Page 96 of The Heir
Victoria swallowed. “Jane said . . . said her father said . . . about her mother . . . I wanted to know if it might be true.” She blushed. This stammering was not like her. She had come here determined to face any and all truths she might learn. “Jane told me that Sir John thinks his wife is . . . is my half sister. Could it be true?”
“Well, now, Vickelchen, I’ll tell you.” Aunt Sophia leaned back on her bolsters and regarded her seriously. “Your father was a cunning, careful man, and he kept a close eye on his future. He knew there was a chance he might come to the throne, and he didn’t want any complications from the wrong side of the blanket to follow him there.”
Perhaps she should not be so relieved. Perhaps she should have been more confident that the story about Lady Conroy was just another lie, as Jane had suspected. But Victoria was relieved. So much so, in fact, that for a moment she could do nothing but gather Dash up and hold him close.
Aunt Sophia gave one of her deep chuckles and rubbed Dash’s head.
“I’m sorry to have disturbed you with such talk,” said Victoria.
“You do not disturb me, my dear. As it happens, I’m rather impressed you asked the question. I was sure that your mother had quite destroyed your ability to think of your own future.”
“Did you ever?” she asked curiously. “Think of your future?”
“Oh, my dear, we had no future, and we knew it. Marriage was one escape available to any of us, but the law said that the king must approve any proposal before we could accept it, and the king’s illness left him unable to approve anything at all.” She shook her head again. “There, at least, my brother George did what he promised. When proposals were made for my sisters, he agreed to them. I, alas, had taken matters into my own hands by then.”
“Why did you do it?”
“I fell in love. Or I told myself that I had. The truth was, I was desperate for some shred of a life that was my own. Something unconnected to the tangle of my family, of my rank and title. And there were other reasons . . .” Her words and her gaze drifted away.
She is not here. She is in the past. Heaven help her, it is an ugly place.
“Let it be a lesson to you, my dear,” whispered Aunt Sophia. “Whatever dream of the future you nurture, keep it free of romantic notions. Love can only ruin the lives of women like us.” She took up her handkerchief and blew her nose hard. “Ach! I am a mess. An old, sentimental mess.” She dropped the kerchief onto the table beside her bed. “Now, was there anything else you wanted to know?”
“Yes, in fact. Why did you make sure I would see Mr. Rea and Sir John together? Leaving your room?”
Her aunt squinted at her. “What is this?”
“The day you invited me up here. I know what you said at the concert . . .”Sussex told me you’d arrived. That was some poor planning on my part. This old head of mine.“But you really wanted me to see them leaving your rooms, wasn’t it?”
“Good God! How suspicious you have become!” cried Aunt Sophia. “But since I see I must allay these worries, I will tell you, I didn’t expect them. They came to me. There were papers they wanted me to sign. Mr. Rea helps with my money, and Sir John directs Mr. Rea.”
“But why would you let Sir John near your money? You hate him!”
“Because, my dear, Sir John hates my brothers and will exert himself to the utmost to make sure they cannot get their hands on any part of my allowance. Now, he may take something for himself as a sort of commission for his services and his silences, but he at least knows enough not to kill the golden goose. I could not expect so much forbearance from any of my brothers.”
Victoria made no answer. She only stared at her aunt in mute horror.
Aunt Sophia made a dismissive gesture. “We all do what we must, Vickelchen. You know this already. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
Victoria petted Dash. She watched her hand moving across his silky back.
Aunt Sophia caught her hand and squeezed. “No tears, child. No regrets. We will not be conquered, not even by our own families.” She grinned, and it was a terrible expression showing all the gaps between her crooked teeth. “It is your turn to answer some questions. Why come to me with this now, hmm? Why are you nosing about in these murky waters?”
“Because Dr. Maton may have been poisoned. Because someone offered his family a pension to keep certain facts about his death a secret, which made them burn all his papers.”And that someone might have been Sir John, and he could have been following your instructions, because Dr. Maton knew about your son, and you wanted to make sure that secret did not get out again.
“And you think perhaps I decided Dr. Maton could no longer be trusted to keep quiet? So I sat scheming in my tower like Eleanor of Aquitaine and ordered my minions to poison his port wine?”
“You think I am ridiculous.”
“I think you are an intelligent young woman. I think you look and you see and you listen. And our family has done far, far worse than cause the death of one greedy man. But no, Vickelchen. If someone tired of Dr. Maton’s threats and made an end of him, it was not me.”
“But why does Uncle—”
But Aunt Sophia cut her off. “No more. You have tired me out, my girl. Go back to your own country. Leave me to mine.” She settled back and closed her eyes.
“But—”
Aunt Sophia held up her hand, gesturing for silence. Then she pointed toward the door. She did not open her eyes.
