Lightning Strikes (Hudson 2) - Page 114

"I'm afraid I have some rather bad news. Mrs. Hudson passed away this morning," he told me. "They'd like you to return to their house

immediately."

It was as if my heart stopped and all the blood in my body drained down to my feet. He saw the paleness in my face and quickly seized my arm.

"Are you all right?"

I nodded but leaned back against the wall to catch my breath. It was just like being punched in the stomach without any warning. Grandmother Hudson, dead? No, no, I need her. I wanted to make her proud of me.

"What happened?" I barely managed to utter.

"I don't know any details, I'm afraid. I was just told she'd passed away and asked to send you to Endfield Place as soon as their car had arrived. I do hope it all turns out well for you," he said. "And I'm very upset myself about Mrs. Hudson's departure," he added as if Grandmother Hudson had merely decided to take an earlier train out of this world. "She was a very fine woman, a great lady," he said. "As I'm sure you were well aware."

He walked me to the front entrance. I saw the Rolls waiting with Boggs behind the steering wheel staring coldly ahead. The last place I wanted to go to now was Endfield Place. I just wanted to run far in any other direction. I certainly didn't want to get into that car with Boggs, but I had little choice. As I stepped out, I remembered I was meeting Roy. He would be coming here, looking and waiting for me at the end of the school day. I turned to ask Mr. MacWaine to tell Roy what had happened, but he was already on his way back to his office. There was no way to contact Roy. I was sure he was just wandering about the city. Maybe I could have someone call from the house and tell Mr. MacWaine later, I thought and continued toward the vehicle.

Boggs got out when he saw me and came around to open the door, which surprised me. Training was paramount, imagined. A chauffeur was a chauffeur and a passenger a passenger, even if that passenger was someone like me.

"Thank you," I said and got in.

He said nothing, returned to the driver's seat and we started away. It wasn't until we were well along that I wondered why the Endfields would have sent for me immediately anyway. Why wouldn't they have waited for me to return from school? They didn't know about my real relationship to Grandmother Hudson and I would never have expected them to be so concerned for me.

The answer was obvious as soon as I had entered the house and Leo directed me to the drawing room. Great-aunt Leonora was on the settee, a handkerchief pressed to her face. Great-uncle Richard was seated in the chair across from her. He looked as stern and as formal as ever in his three-piece pinstriped suit, his face filled more with anger than sorrow.

"Have a seat," he commanded, nodding at the settee. I turned to Great-aunt Leonora as I crossed into the room, She lowered her handkerchief, revealing her bloodshot eyes and pale face, swallowed hard and watched me walk to the settee as if she was meeting me for the first time. I guess in a sense she really was.

"What happened to Mrs. Hudson?" I asked as I sat.

My Great-uncle Richard sat up straighter in his chair and glared at me.

"I'll be the one conducting this inquiry," he said.

"Inquiry?"

"Victoria called us a little over two hours ago with all the bad news," he said, stressing all and bad. "It appears that you have been living here under a deception," he said with stinging eyes of accusation. "Almost like some sort of spy planted in our home, disguised as a poor orphan girl who had to work her way through school as a mere domestic, when in reality, you are heir to Frances's fortune now and indeed a blood relative," he said.

Great-aunt Leonora let out a loud wail and sobbed hysterically for a few moments, her shoulders shaking so hard, I tho

ught she might crack a bone. Great-uncle Richard just watched her disdainfully and then finally said, "That's enough, Leonora. Enough!" he commanded when she didn't stop instantly.

Her sobs diminished into gasps like a small engine running out of gas and so did her trembling. She covered her face with her handkerchief and glanced at me.

"There is sadness, tragedy and disgrace, almost in equal portions," he continued. "I don't know where to begin with this ugly mess."

"It wasn't my idea to keep everything secret," I said. "Grandmother Hudson thought that for now it would be best."

"Grandmother Hudson! Oh, dear, dear, dear," Great-aunt Leonora moaned.

"I'd appreciate it if you would refrain from calling her that while you are still here with us," Great-uncle Richard said. "We have been able to contain the embarrassment and keep it amongst ourselves in this house, however I must know immediately who else knows the truth about you. I mean, of course, who else in England? It's not as important in America, but here reputation is more valuable than a large bank account."

I stared at him, trying to decide what Grandmother Hudson would want me to do: just get up and walk out or tell him everything? I decided it made little difference now. It was clear they didn't want me here and I couldn't want to leave any more than I did at the moment.

"My real father for one," I said, enjoying the look of shock on both their faces.

"What's that? Real father?" He grimaced. "I'm talking about here in England," he said

condescendingly as if in England such a father would never exist.

"And I repeat, my real father. He lives here and has been living here for some time."

Tags: V.C. Andrews Hudson
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