Again, he hesitated, as this next act was going to be one of the hardest things he had ever done. His stepmother did well to appear saddened, not showing so much as an ounce of guilt. No doubt, she thought herself to be in the clear.
Hudson could not imagine why she had done this. What had driven her. What her goal might be. But he had to believe it was to do with her feelings toward him, some vain sense of revenge and a desire to see him a broken man. If he could just make her understand that there was no need to do this, that he was sorry for whatever might have caused such a depraved action, then there was a chance she would confess. He had to believe there was.
With this in mind, Hudson crossed the room and took a seat by the couch so that he was sitting across from his stepmother. Then, ignoring the rage which brewed inside of him, he reached over and took her hand.
“I have come here to apologize,” he said.
This time, the shock appeared genuine. “Apologize? Whatever for?”
“I was speaking with Florentia earlier and she told me of what the two of you spoke. She explained to me how our relationship...” He shook his head with regret. “How there is no need for it to be so frayed and coarse. What is more, she asked that I see it in myself to mend the bridge that exists between us, a promise made that I want to see through before...” He sniffed. “Before she dies.”
“Hudson—Your Grace...” The woman appeared bewildered. “I appreciate the gesture, but I have no idea of what you speak. I have always thought of you and me as being rather close. Not quite as mother and son, but certainly not as tragic as you describe it.”
“There is no need to pretend,” Hudson said, holding her hand, perhaps a little tighter than what was necessary. “No need for lies or false modesty. I know in my heart how I have treated you. And not just these past few years, but for as long as I have known you.” He made sure to be looking into her eyes as he spoke.
“I always thought of you as a...” He clicked his tongue. “As an imposition. That you forced yourself on my father and into my home. That you set your sights on imposing, for reasons that I assumed to be selfish. That you did not care for my father or me or Elias, that you hated us.”
“I never hated you, dear. Nor did I hate your father.”
“You did,” he said. “I know now that this is...that it was your right to feel this way. Florentia has made me understand that the marriage to my father was not something you sought, but were forced into. And while you tried your best with me and Elias, I never gave you a chance. Our relationship, the gulf which exists between, is one of my own creation. And for that, Caroline...” Still, he looked into her eyes, needing her to see the pain in them. “For that I am sorry, and I ask that you forgive me.”
Please, God. Please, let my stepmother not be the evil shrew I have long since suspected. Let her see reason and have pity on me. And if not me, my wife, who has done no harm.
“Your Grace?—”
“Hudson,” he cut her off. “Please, you may call me Hudson.”
She frowned at that, as if searching for the joke. “That was quite the apology, and truly, I could not be more surprised. Not to mention grateful.” She squeezed his hand back and smiled. “I appreciate the kind words, Hudson, you have no idea how much. I confess, I have noticed that you and I have a tenuous relationship, and perhaps I have not made it any easier on you.”
“No, it is not your fault,” he countered. “It is mine.”
“How about we say it is both of our faults,” she tittered. “And we both promise to work a little harder in the future?”
“I would like that.”
“As would I.” She smiled and gave his hands another squeeze, appearing delighted by the truce.
And Hudson continued to look at her, waiting for her to finally admit what she had done. Surely now, she would? Is this not what she wanted? Was this whole thing not to do with how much she hated him? He bit his lip, refusing to let go of her, still staring into those eyes...
There was no remorse in them, however, and he could tell right away that his apology wasn’t going to be enough.
“I just pray that Florentia gets better,” he continued, now through a clenched jaw because the anger was starting to take him. “She wanted nothing more than to see us work out our differences, and I hate to think she might not live to understand the effect she has had on us both.”
“As do I. Let us both pray.”
“She has always liked you,” Hudson continued, his leg now shaking. “Even when I told her why I felt the way I did, she urged me to try and see things from your side. She fought for you.”
“And I have always liked her too,” Caroline said simply. She didn’t appear sad or distraught. She certainly didn’t look as if Florentia’s health was on her mind. “Hopefully, this trend will continue, for I am sure she will find health soon.”
“I just wish there was something I could do.” His grip tightened further, his stare turning cold. “I am at a point where even if someone had done this to Florentia, if they were to come forward and help put things right, I would not blame them. I just want her to get better.”
“But who would do such a thing?” his stepmother said with a shake of the head. “I cannot imagine. Sadly, this sounds to me like...” She sighed. “Like bad luck.”
“Bad luck?”
“Fate, as horrid as it is to say. Sometimes, terrible things simply happen.”
She isn’t going to say it. She is content to look me in the eye and lie to me while my wife dies slowly at her own hand. I am sorry, Florentia, but in this instance you are wrong. My stepmother is a monster.
