Page 84 of The Heir
“Why would she think that?”
Jane swallowed. He had stopped asking how the thing happened. That was good. She must keep him away from that.
She must bow her head. She must twist her hands. She must tremble and hunch her shoulders. She must remember he might hit her, snap her head back, make her taste the blood in her mouth....
“She knows his father came to dinner at our house.”
Silence. If she looked up, she’d see the ice and calculation in his eyes. “How could she know that?”
“I told her,” whispered Jane.
“You fool! You talking fool!”
He was yelling, and she had expected it. Had deliberately brought it down on her own head to get him away from wondering how the princess had slipped through the bars of his perfect system. She had meant to cringe and cry and plead for forgiveness, like she always did. It would work. She knew it would.
“But . . . but . . . you told me to help her,” she whined. “You said to entertain her suspicions and keep her busy, and I have been doing just that.”
“You were not to share my private business with her!”
Why should she not speak to Gerald Maton, Father? Why should she not know it was Dr. Maton who was found dead out on the green? Why do you care?
It took everything she had to hold those questions inside.
Do not let him see what you’ve become. Do not let him know what you are. Hide, Jane. Hide everything!
But there were other voices, voices from the mists and the shadows, and they were louder and clearer, and oh, Jane wanted to listen to them.
“I tried, sir,” she said. “But what can I do? You won’t tell me your ends and aims, so how am I to know what I should say and what I should keep secret?”
It was a mistake. It was too much. He was going to hit her again.
“God preserve me from the imbecility of women!” he growled. “Since you are incapable of understanding on your own, I will spell it out for you. You are to indulge the princess. You are to play her little games and flatter her and pretend to run her errands, but whatever she has you do, you come straight to me and youtellme, and I will decide how you are to proceed. Now, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
Why am I angry? Why am I even disappointed? He does not change. He will not. I knew that. I know that. I used it. I should be happy that my distraction worked.
But Jane could not be happy. She was angry and sorely disappointed. She hated the scene she had just so successfully played out.
“Now.” Father made a great show of being patient. “You say she talked with Gerald Maton? What did she tell you about that?”
“She said his mother and brother had burnt the late doctor’s papers.” Jane kept her gaze focused on her hands. She did not dare look up, or he might see the blazing anger she carried inside. “She’s not sure what she can do next.” Jane paused. She let her brow furrow. “I think she may be getting tired of the whole thing.”
Which was as blatant a falsehood as Jane had ever told.
“And that’s all?”
Jane nodded fast, like a little girl being questioned about her lessons.
“She’s said nothing to you about any communication with the palace? With the king or queen?”
Jane looked up, genuinely startled. “No. Why? Is there—”
But Father was frowning because she had dared to ask anything at all. Because it was what he did and always would do.
“I’m sorry, sir.” Jane ducked her head.
“You will keep a close eye on the princess, and especially her doings with Lehzen,” he said. “It may be she is trying to send messages behind her mother’s back, and Lehzen is helping her. If such a thing is happening, we need to know how it’s being done, do you understand?”
