Page 46 of The Heir
She staggered, banging against Victoria, and almost knocked them both over. The waiting women, who had been waiting at a respectful distance, ran forward and caught her.
“Damned old knees!” bellowed Aunt Sophia. “They hurt! I hurt! Take me home, take me home!”
“Yes, ma’am. Come away now,” murmured her woman. “We will take you home.”
The woman turned Aunt Sophia to face the palace, but as she did, the old woman’s gnarled hand shot out and snatched Victoria’s sleeve, tearing the delicate gauze.
“Learn to live inside your walls, girl. Do not fight them. They will destroy you.”
Victoria covered over the tear in her sleeve as if it was her skin that had been scratched. She watched her aunt’s attendants lead her gently but firmly away, as they had led her out of the salon the other evening, after she had made her scene with Sir John.
After she had told one and all that he was lying.
After she told me he was lying.
Victoria felt Jane step up beside her. She’d almost forgotten the other girl. Now she was very glad she was there.
“We were talking about an errand you might go on, Jane,” Victoria said. “I’ve heard there’s an apothecary in the village, a Mr. Oslow, I think. His wife makes a lemon and verbena cordial that is said to be very soothing.”
“She might,” said Jane. “We use Mr. Cummings.”
“Well, go to Mr. Oslow and see if you can get a bottle of cordial. I want to give it to Aunt Sophia. I think she has not been sleeping well lately.”
“Yes, ma’am. Of course.”
Jane clearly did not understand everything that was happening, at least not fully. But Victoria was not thinking about her now. She was consumed by memory. Her mind’s eye showed her Mama at an evening party, laughing and tossing out careless, devastating insults to the lords and ladies gathered around her. “Oh, but you must not mind me!” Mama would say afterward. “You know I take nothing seriously!”
Except Mama took everything seriously, and the people around her knew that. But in those moments, she could make them believe the opposite. It was a performance, polished and perfected by repetition. Just like her own performance as the demure princess. Or Jane’s as the dullard.
Just like Aunt Sophia’s as the doddering old woman.
“I do not blame him,” Aunt Sophia had said. “Say that.”
Blame him for what, Aunt?Victoria wondered.What were you going to tell me? And why did you change your mind?
And why that warning about my walls? What happened inside yours?
Chapter 20
Rooms told stories, Victoria knew. Houses, however, spoke volumes.
When compared with the grandeur of London, Kensington was a modest village. But Dr. Maton’s establishment was a luxurious one, clearly meant to convey that he could easily have settled into the city’s rarified atmosphere had he chosen to do so.
It was a tall, modern house on the high street, built of warm red brick with fresh white trim. The windows sparkled in the blazing summer sun, and the marble steps were immaculate. The house had two doors, the first being plain and black and leading to a low wing off the main residence. This would be the entrance to the surgery. The second, painted green, led to the house itself.
The knocker had been muffled in black crepe. Lady Charlotte went up the stairs first and knocked for Victoria and Mama. They were admitted at once by a footman dressed all in black, even to the ribbon in the queue of his powdered wig.
All of them stood aside and made their reverences as Victoria climbed the steps and crossed the threshold.
Dr. Maton, or his wife, it seemed, had a taste for the dramatic as well as the expensive.
The entrance hall was tiled in marble, paneled in immaculate white up to the chair rail, and painted a pale blue above. The effect was airy, modern, and very uncomfortable.
Like walking into a cave of ice.
In that stark space, the man in black frock coat and trousers stood out as sharply as a silhouette on white paper. She could see at a glance that this must be one of Dr. Maton’s sons. He had thinning hair, a round face, a form that was already sagging toward middle age, all of which reminded Victoria sharply of her former physician.
He bowed deeply to Victoria.
