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“You showed me what you really thought of me the day you ordered me to marry Lord Chester. I am not your daughter.” Ophelia shook her head. “I was your means to an end.”
Gertrude began to sob, but it was not real crying. She dabbed at her cheeks but, unable to shed those real tears, she turned her face away, hiding her expression from Ophelia.
“You have revealed your cruel heart now, Ophelia. Cruelty, indeed. What would your father say to know how I have been treated?”
“If you wish to make me feel guilty then shed a real tear,” Ophelia said, aware that her voice had become quite cold. Gertrude’s attempt at crying abruptly halted, and she held the handkerchief limply down at her side. “I have shown you no cruelty. None at all.”
“You have!”
“By doing what? By following my father’s wishes? He gave you an annuity, one that is ample. Be satisfied with it and leave me to my own life, Gertrude.” With these words, Ophelia reached for the door. “This conversation is at an end.”
“No, it is not. It cannot be over just like that.” Gertrude followed her through the door. Ophelia didn’t turn back to face her but kept on walking forward, heading through the house.
“The money is bound to another man now, and that man is not your nephew. It cannot be undone. The solicitors have overseen everything.”
“Oh! You worked quickly, indeed. Devious, devious child,” Gertrude muttered, her seething tone suggesting she wanted to use words that were harsher still. “You will quit the life you had with me so easily? You will turn your back on it?”
“I will no more quit it than you did.”
When Ophelia reached the hallway, she found Grace and Mrs Mouser stood off to the side, whispering together. Grace looked quite afraid, hanging her head as Ophelia and Gertrude continued with their loud voices.
“Have no fear, Grace, our rude guest was just leaving us.” Reaching for the door, Ophelia opened it wide and gestured for Gertrude to leave.
“And that is your final word on the matter, is it?” Gertrude asked, her hands splayed out toward Ophelia. “You leave me like this, in poverty?”
“You are not poor.” Ophelia’s eyes went wide. “Use your annuity. It is enough to be very comfortable.”
“And my nephew?”
“The man moves between women as another man would shift between clay pipes. I do not doubt Lord Chester will be thinking of another woman by this evening.” Ophelia gestured to the open door. “Now, take your leave, Gertrude. I will have a carriage sent to the house this afternoon to collect the rest of my things.”
Gertrude turned so red in the cheeks that she almost became purple, but she said no more. She didn’t curtsy at Ophelia, nor in Grace’s direction, for there was no such courtesy left in her manner. Her head jerked away as if not deigning to take notice of them and she flung herself from the house with her pelisse whipping behind her. After she had left, the curses she was muttering travelled back to them on the wind.
Ophelia smiled a little as she stood in the doorway, watching her stepmother leave. Beside her, Grace and Mrs Mouser watched, too.
“Why are you smiling, sister?” Grace asked.
“Because confrontation might not be a pleasant thing to endure, but it is worth it—worth it, indeed.” Ophelia’s smile began to broaden. “I am free of my stepmother, and she cannot force me to do as she wishes now.”
“That was quite something, Your Grace.” Mrs Mouser sighed, as if in awe. “Oh, dear, that lady is getting into difficulty.”
She drew attention to Gertrude, who was attempting to step up into her carriage but kept slipping on her hem in her anger, for she was not looking where she was putting her feet. When she yelled at the poor footman beside her, suggesting it was his fault, Ophelia closed the door.
“I think it’s time we shut the door on this particular part of life.” Ophelia stepped forward, walking into her house, filled with that sense of freedom once again. “So, what shall we do this afternoon?”
***
“What a day.” Elliot sank into the chair behind his desk and shed his tailcoat, dropping it behind him to the floor. With one candle to keep him company, he leaned on the desk, feeling the tiredness overtaking him.
He’d left in the early hours to walk with Harrison before travelling around town and conducting his business. He was on a mission to pay off all of his parents’ debtors, but he had made a special stop before returning home. He’d visited a music shop and requested for a new piano to be brought to the house. It was a good thing, and one that made him smile, especially when he thought of how Ophelia had wanted to use the money for such a gift.
“Ophelia.” He whispered her name aloud.
“Well, this is a good sign. Can you sense me even without seeing me now?”
Ophelia’s words snapped his attention up from the papers on his desk. She was standing in the doorway of his study, leaning on the doorframe with a candle of her own in her hand.
“Goodness,” her amusement seemed to fade a little, “Elliot, you look so tired.”
