Page 41 of A Lady Most Wayward
‘I’ll see what I can rustle up.’ Mrs Hughes’ gaze lingered on Olivia for a moment. ‘Hyacinth is so like you, Olivia. Stubborn and headstrong. Courageous and brave. Resilient and resourceful. Whatever has happened, she will be smart. She will endure. She will survive to come home, just like her mother. I know it.’
Olivia’s heart wrenched painfully. ‘Thank you, Mrs Hughes.’ She spoke the words with a harsh rasp.
Mrs Hughes cleared her throat. ‘Right. Tea.’ She walked down the hall, her feet clipping sharply on the wood.
For several minutes, Olivia and Philippa sat next to each other on Hyacinth’s bed and flipped through their separate piles.
Most of the letters Olivia had were from an old chum of Hyacinth’s. A young girl named Polly, who seemed frightfully obsessed with lace and crinoline.
‘I had no idea Hyacinth was so close to your brother.’
The blood in Olivia’s veins froze. ‘P-pardon?’
Philippa looked up from her pile, her cobalt eyes creasing with concern at whatever she saw on Olivia’s face. ‘Lord Hardgrave. He must have written her over twenty letters. The first one dates back to when she would have only been seven or eight. He was obviously concerned for her when the two of you disappeared in August, but I didn’t realise they were so close.’
‘Give me those.’ Olivia snatched the letters from Philippa’s hands, recognising the heavy swipe of her brother’s penmanship. Quickly scanning through each letter, first glance would make it seem the relationship had started harmlessly enough. A doting uncle and his devoted niece. But something black and bitter rose in Olivia. ‘He wouldn’t dare,’ she hissed. But as she found the more recent letters, the last one dated only a week ago, it became glaringly obvious that he would.
‘Olivia, your hands are shaking.’
Lifting her eyes from the parchment, Olivia knew she must seem unhinged, but she didn’t care. ‘He has my daughter.’
‘Your brother?’
‘The Crow.’
* * *
As soon as she spoke the words, fear rushed in. Cedric Hardgrave, Lord High Chancellor to the Queen, Duke of Blackmore, and leader of the Devil’s Sons had her daughter. It played like a litany in her head.
The Crow has Hyacinth. I failed. The Crow has Hyacinth. I failed.
And each time it repeated, madness crept closer.
Philippa stood and pulled her fan from a deep pocket. ‘Lord High Chancellor Hardgrave is the leader of the Devil’s Sons?’ She thwacked it against her leg. ‘He is the Crow? The name you refused to give me? Impossible.’ She thwacked it again. ‘He is the advisor to the Queen.’Thwack!‘Second only to her in power over all the bloody British empire.’Thwack!‘If this is true, I would have known.’Thwack, thwack, thwack.
‘This isn’t helping, Philippa.’
Philippa pressed her perfect lips together and stared at Olivia. ‘If you truly believe this, why didn’t you tell me from the start?’
‘Because I didn’t trust you!’ Needing movement, Olivia pushed up from the bed and paced in a tight line to the window and back. ‘You were threatening to throw me in Newgate. You thought I was a deceitful, evil creature. I had no hope you would believe me. And what would have happened to Hyacinth if I wasn’t there to protect her? Cedric would have had unfettered access to her.’
‘Cedric?’
‘My brother. The Lord High Chancellor.’
‘His name is Cedric?’
‘That isn’t the point. I needed to make sure Hyacinth was safe from him. Don’t you see? That is why I did those awful things. Why I was willing to risk those poor orphans. Even if it meant condemning my soul to hell for all eternity. Because I had to do everything in my power to save her from him. He’s a monster.’
Philippa blocked her path to the window, holding Olivia’s gaze. ‘I am used to vanquishing monsters. And we will do everything we can to free her. But I can’t believe Lord Hardgrave is truly as evil as you say.’
‘He is my brother, Philippa. I’ve known him my whole life. And my whole life, I’ve watched him grow darker, more twisted.’ Olivia shut her eyes, wanting to push away the long-buried memories clawing up from the graveyard of her mind. But she needed to convince Philippa of the truth, and facts were the only way to sway the duchess. ‘When I was only three or four, we were in the gardens. I loved seeing the butterflies dancing on the flowers. Cedric caught one, brought it to me, and made me watch as he ripped the wings from its body.’
Philippa stepped closer, but Olivia held out her hand. If the duchess offered comfort, she wouldn’t be able to continue. And she needed her to understand the depths of depravity to which her brother sank. ‘Have you ever heard a cat scream?’
Philippa shook her head, her skin paling.
‘I have. Mother gave me a kitten. On my tenth birthday. A sweet ginger ball of fluff. A week after I got him, Cedric lit his tail on fire because I refused to give him my lemon drop sweets. He laughed as the terrified creature raced through the house. He promised he would drown my cat the next time I defied him. I found the kitten later that night hiding beneath my bed, bound his tail, and made Mother give him to one of the servants.’
