Page 51 of The Dravenhearst Brides
Margot offered a thin smile, grateful to let the matter drop. It would be highly embarrassing to reveal just how inexperienced she still was. Everyone expected something more from her. As a wife, and soon, probably, as a mother. It seemed important to be in on this secret. To be able to navigate the waters of womanhood with an ease that only came from experience.
Experience she simply didn’t have.
Margot sniffed in frustration and turned her head. She gazed over the railing of Hellebore House and into the garden, which spilled over—fittingly—with hellebore flowers. She took a deep drink and closed her eyes.
Ruth settled on the porch swing with a soft creak. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Margot didn’t open her eyes. If she did, she worried they would brim with tears. That was a weakness she simply couldn’t afford. Not in front of a woman with as many hard edges as Ruth.
“Speaking of the past is…well, frankly, it’s rather maudlin. Babette’s marriage has no bearing on your own.”
Margot’s eyes snapped open. Ruth shifted on the swing but said nothing more, only began to rock slowly.
Margot pursed her lips, deliberating how much to share. In her experience, people tended to reward honesty with honesty.
“I’ve seen her,” she whispered.
Ruth halted her swinging. “Who?”
“Babette.”
“That’s…not possible,” Ruth said, shaking her head. “You mean Eleanor, don’t you?”
“Why does everyone keep asking that?” Margot’s eyes sharpened. “Did Babette see Eleanor? Did she talk to her, dream of her?”
Ruth swallowed nervously.
“She must’ve told you,” Margot insisted. “You were her best friend.”
Ruth sucked down the remainder of her gin rickey in one swig, then rose to her feet. “If we’re going to talk aboutthis, I’m going to need another drink.”
“The dreams started a few weeks after we arrived,” Ruth began, clutching her refilled glass. “Babette didn’t…she didn’t realize what was happening at first, didn’t tell me about it until other things started happening too.”
Margot leaned in. “Like what?”
“Odd things.” Ruth furrowed her brow. “Things moving around her room, items Richard certainly wouldn’t care to touch. A hairbrush, her perfume or paints, some clothes…dresses, I believe.”
Margot held her tongue, though she was dying to ask about Babette’s wedding gown.
“It would have been fairly innocuous if not for the dreams. She said Eleanor spoke to her, took her around the manor, showed her things at night. At first, I wasn’t certain I believed her, but then she startedknowingthings, secrets about the house. About Eleanor.
“We ran around the manor playing detective for a spell. I wish we hadn’t—there wasn’t anything good to learn about Eleanor. Herlife was full of sadness.” Ruth shuddered. “She was plagued with miscarriages, six to be precise. One for each magnolia tree lining the front drive. She planted a new one after each loss. She was obsessive about children in a way that made Babette nervous. When she miscarried”—her eyes darted to Margot’s, testing the waters—“Babette insisted Eleanor caused it, that it was her fault.”
“Why did she think that?”
Ruth pursed her lips. “She drank something in the middle of the night. The cup was still on her bedside table when we found her in the morning. The physician said she’d ingested something toxic, and she lost the baby. When she recovered, Babette insisted Eleanor made her drink the tea, that shewantedher to miscarry, that it would make them better friends if she understood.”
Margot read the doubt in her eyes. “You didn’t believe her?”
“I certainly didn’t at first. And Richard…” Ruth blew out a nervous exhale. “Richard was convinced Babette intentionally induced the miscarriage. He claimed she didn’t want the child.” She laughed bitterly. “Well, he wasn’t wrong. That first pregnancy happened so quickly. She wasn’t ready.
“After the miscarriage, Eleanor disappeared,” she continued. “Babette didn’t have any more dreams until she was expecting again, with Merrick. But things were very different the second time.”
“How so?”
Ruth laughed again. “All you had to do was tell Babette she couldn’t have something to guarantee she would make it happen. ShewantedMerrick—possibly because Eleanor seemed determined she couldn’t have him. It was a hellacious pregnancy, worse and worse with each successive month, until Babette was hardly herself at the end. I moved into her room halfway through, tried to keep her safe. She went into labor early, which was a blessing. As soon as Merrick was born, I moved out of the manor entirely. I’d seen enough.” She looked straight at Margot. “If you came here today totell me you’ve seen something, heard something, dreamed something, I’ll believe you. I won’t even be surprised. I stopped letting that house surprise me a long time ago.”
“I’ve never seen Eleanor,” Margot said, biting her lip. “But I’ve seen Babette. I’ve had dreams, and there’s been some…” She trailed off, embarrassed to admit it, avoiding eye contact. “Sleepwalking. A few times. Some things moved around in my room as well.”
