No. No.
She would never be like this. Her flaw was that she had too much compassion. She was the opposite of this woman in every way. In truth, she had never resembled her mother either physically or in temperament.
She did not have much in common with her father, either. Perhaps the color of their hair was similar, although his was much lighter, more of a cornsilk blond in his younger days. His hair was shot through with strands of white now. His eyes were green, but a much darker shade than hers. More of a forest green.
But they did often laugh together.
The mere sight of her always cheered her father whenever he felt particularly defeated. He always had a smile for her, and would make her smile if she appeared to be overset. Despite his many flaws, she still loved him. In time, she might forgive him for agreeing to sell her off to Sir Henry.
What did it matter?
She had escaped that evil man’s clutches and was happily married to Octavian now. Best of all, theirs was a love match.
She placed a hand over her stomach as it began to churn with this perpetual dread she could not seem to shake off.
Why did it plague her?
Octavian was nothing like her father, and would never repeat any of his mistakes, for he was fine and brave.
Abandoning her was out of the question.
He would never gamble away his fortune.
They were truly husband and wife in every possible way now, and he would always put her and any children they were blessed to have first in his heart.
“Oh, he smiles and struts about like a fine gentleman,” her mother grumbled, regaining Syd’s attention as she bemoaned her father. “He pats you on the head and tells you what a pretty thing you are, but he lies through his teeth. You arenothingto him. You, my girl, with your smug smile and new husband who will soon deceive and disappoint you, were never anything more than a useful tool for him to access an inheritance.”
“What do you mean?”
Her mother said nothing, merely responded with another smug look.
“Mama, why do you stay under the same roof with my father if you are so miserable with him?” Syd asked.
“And where else would I stay?”
“You have family who would help establish you elsewhere.”
Her mother huffed. “Are you suggesting I retire to Bath? Move about in that lesser Society? Entertain graceless rustics and creaky-kneed gentry who have settled there for the healing waters?”
“It is second only to London in our social circles and more popular than London in the summers,” she replied, wondering why her mother appeared more agitated than usual.
“You are just like your father. Always hoping to get rid of me. But I am a countess and will not be demeaned. I will not give up the privileges of my rank.”
Syd reached over to take her mother’s hand in comfort, but her mother drew it away and cast her an icy look. “I only married him because he was an earl. What good has it done me? I shouldbe living in style instead of always scrounging for pin money. And you certainly gave us a worry.”
Warmth spread through Syd. “You were worried about me? I’m sorry I ran away, but you and Papa left me with no choice. I did not want to marry Sir Henry.”
Now, she felt badly about not telling her parents about her elopement plans. But how could she let on when the information would have quickly fallen into Sir Henry’s hands and he would have stopped them? Nor could her father simply agree to let her marry Octavian, for Sir Henry had a stranglehold on him because of his gambling debts. The villain would have killed her father had he given his consent to a union between her and anyone other than himself. “Truly, Mama. I am so sorry I gave you cause to worry for my safety.”
She laughed bitterly. “It wasn’t about you, Syd. It has never been about you. Are you so blind to what you are to us?”
What was her mother going on about? Syd hated these cryptic comments designed to be vague and cruel. Why could she not simply get to the point? “What do you mean?”
She stared at her mother, noting the age lines across her brow and at the corners of her eyes. Her mouth had a downward dip to it, so that she never looked happy even when her face was relaxed. Her dark brown hair was threaded with gray, and she sat with a slight stoop, as though bowed by the weight of her age. She was only in her mid-forties, but the dark orbs staring back at Syd looked aged beyond their years.
“Have you not guessed the truth by now, stupid girl?”
Another knot formed in Syd’s belly. She no longer saw her mother’s face but waves of darkness swirling around her. “You’ve had your cruel fun. Just tell me what this is about.”
