Page 42 of The Unforgiven
“Grandmamma, what are you saying?” George sounded more bewildered than angry. His voice cracked with fatigue and bitterness, and Madeline was sure he’d been crying.
“I’m saying that Amelia has lost three babies. I really thought she’d carry this one to term, but it wasn’t meant to be. You must get rid of her, George.”
“She’s my wife,” George protested.
“A wife who can’t give you a living child, and likely never will. Accuse her of adultery and start divorce proceedings against her.”
“I will not!”
“So what do you propose? Staying married to a woman who’s as good as barren? Don’t be a fool, Georgie.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m not a child.”
“You’re carrying on like one. A man does what must be done.”
“Grandmamma, Amelia just lost a child. Don’t you think she’s suffered enough? I will not be cruel to her. I love her.”
Madeline heard Sybil’s hiss of derision. “Love! What’s that got to do with anything? Duty is what matters. You are the last living Besson male. It is your duty to run this plantation and make it profitable. It is your duty to produce an heir to leave the plantation to. And it is your duty to do what’s right for future generations. Amelia is nothing but a cog in a wheel. When the cog breaks, you replace it with a new one.”
“The way Grandfather replaced you?” George asked, his tone mocking.
Madeline cringed when she heard the sound of a slap. “Shut up, you insolent pup! You will do as you are told.”
“Or what?” George baited her. “What will you do?”
Sybil remained silent.
“That’s what I thought. Perhaps you should consider taking a European holiday. It will do you good.”
“The only way I will leave this plantation will be in a pine box,” Sybil retorted.
“And that day will come sooner than you think if you continue to lord it over me, Grandmamma. You look tired. Perhaps you should get some rest.”
Madeline crept up the stairs and returned to her room, reeling from the conversation she’d overheard. How could anyone be so cruel? How was it possible that Madeline’s kind, loving father came from this heartless woman who didn’t have a shred of sympathy for anyone? And what had George meant when he mentioned that Sybil’s husband had replaced her? Replaced her with whom? But what troubled Madeline the most was the note in George’s voice when he had threatened his grandmother. Sybil had pushed him too far, but could he really be capable of doing her harm?
Madeline waited until the usual time, then returned downstairs. The dining room was set up for breakfast, but neitherCissy nor Bette was there. Madeline was surprised to see Mammy coming into the room with a platter of eggs and bacon.
“Good morning, Madeline,” Mammy said. “And how are you today?”
“Sad.”
“Losing a child is a sad business,” Mammy agreed as she set the dishes on the sideboard.
“Mammy, did you know my grandmother when you were young?”
Mammy pursed her lips and looked away from Madeline. She pretended to busy herself with rearranging china on the table.
“Mammy?”
“Yes, I knew her. And she knew me. And it made neither of us very happy.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that history is best left in the past, child. Now, eat your breakfast. You’s growing too thin.”
Madeline opened her mouth to ask more questions, but Mammy walked out of the dining room and closed the door behind her, signaling that the conversation was over. Madeline helped herself to some eggs and a strip of bacon, but she didn’t have much of an appetite. Only two days ago she had sat here with Amelia, discussing layettes and baby names. Amelia had planned to call the baby George, but if it happened to be a girl, she favored Rosalie or Josephine. She’d said that George didn’t like either name and thought it might be nice to name the baby Arabella, after the original mistress of the plantation.
Madeline turned around at the sound of the door opening. She thought Mammy had returned, but it was George. He looked gray and tired, his eyes red-rimmed from exhaustion and grief. Hewas still wearing the clothes he’d worn yesterday, and dark blond stubble covered his lean cheeks.
