Crystal Heart (ONC 2024)

7: Forgotten Truth

Sitting on a chaise lounge with a heavy blanket laid across her shoulders and a cup of steaming tea wedged between her numb hands, Delilah's gaze was unfocussed, hovering somewhere in the vicinity of her lap while her exhausted mind wandered. As the door to the sitting room was flung open, she jerked into perfect posture, the memories of the shadow creatures and the slow walk back to Frederick's house falling rapidly into place. As Lady Ascott swept into the room, the skirts of her navy gown barely keeping up with her, Delilah attempted a polite smile.

Lady Ascott did not return the attempt.

In the centre of the room, the older woman came to a dramatic stop, her sharp green eyes drilling into Delilah's. Her hands were clasped elegantly at her waist, the very picture of poise; only the twitch of her lip gave her away.

"Stupid girl!" She snapped suddenly, her thin eyebrows crashing down into a glare.

Her admonishment was so unexpected, so loud in the otherwise silent room, that Delilah could not help but flinch away, her shoulder blade knocking against the back of the lounge. The tea in her cup threatened to upend itself in her lap, and she winced as a few droplets made their escape over the back of her hand. Her eye contact with Lady Ascott already broken, she took a sip of tea to ready herself to reply.

Across the room, another cup – this one containing a draught of brandy – was set down firmly on a table.

"Mother." Frederick straightened in his chair, a level gaze trained on the dowager. The word had not been in greeting... it had more edge to it than that.

The dowager did not seem to hear him. "I told you what would happen if you left these grounds!" Her hand swung violently to the side, gesturing to the nearest window, but her poisonous glare remained on Delilah. "But you ignored me and endangered my son with your arrogance!"

Delilah's eyes flashed up, meeting the fire in the other woman's gaze. In her peripheries, she saw Frederick push himself to his feet, but she did not leave him time to address his mother.

"I did not leave the grounds," she said slowly. Her voice shook ever so slightly, and she hoped her audience heard it as suppressed rage, and not the exhaustion that was flooding her from head to toe. "I did not make it that far before I was attacked."

Lady Ascott's parted lips froze in place, whatever criticism she'd been about to voice dying on her tongue. Her anger retreated for a moment, and her eyes darted to her son. Frederick's frown did not waver as he inclined his head at her.

"It's true. Lile was no more than three quarters of the way to the eastern border of the estate when I found her with the..." he swallowed, his eyebrows pinching together... "shadows."

His mother's lip twitched. With controlled elegance, she swept her skirts forwards and perched on the edge of the armchair behind her. When she met Delilah's gaze again, her rage was notably absent, replaced by a bored neutrality as she flicked her fingers towards the younger woman.

"You decided to leave. That must have been enough to lead you to your fate."

Delilah had hardly expected an apology from the dowager countess, but she still had to physically bite her tongue to keep a sharp retort from springing free.

"Then the attack was inevitable," she said, the innocent teacup in her grip bearing the brunt of her stifled emotions as her fingers tightened on the delicate china, "because I had not for a moment intended to stay here."

Judging from the irritation that sparked in the dowager's eyes, even that had been too bold of a response. For a brief second, Delilah's view of the other woman was interrupted, an arm reaching down into her lap and prising the teacup free of her stranglehold. Frederick had crossed the room without her noticing, and as he set the freed china on the table before her, he rested back against the arm of the lounge.