Page 12 of The Heir
“But we have done everything possible.” Mama leaned toward him.
“I know, I know,” he breathed. “But it has always been in her.”
“I am not mad!” screamed Victoria.
The words rang in the air. Sir John and Mama both faced her. Mama on the verge of tears, Sir John smiling, cold and smug. Separate individuals again.
Victoria knew her face was flushed. She felt the hot tears, harsh against her skin.
Sir John watched her cry and was so very happy.
“How are we to know?” he breathed. “When you cannot control your temper or stand upright without growing dizzy, when you talk of seeing ghosts—”
Those words froze her. “I said nothing of ghosts.”I did not. I am sure I did not.
“You saw a dead man who was not there. What is that but a ghost? And you stand here, screaming like a banshee, insisting on the truth of a story that has already been contradicted. That is foolishness, or it is madness.”
Mama dropped both hands onto Victoria’s shoulders. “No. It is not so. It cannot be. I have watched. I have taken every precaution—”
“No one can blame you.” Sir John spoke to her gently, lovingly, and entirely. It was as if Victoria had dissolved and was no longer there. “No one can have shown more care. It is the family taint.”
“Her father showed no sign!”
“But there is her grandfather,” said Sir John. “And her uncles and her aunt Sophia,” he added, as if he had just thought of it, as if he had not repeated this slander a thousand times previously.
“You will stop this at once!” shouted Victoria.
But of course they did not stop. They were caught up in each other and their mutual imaginings.
Mama clasped her hands together. “What will we do? What can be done? We cannot tell the doctors! They will talk. This new man, Clarke! What will he say? We cannot know!”
Victoria felt her anger crumble as the panic burned through. Without thinking, she sought out Lehzen. Their eyes locked. She saw her governess willing her to resist the storm building inside her.
Be strong. You must be strong.
But she also saw how worried Lehzen was. Victoria suddenly felt acutely aware of how her back and head both ached. Her knees trembled.
No matter what Sir John might or might not do, she knew that she must lie down, or she would grow dizzy again. She had already shown him far too much weakness. She could not let him see her balance fail.
Victoria closed her mouth. Her back hurt, but she drew herself up. Her vision blurred from the pain. She forced herself to ignore it.
“I beg your pardon, Mama,” she said. “I should not have spoken so.”
Mama lifted her head and turned. Victoria arranged her features into an expression of calm regret. She dropped her gaze and made sure her hands were folded neatly before her.
You are not the only one who can play your part.
“I am tired. I believe I shall lie down a little before dinner.”
She raised her eyes. She made them wide. She made herself small. Made herself the Victoria that Mama wanted to see.
“Oh, my child.” Mama folded her in a close embrace. Victoria shut her eyes. “You must not frighten me like that!”
She loves me. She is afraid because he makes her afraid. She would not be so if he was not here.
Victoria shoved that thought roughly down into darkness.
Mama finally released her, and Victoria faced Sir John. Sir John frowned. He always did when she became this other thing—this little girl whom he could not fault.
