Page 160 of House of Roots and Ruin
“Oh.” Her face softened and she reached across the table to place her hand over mine.
“I know what a letdown that would be to you. To Gerard. And my sister has already written, expressing concern about all that.” The lie rolled easily from my lips.
A strange light flickered to life in her eyes. “Has she?”
I nodded. “She said it was the single most important task for any duchess—issuing the next heir.” Dauphine frowned and my heart hurt, knowing I’d opened up one of her old wounds. “I’d just hate for you or Gerard to think we weren’t taking our responsibilities seriously,” I said in a rush, trying to smooth it over.
She took a swallow of wine, musing over my words. “Verity. I’m touched you’re concerned about that…but you needn’t worry. If you want children, there are plenty of ways.”
I took a deep breath.
This was it.
She was about to spill all of Gerard’s secrets, implicating herself in the process.
“Are there?”
Dauphine nodded. “Of course.”
As if seeking fortification, she drained the last of the goblet before motioning to refill mine. When I waved her off, she poured the last of the bottle into her glass, filling it nearly to the brim.
“It’s a bit unconventional, but adoption is certainly an option.”
My eyebrows rose in surprise. “I would have thought that…that Gerard…would only want a true Laurent as heir.”
The room was silent for several terrible heartbeats.
Dauphine’s eyes darted toward the door, assuring herself we were alone. “What exactly do you know?”
“Know?” I echoed, trying to buy myself time as my insides scrambled. The ground beneath me felt impossibly treacherous, ready to give way with any wrong step. If I admitted to everything I knew and she’d been working on Gerard’s side, she’d go straight to him and they’d act before Julien and Viktor could ever get to the authorities. But if I played dumb, it was unlikely she’d freely volunteer any useful information.
I took a steadying sip of wine before remembering how sharp it was.
She pushed the bread basket forward, then took another sip herself.
I eyed her glass.
The wine had already loosened her behavior—she was allbut slouching in her chair, ripping chunks of bread from the loaf, looking more like a peasant than the esteemed Duchess of Bloem.
Perhaps it might also loosen lips…
I took another swallow, just enough to nearly empty the glass—I couldn’t letmywits run wild from me—and pushed it to the center of the table, where she was sure to notice.
Ever a gracious hostess, Dauphine picked up the bottle before remembering it was empty. “We need more wine!” she called out, her voice growing loud enough to call for the barmaid. “More bread. More wine.”
Her tone was strained. Her skin was flushed and glistening with sweat.
“Are you feeling well?” I asked.
Dauphine’s head bobbed. “I’m fine. I’m actually feeling so…fine.”
I dabbed my napkin at the corner of my lips, hiding my smile.
My plan was already working.
The girl returned, an open bottle in one hand, another bread basket in the other.
Dauphine clapped like an excited child as her glass was refilled, then grabbed hold of the bottle and shooed the serving girl away. With an unsteady hand, she filled my goblet, drops of wine spilling onto the table like blood splatter.
