hink things through, girl.”
“Richard is only happy that he doesn’t have to bed me,” I tell her. “You know he’s a monster who prefers little boys and his sister. I don’t know if Eleanor knows yet. She certainly hasn’t said anything to me.”
“Then she doesn’t know yet,” mother says wisely, and I have to agree. Eleanor would certainly never be silent about such a thing. “Woe to you when she finds out.”
Maternal ferocity must be innate though, because I don’t care. I’m not scared of Eleanor, not when it comes to my child. I’d kill to protect him. I’d die to protect him.
My mother sees it on my face and she shakes her head. “You’re so foolish,” she says limply, and that’s probably true.
“I told you not to get involved with him,” my mother adds. Her I-told-you-so’s are always annoying, and this one is no different.
“You always have an opinion,” I reply. “It’s hard to know when to listen. And honestly, I wouldn’t change a thing. I love him. I loved him. I’ll love his child.”
“I hope it was worth it,” my mother says and her eyes contain a million meanings.
“It was.” I’m confident and unwavering in that. “You were the one who introduced him to me, if you remember. I don’t know why you’re lecturing me now.”
“I introduced you to him because I thought you needed a friend,” my mother replies. “Not because I wanted you to fall in love with him. Life at Whitley can be hard. I wanted you to have a safe haven. I didn’t want you to risk your future.”
I don’t answer.
“Well, I’ll try to manage this,” she tells me, against my protests.
“I don’t need you to interfere,” I tell her, and I mean it. “This is my baby. That’s the way it is.”
“I see the way it is,” she answers. “And I see the way it will be. I see far more than you, young one. You’ll have to trust me.”
With the glint in her eye though, I’m not sure I can. Not with this.
* * *
“How dare you, you little harlot?”
Eleanor Savage can be just like her name implies. Harsh and unyielding. She stares at me now in the privacy of her study, and she’s furious.
“My son told me of your indiscretion,” she spits. “And while he is not concerned, the same does not apply to me.”
She doesn’t mention the reason why Richard is not concerned, because she never will. It is something that is not spoken of, not acknowledged.
I lift my chin. “We weren’t yet married when this occurred,” I tell her. “I committed no indiscretion.”
She lifts an eyebrow. “You’ve been engaged to my son for a year. You are an adulteress. I thought, at the least, your word could be trusted.”
She has a point, but the outlying facts tip the scales. “Your son doesn’t truly want me,” I tell her delicately. “And you know why.”
Eleanor shifts her gaze, staring out the large windows.
“That matters not,” she sniffs. “You gave your word. You are his wife. That means something, Olivia.”
“I will not disgrace the Savage name,” I finally answer. “You have my word.”
“And your word has proven to be unwavering until now,” Eleanor snaps. I almost flinch.
“This does have its uses though,” Eleanor finally admits, without lowering her nose. “Richard needs an heir. Until Laura marries, this child is the only one.”
I can tell that she doesn’t know about Laura’s plans yet, and Lord help me, I won’t be the one to tell her. Laura must escape this hell.
“You will keep this child on the estate until we ascertain what it will look like,” Eleanor demands. “We will not give anyone the chance to speak ill of us. You will raise him to be a Savage, and you will respect our traditions and beliefs.”