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Violette needed no other words. She nodded and moved past the lady’s maid straight into the chamber. The sight of her mother leaned up on the bed, propped there by an abundance of pillows, was too much to take. There was an almost unearthly paleness to her skin, and on one side of her face, there was heavy bruising, with purple and blue marks across her face.
“Mother….” Violette said, gasping in surprise. Rowena turned her head toward her. The move was slow until her eyes found Violette, then she tried to lean up off the bed, her lips parting in wonder. “Please rest, Mother.” Violette ran forward, sitting on her mother’s bed eagerly as Rowena reached out to take her hands.
Violette thought at first that she would fling her arms around her mother but seeing the bruise upon Rowena’s face made her stop. She lifted those hands to her face instead and kissed them, showing how sorry she was.
“You’re back,” Rowena said, her voice hiccoughing as she tried to fight tears.
“I’m so sorry I left.” Violette felt the truth pouring out of her. “I never thought he’d do this to you. Not for one second.”
“I know, dear, I know,” Rowena said, lifting her hands out of Violette’s grasp and pulling her toward her. Violette went willingly, though she avoided the side of Rowena’s face that was so bruised, resting her head on Rowena’s other shoulder instead and holding her tight.
Clutching her mother, Violette felt the strength she had adopted earlier begin to slip away. She was back in this incarnate of hell and she had come here willingly, in order to protect her mother from the demon that occupied this hell with them.
“I’m sorry,” Violette said again, feeling her breath hitch.
“No need for that,” Rowena said, pulling back enough for Violette to see her eyes. “Here, take this.” She produced a handkerchief from her bedside table. “It’s a clean one.” Violette mopped at the tears on her cheeks as her mother used the sleeves of her gown to dry her own tears. “I am just so relieved to see you safe.”
“I should have told you I was well,” Violette said, feeling the guilt weight on her shoulders. “I just thought….” She trailed off, unable to confess her true feelings. She knew very well what she had thought. Her mother was always so willing to give into her father’s ways and assist in that control over Violette, that she had been certain her mother wouldn’t care too much about her disappearance. She was wrong indeed.
“I can well imagine what you thought,” Rowena said, gasping with her cries. “For years I have let your father do as he pleased. The morning you left, I sat on your bed for what felt like hours, thinking over everything. Of course you wished to leave! How could you not? After all that had happened. I…” She broke off, gasping again. “I am the one who should be sorry, Violette. I should have protected you more from him.”
“Let us not talk of that now.” Violette spoke hurriedly. On one hand, she was warmed to hear her mother’s apology, on the other though, she realised how little it truly mattered. To see her mother battered by her father so that the skin around her left eye was swollen. It showed what her father was really capable of. “I should have protected you from this,” Violette said softly, pointing toward her mother’s bruise.
Rowena hung her head forward, letting her hair fall past her cheek, in clear desperation to hide it.
“Is it true you have not left your bed since?” Violette asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I have,” Rowena said. “It’s just that some days are easier than others. Sometimes, I can’t bear to face your father’s anger. He blames me for your disappearance.” Hearing the words made Violette grimace. “Other times I’ve had to avoid guests. If they see me like this…your father wouldn’t be able to bear it.”
“I wish someone had seen you, then they would know what my father is truly capable of. Have you written to Victor?” Violette’s mind was working fast, unable to settle on one thing for very long.
“I have. I told him of your disappearance.”
“Did you tell him of…?” Violette motioned toward the bruise.
“No,” Rowena said miserably. “What good would come to give him that worry?”
“Oh, Mother,” Violette said, hanging her head forward again. Her mother was willing to suffer in order to maintain her brother’s happiness. It made a kind of anger curdle in Violette’s stomach. “I’m so sorry I went. I should not have left you here alone with my father.”
“You did what was best for you, dear.”
“And that was wrong of me. It was selfish,” Violette said hurriedly.
“It wasn’t selfish. It was desperate!”
“Either way, Mother, it will not happen again.” Violette clutched at her mother’s hand until her knuckles turned white from the sheer pressure of it. “I vow I will not leave you now. I will stay by your side.”
“Dear, you are willing to risk this?” Rowena said, her voice taking on a note of concern that Violette hadn’t heard from her before.
“I’ll stand between the two of you if he dares to raise a hand to you again.”
***
Marcus checked his appearance one last time in the mirror before he left the room. Now that he was presentable, he was happy to face his father again. At the top of the stairs, he hesitated before climbing down, seeing Lady Helen and Lady Katherine talking with his father. He bent down behind the banister, hiding his body to have the brief stolen moment of seeing them, without them knowing it.
Lady Helen was indeed beautiful, speaking charmingly to his father. She already seemed to have the Marquess of Whithead wrapped around her little finger, for he was hanging on her every word. Yet as Marcus watched her, he thought back to Lady Violette. Rather than thinking of her as Victor, he thought of the one time he had met her as Lady Violette.
He smiled, thinking of how awfully she had played the piano and how she had not wanted to do it, and then the connection of their gazes across the room. She was more beautiful than Helen, not just because of her appearance, but because of the sincerity that had been in the exchange.
