorry, milady, it has to be known,” he replied.

“It does,” the inspector said gently.

Carling hurried on, jumping forward in the story, thank God.

“She blamed him, as she would. Who wouldn’t?” Carling asked a question with an answer everyone knew, so no one answered it. “He was beside himself with fury at what he considered her audacity. He never did anything wrong. He never took responsibility for mistakes he might make. To be honest, for twenty years, simply to stop his wife from demanding he return her daughter as well as stand up for what he had done and perhaps feel a hint of remorse for his actions, I thought he’d murdered her in that gazebo.”

“Bloody hell,” I breathed.

Carling sniffed the air and regarded Mom.

“I knew you didn’t take your own life. You loved that gazebo, for one. You took Lady Maxine there to nurse her. If you felt it necessary to leave this world, you’d never have done it there. Not ever.”

Okay, good news, Carling pretty much corroborated our story, in a sense.

Bad news, it seemed us being there meant maybe we’d just accidentally falsely exonerated Edgar for murder.

“I need to get back to Maxine,” Mom murmured.

“Momma,” I whispered.

She looked to me. “I’m fine.”

She wasn’t.

The dad of this world hurt the me of this world, a me who was now her daughter as sure as I was.

I didn’t blame her, and I wasn’t surprised. If I were her, I’d probably feel the same way.

But this further complicated things.

By a lot.

Now it was a definite that I had to get all three of us back to our universe, and how would Maxine handle that?

“If you have what you need, inspector, I’d like to escort the countess home,” Ansley said.

“I feel we do indeed, from Countess Derryman. Though, I’ll need a few words with Lady Dawes before she goes.”

“I’ll stay with Satrine, Father. Take Lady Corliss,” Loren said.

“I’ll send the carriage back,” Ansley replied, then to Mom. “My lady?”

She took his offered elbow, whispering, “My gratitude, your grace.”

Loren stood at my side as I watched them walk to the door.

But Mom stopped there.

And I stared as Carling stiffened with stunned surprise when Mom curled her fingers around both his arms, then went in to kiss his cheek.

“You are a good man, Rutherford Carling,” she said quietly.

His face stained red and he shifted awkwardly, pleased and uncomfortable with the sentiment.

“Beacher, Hagley, thank you,” she went on.

“Mum,” Beacher said.

“Milady,” Hagley mumbled.

She nodded to them, nodded to Ansley, and with her head held high, the Seventh Countess of Derryman strode through the door.

And they were away.