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“I cannot guarantee…”
“In which case, our deal will be at an end.”
“Deal?” She hated the sound of the word.
“I will look elsewhere for an heir,” he said. “One who is a better investment and not a weak failure like her mother.”
“Don’t speak of Mama that way!”
He shrugged. “It is no more than the truth. I can’t help that.”
“It isn’t. She retreats because you are cruel to her.”
He rejected this with a brusque gesture. “Get on with it, girl. My patience is not endless. And so I’ve just told Linny.”
At last, he stepped aside. The spiteful gleam in his eyes told Harriet he knew very well what effect his threats had on her mother. He enjoyed it. She would find Mama in frantic tears, ready to echo Grandfather’s demands in a far more affecting mode.
But her mother was not in her parlor, which was rather a relief. Harriet went to take off her hat, tidy her windblown hair, and gather her resolution before searching further.
She found her mother lying in her bed, deeply asleep, with a fresh laudanum bottle clutched in her hand.
“Mama,” she said, shaking her shoulder.
There was no response. Her mother’s breathing remained steady. Harriet pried the bottle from her limp fingers. It was about half full. Harriet went to the bell pull and jerked it sharply.
When her mother’s maid responded, Harriet held up the bottle. “Do you know anything about this?” Like Slade, she was new to them, hired when they arrived in London for the season to make sure Mama was turned out properly.
“It was full the last time I saw it, miss,” said the maid. Her face showed no opinion.
“Full!” Harriet was appalled.
“She’s taken as much before,” the woman added. “At night, mostly.”
“How do you know? Did you provide it?” If she had, Harriet would see that she was dismissed, no matter what her grandfather thought.
“No, miss. Your mother said her doctor recommended a soother.” The woman’s mouth turned down. “I don’t hold with it myself.”
“No.” Harriet’s fingers closed more tightly around the vial. “I will take this away with me.”
“There are others. She hides them.”
The final three words made Harriet’s heart sink. She met the woman’s inexpressive eyes. It was impossible to tell whether she was a real ally. “Do you know where?” she asked her.
The maid directed her to six of the small bottles, tucked away in various spots around the room. She could not guarantee this was all, however. Harriet searched until she could think of nowhere else to try and found no more.
Her mother slept heavily through all of this. After getting the abigail’s assurance that Mama had slept this soundly before without lasting harm, Harriet took the vials away to her own bedchamber. She put them on a small table, sat down, and gazed at the little glass containers.
Harriet knew laudanum was widely used—for pains, anxiety, even to soothe fretful babies. But she could not think it was a good idea. The drug dulled and deadened the senses. What else might it do? She wondered whether the recent change in her mother’s temperament was partly due to taking it. No, this should not go on. She would talk to Mama and convince her to stop. Her grandfather could not find out; that was out of the question. He would treat Mama even more cruelly.
But would Mama listen to her? Would she give it up while Grandfather continued to bully her?
Harriet rose and began to pace, trying to think what to do. She knew how to survive on the small income they’d had previously. But the capital was gone. Her mother had spent it without consulting her. It was no longer possible for Mama to return to their old life while Harriet went out to find some employment. And in her mother’s current state—pushed there by her grandfather’s spite—even less was possible. Anger at the old man flamed through Harriet. He would not destroy her only remaining parent!
She clenched her fists and paced on. So much in her life had been done without her consent. When she’d been a child, there was no help for it. But she wasn’t a child any longer. She had to do something.
Her school friends would be sympathetic. She and Mama could go and stay with one of them—Ada would be the best choice as she was married now and had her own household. But this was not a permanent haven. They couldn’t live as penniless dependents.
Returning to the chair by the hearth, Harriet gazed into the distance. An idea rose in her mind, sparked by Cecelia’s visit.
