Page 48 of The Pureblood Daughter
Despite her advanced age, the countess has smooth olive skin free of the wrinkles that plague so many mothers in their high society. Her hair, slightly darker than Theodore’s, is swept up in a braided crown, loose strands framing her face and highlighting her striking green eyes, which sparkle with warmth.
“It was conjecture, though I feel a fool now for not seeing it sooner. You look so like her.”
The countess reaches out to touch Adelina’s chin, and Adelina freezes under her touch. The fingers upon her chin are delicate and frightening all the same. When the countess releases her, Adelina swallows and finds her words.
“Like whom?”
“Your mother.” The sparkle leaves the countess’s eyes and is replaced by something sad. She seems to study Adelina through a new lens, one Adelina cannot begin to understand.
“My mother? My...birthmother?”
Lady Rosetti nods, and a lump forms in Adelina’s throat.
How can that be? She knows nothing about her parents except for how they died. She doesn’t know their names, faces, or even the color of their eyes.
“You knew my mother?”
The countess nods. “Quite well. She was a good friend. My best, even.” Tears spring to her eyes, and then her hand curls into a fist upon the table. “It’s been nearly twenty years now, yet it still feels like yesterday. We should’ve put that hunter in the ground...”
“What?” Adelina blinks in surprise. “Hunter? No, my parents were killed in a carriage accident. I was the only survivor.”
The countess shakes her head and casts her gaze to the ceiling, then takes a slow breath. “Forgive me—all these years later, I’ve still not accepted it.” Her green eyes find Adelina’s, and her gaze is sharp. “You’ve been lied to about many things, including the deaths of your parents. There was no carriage accident; your mother and father were killed by hunters, and the carriage was turned over after the fact, pushed into the river to make it appear as though a terrible accident had taken place.”
It feels as though the polished hardwood floor falls out from beneath Adelina’s feet. She’s tumbling through darkness and deception, her breathing coming quicker now as she fights for some semblance of footing.
“B-but Lord Rosetti told me there’s been a truce the past fifty years. So, surely...”
Surely she’s wrong. There must be some mistake.
“We’re not supposed to kill one another anymore, but Lord Gray has never much liked following rules.”
“Papa?” she whispers, and the word makes the countess narrow her eyes. “He would never...”
Her father’s words rush in to fill her mind, his dark tone like water crashing over her head, drowning her.“If all goes to plan, that abomination will cease to breathe, and we can all go back to the way things were.”
“My father...?” Adelina can’t bring herself to put the question into words, but the countess seems to understand.
Lady Rosetti uncurls her tight fist and reaches once more across the table, this time taking Adelina’s hand in hers. “Lord Gray murdered your birth parents, and he and his hunter cronies staged it to look like an accident; after all, as you know, we’re not supposed to kill one another anymore.”
Adelina’s stomach turns, and she fears she may be sick. But first, she has to know... “My mother... Is she aware of this?”
“Not to my knowledge. I don’t believe Lady Gray knows of her husband’s clandestine conduct, and we’ve received no information tying her to the guild.”
That, at least, sounds right. Her mother would never condone such behavior. But neither, Adelina thought, would her father. Until now.
“Has my mother called on me? Does she know I’m here?” Adelina suddenly yearns to see her, to be cradled in her embrace and told everything will be okay.
“She’s not called, but I notified her of your arrival. My son wished me not to, but he knows not what it is to be a mother.”
Adelina lets out a sigh. “Thank you. I’ve been worried for her.” She casts her gaze down, admires the way the light gleams off the tea in her teacup. “And you’re certain of this? Of what Papa—Lord Gray—did to my family?” she asks, looking up to the countess for any hint of betrayal.
“I wish I weren’t. And I instructed Theodore not to speak a word of it to you. It needed to come from me, from someone who knew them.”
All her life she’s longed to know something,anything, about her birth parents, but now that Lady Rosetti sits before her, she can only think of one question to ask.
“What were their names?” Adelina whispers.
Lady Rosetti’s dusky lips turn up slightly. “Kirill and Vera, from Clan Magdalena,yourclan.”
