Page 55 of The Butterfly
Daphne raised her eyebrows. “You thought I was coming to take Serena away and … well, you attacked me quite viciously.”
Olivia’s conscious prickled with guilt, one hand coming up over her open mouth. “Oh, God! Oh … I am so sorry! I couldn’t have meant it.”
Reaching out to pat her hand, Daphne laughed. “Oh, you meant it, but it is all right. You did not know me … only that I was a Fairchild. You were protecting that sweet little girl, even in the midst of your terror. I admire you very much, Olivia. I hope you know that. I do not begrudge you a thing.”
“Thank you. Still, Iamsorry.”
“Think nothing of it,” Daphne insisted. “Now, there is something important you and I must discuss. Niall would kill me if he knew I was telling you this, and Adam would help him, but I do not care. This involves you as much as the rest of us, and I do not think it fair for them to go on handling you like a delicate piece of glass. I was once treated that way by my family, you know … cosseted, spoiled, hidden away from the things that might upset me. I do not like the feeling.”
“Neither do I. I have wondered what is going on all this time, but everyone seems to think I am still too fragile to stomach it. I am grateful for you, Lady Daphne.”
“Just Daphne, please. We need not stand on formality with one another. I should warn you that what I must tell you has to do with my brother.”
Bertram.
Her hands clenched together in her lap, and her mouth went dry. But, even as her stomach roiled and her hands began to sweat inside her gloves, she found that thinking his name did not disturb her as much it once had. In fact, the fear was just a little less acute this time … a bit easier to stomach, no longer so crippling.
“Is it too much?” Daphne prodded. “If it is, I will let the matter drop.”
Swallowing, Olivia shook her head. “No, no. It is time for me to stop running. Whatever it is, I want to hear it.”
“He knows … about Serena … your condition.”
Olivia choked down the knot of fear working its way into her chest. Her memories of the threats made against her reared their ugly head. She had been told that Bertram’s uncle would return to take the babe, and her fear for Serena had been a crushing weight during every hour of every day she’d spent in the asylum.
Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that days had passed since Bertram’s visit and that the uncle, William Fairchild, had been dead some time now. She had Adam and Niall here to protect them. The bruises just beginning to fade across Niall’s knuckles stood as a testament to his promise to keep them safe. If Bertram had not returned, there must be more to this.
“What does he want?”
“Money,” Daphne replied with a heavy sigh. “Quite a lot of it. He has attempted to extort a large sum from Adam in exchange for leaving Serena be and keeping his silence about your ordeal.”
“But he will never stop!” she declared, rising to her feet and beginning to pace.
The panic was overwhelming her, beating out rational thought. And, oh God, Niall had taken Serena out walking! What if Bertram happened upon them? What if something horrible happened? What if …
“That is why we must stop him,” Daphne replied, standing and reaching out to grasp her shoulders. “I have a plan, and Niall has been helping me set it in motion.”
This calmed her a bit, and she went still, shaking her head and trying to make sense of it all. “Niall? Why not Adam?”
“Because Adam plans to kill him … we are trying to intervene before he does.”
“Hewouldsettle on death as an only option.”
“Well, he and I agree that Bertram must die … we simply disagree on the method.” At Olivia’s frown, Daphne took her hands and guided her back to the bench, easing her down. “You see … I intend to have my brother prosecuted for what he has done. When Adam struck out to bring him down, it was mostly for your sake, but also for the sake of other women like you. It came to his attention that you were not the only one.”
While she had always suspected such, it brought her a certain kind of relief to hear her suspicions confirmed. Not because she wished what had happened to her upon any other woman, but because knowing she was not alone helped combat her mind’s notion that any of it had been her fault. If Bertram had other victims, it meant that she might have fallen prey to him no matter how foolishly she’d acted, no matter what she had or had not done.
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and then released it, her mind racing at the implications of all this. “How do you plan to go about this? It is near impossible to bring down a peer … especially without witnesses.”
The idea of having to appear in a public court, to give voice to the things that had been done to her before the world, made her blood run cold. It made her want to retreat back inside her mind where she might hide from this pain, this fear. However, she’d decided to stop hiding, hadn’t she? Perhaps that meant finally showing her face to the society she’d left behind and letting them all know where she had been all this time.
“I have already been in contact with a magistrate who assures me that the testimony of Bertram’s victims will provide adequate enough evidence for a conviction,” Daphne replied. “However, he has warned me—and I agree—that it might be difficult to convince these women to come forward. The shame is bad enough on its own … now, we must ask them to air it all out in public. They could be ruined over it.”
Olivia wondered if Daphne knew that many of these women likely already felt ruined. Even if they’d gone on to lead better lives than her, they might always feel as if they carried the stain of their assault upon their souls. Perhaps it might be worth the exposure of all their secrets if Bertram could be prevented from hurting another unwitting woman.
“I want to bring these women together,” Daphne continued. “If even a few of them will agree to tell the world their stories, then we can put a stop to this. We can protect the women of London from my brother. I do not expect you to be one of them, Olivia—please know that. Of Bertram’s known victims, I can find no evidence that he sired a child upon any other than you. You were the only one who bore a child, who suffered in an unwed mothers’ asylum, the only one who …”
“Went mad,” Olivia offered. “I am the one who stands to lose the most by going public.”
