Page 82 of The Dravenhearst Brides
Margot leaned away, scooted to the edge of her chair. She was filled with aching sadness. Eleanor looked as frail as a baby bird. Thin wrists, shrouded face, heaving shoulders…if this was the portrait of motherhood, it was hardly a glowing advertisement.
“You’ve got to tell him.” Suddenly, Eleanor lunged across the table, grabbing Margot’s arms. Her nails dug sharply into skin. “Once he knows you’re giving him a baby, things will be better. He’ll take care of you.”
Margot twisted in her grip and grimaced. “Eleanor, you’re hurting me.”
Her fingers clung tighter, rabid with fervor. A blotch of spittle stained the veil at her lips as she continued, “Once you become a mother, everything will change. You’ll see.”
“Yes. Yes, I do see,” she lied. “I’ll tell Merrick tomorrow.”
Eleanor’s claws softened, then released.
Margot exhaled shakily, rubbing her arms. “I’ll tell him, but first I need to ask you about Babette. It’s very important. Do you know the name of the man she was sleeping with? Was there more than one?”
“Oh, there were many playthings, but only one ever mattered to her.” Her posture straightened, turning smug. “She never should have married my son, that harlot. Not when she’d already given her heart to another.”
“Who was he?” Margot leaned back in. “Can you tell me his name?”
“Drink up, dearie. You’ve not had any tea.”
“It’s…it’s gone cold.”
“I’ll pour a fresh cup then, shall I?”
Margot picked up an empty one, holding it obediently while Eleanor began to pour. “His name,” she repeated. “Can you tell me his name?”
“They both loved horses, you know. They used to meet in the stables to screw there. She just couldn’t stay away.” Her voice was picking up steam with every sentence. “She was going to leave my son—leave her own son without a mother! Can you believe that?”
Suddenly, the tea overflowed the cup, cascading straight into Margot’s lap. Scalding. Violently hot through the thin cotton of her nightdress. She screamed and leapt from her chair.
“His name,” Margot cried, jumping away as tea streamed over her bare feet. She shrieked again. “Please, Eleanor, just tell me his name!”
“Of course, dearie.” Eleanor tipped her head again, mouth agape. She continued spilling tea over open air. “No need to get yourself so riled. It can’t be good for the baby. Your tea will help, drink up. Now let’s see…the name…why, it’s—”
“Margot!”
Her mouth was open in an ear-piercing scream when Merrick wrenched her from sleep.
“Margot, are you hurt?” He turned over her arms, checking, ripping back the blankets.
“Merrick?” Her eyes fluttered open with surprise. Eleanor and the tea party were gone. She was lying beside her husband in his bed. Her nightgown was dry, not soaked with scalding, potentially poisonous tea.
“Were you dreaming? Did they do something to you?”
It all came rushing back, and with it, the agony of how near she’d come. She’d beenso close.The name, she was convinced, would unlock everything. And if she could unlock the past, she could set them free of it. All of them—her, Merrick, the house.
“I think we should go to Louisville,” Merrick said, nodding as he came to the decision. His concerned eyes swept her face. “For a few weeks. I’ll sort everything out. Julian can manage the distillery while I’m gone.”
“Merrick, stop. Shh.” Margot placed a finger over his lips. “I’m fine. We don’t need to go anywhere. I don’t want to go anywhere. And I don’t wantyou to wake me ever again, not when I’m dreaming. You interrupted a very important discussion.”
“You werescreaming,” he said, incredulous.
“I was fine. I’m more than fine, actually.” She smiled softly and reached for his hands. “I have something to tell you.”
She didn’t know what possessed her, what possibly felt right about this particular moment, but something of Eleanor glowed in her chest, purring when the words came out.
“Merrick, I’m expecting. We’re going to have a baby.”
27
