Page 142 of The Dravenhearst Brides
You don’t get to bloom, to heal, until youstopbleeding. And Margot wasn’t sure she ever had, not really. Hers was a blistering sore, an oozingcanker she couldn’t stop touching because she’d learned to love the answering throb. The pain was protective, kept her from getting too close, from gazing directly into the abyss of the mirror to stare down the ghosts within. From setting them free instead of holding on.
Margot’s vision crystalized. Sharp and clear.
She alone could stop her own haunting. She alone could bury these ghosts.
Ruth yanked Margot’s shoulder, trying to drag her forward. “Get up. Get up, Margot.”
She pulled back, clinging to the door. “Julian’s father…it’s Richard?”
Ruth laughed, a bittersweet cackle tinged with both longing and regret. “I’d never slept with a man in my entire life, you know,” she breathed, remembering. “I had dalliances, true…but Babette was an addiction, one I could never quit. After she died, this ghastly house…” Ruth shivered. “She was so close all the time, yet so far away. And Richard was here. The last thing she touched. The last thing she loved. He was all I had left of her. We slept together, only once, about a month after the funeral. But once was all it took. That’s how it always is with those damn Dravenhearst men.”
Against all odds, Margot smirked, thinking of herself. Of Babette. Of Eleanor. No, conception was never the problem in this house. Fruition was. Blooming.
“I tried to warn you,” Ruth cried, her eyes widening, pleading. “I told you not to sleep with him. I told you not to love him. I tried so many times, in so many ways.”
Margot gasped. “Did you…you didn’t…you wouldn’t…”
Ruth’s eyes turned to steel. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do. I think my darling, dearest Babette has already shown you that secret.”
“Did you poison Merrick?” Margot asked, mind racing. Alastair hadn’t been the only one who delivered drinks at the legislature dinner. Ruth had,at the very start of the night. Two drinks dripping with berries, purple and blue and round.
Evangeline’s garden. The unlocked gate.
“I wasn’t trying to poison Merrick,” Ruth hissed. “I was trying to poisonyou. You and that blasted baby. Merrick has never been a threat to me, a threat to myson, until you came here. Merrick had promised—no more Dravenhearst brides, no more heirs. My son would have been given everything. My son’s bloodline would be the one that lived on. This isourhome.”
“He’s still a Dravenhearst,” Margot said.
“He’smine. I raised him right.”
Margot tilted her head, thinking of Julian’s dastardly charming face. His dark hair and smooth-talking lips. His sweet smile. He didn’t seem so different to her than any of the rest. No more or less deserving, certainly, than Merrick. Margot didn’t know how she hadn’t seen it before.
Or how Ruth didn’t see it now. Amazing how mothers were deluded by their sons.
“What you’ve done is unforgivable,” Margot whispered. No wonder Babette, imperfect though she was, refused to rest. There was so much betrayal here.
Ruth huffed, blowing away a strand of blonde hair that had escaped her airtight chignon. “We’ve reached an impasse, dear Margot,” she said. “I tried to keep these secrets from you. I didn’t want it to come to this, but you’re so full of questions. There’s only one left to answer.” She glanced over her shoulder to where the rope lay coiled on the ground. “Are you going to come quietly, or will you go down swinging like the last Dravenhearst bride?”
48
March 15, 1914
Ruth,
I thought about what you said. I’ll do it, but only the birth certificate. Not the will. I’ll make private allowances, set up an account. I don’t want Merrick to know.
We won’t speak of this again; we’re in agreement on that. Even still, I hope you stay. You and the child will always have a place here.
Hellebore House is yours.
Sincerely,
Richard
Margotwaswellusedto fighting—every day, a war of attrition against her ghosts—but never before had she truly understood what it meant to fight for her life.
Never before had she stared into the eyes of another human and known, with absolute certainty, they intended to kill her.
Ruth seized her.
