Page 162 of House of Roots and Ruin
“Gerard makes them. The babies in the jars.”
“He tries,” she said with a laugh, even though there was nothing humorous about the conversation.
“I saw them.”
Dauphine grasped my hand, my arm, clutching on to me as if I were a life preserver. “You have? You saw the babies?”
I think I nodded.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
I leaned in as she gestured for me to come closer.
Her breath was hot and wet in my ear. “I’m the reason they’re in those jars.”
“What?” My gasp rang out in the quiet room as sharp as a slap.
Dauphine had confessed.
She’d confessed to it all.
Sheknewof the experiments.
She’dhelpedwith them.
She’d helped Gerard in their messy aftermath…
“I mean, I didn’t put themin the jars,” she clarified, her hands restlessly drumming against the table. “But I was the one who kept them…kept them from being born.”
I recalled how small many of the babies had been.
“What did you do?” I whispered, feeling sick.
She blinked, her eyes impossibly large and glassy. “I tried to stop him.”
“Stop him?” I echoed. “You wanted to stop Gerard?”
Dauphine nodded, her earrings swaying back and forth with fervor. “Of course. I couldn’t stop him from finding the women—all those golden, golden women—but I could stop the babies. Just—” She made a slashing motion. A pair of scissors snipping thread. “Before they could draw breath.” She pushed back a wave of hair, as if seeking to right herself. “He’s not the only one who understands what plants can do.”
“Does Gerard know?”
She shook her head, then rubbed at her forehead as if warding off a dizzy spell. “Of course not. He never can see the whole picture, only the pieces that interest him. He blamed the women. He thought them too weak. He never could see that I…that I…” She trailed off as if unable to admit exactly what it was she’d done, even to herself.
“You poisoned them?” I confirmed.
“Most of them.” She licked her lips. “There were so many golden women.”
“The women were golden?”
My head ached, feeling impossibly sluggish. Words I knew held no meaning. My mind was a jumble of nonsensical ideas.
“Their blood. Golden. Just like yours.”
I struggled to follow along. “If you didn’t want those babies being born…why did you write to me? Why did you bring me to Chauntilalie?”
She took another sip of the wine and I placed my hand on her forearm, stopping her from draining the glass. The tears that had grown in her eyes spilled over now, falling down her cheeks, her remorse palpable. “Gerard wanted you for his experiments, I can’t deny that. But I…I wanted you for Alexander.” She rubbed at her cheek. “He’s so content and…stagnant. I don’t want him to remain at the estate, forever alone, forever waiting to take on the next step of his life. I want him to find love, to find a partner who will see the world with him, open up his life in ways I never could. My letter to you wasn’t a lie, not all of it. Iamfriends with Mercy. When I was at court, she told me so much of you and I knew—I just knew—if Alexander could meet you, he’d love you.” She let out a deep sigh. “I suggested bringing you to the estate for the portrait, and Gerard…he’d heard the rumors about your family. About the things that had happened to you when you were a little girl. About the things happening to you now, I guess.”
Her voice was soft, careful.
