Becoming Countess Dumont (13 page)

What did I say?

The punching bag swings back toward me, and I pummel it some more with my fists, which are wrapped in the cloths I use for boxing. I’ve lost myself to my actions so much that I don’t realize that someone has entered the room until a voice speaks.

“So this is what you do,” Alcott chuckles. “What? The wife make you angry? Need to take it out on the bag instead of Edith to keep up appearances? We all know your wedding is a farce.”

I whip my head up and sweat flings off my hair with the action. “Our wedding is not a farce, and I would never strike my wife.”

“I’m only teasing, brother.”

But he’s not and we both know it.

“Why are you here?” I snarl.

“I wanted to discuss a matter of business with you,” he begins. “Since, clearly, you’re sticking to your story about Edith and you being happily married, then we need to discuss alternatives.”

“Alternatives to what?” I grumble as I begin punching the bag again.

“To your inheritance, of course.”

I pause and stare at him, incredulous. “Father is doing quite well, it would seem. I won’t be inheriting anything for probably another ten years or more. Why is it that you’re so concerned about my inheritance? Do you wish to off me in my sleep and run away with my bride?” The very idea of him touching my wife has me clenching my fists.

“Edith? No. Offing you? Maybe?” he says in jest. His dark orbs twinkle with mischief, and I’m reminded of when we were children—when I actually liked my little brother.

“Get to the point, Alcott. What is it that you want?”

“I’m weary from waiting on an inheritance on which I may never have my hands. I am still young and have my life ahead of me. I don’t want to wait on this estate for half of my family to die. Instead, I want to go abroad, much like you did, and enjoy the world. I’ve even approached Father about lending me some money to start my own business in London. However, he’s made it clear that my place is here on the estate and to not bother him again about the matter. So it is my desire to create my own future, because the one destined to me as a second-born is bleak.”

I fold my arms across my bare chest and glare at him. “How does this involve me? I just told you I’m not receiving my inheritance for at least another decade.”

He smiles. “I overhead Father speaking to Mother about gifting you and Edith some of your inheritance early so that you may start a home of your own. It is in honor of your wedding that they would bestow such a gift. My request is that you lend me a portion to start my company. You could be the sole benefactor, and once I begin making my earnings, I could pay you back with interest.”

His desires seem genuine, and I ponder his words.

“So, that’s what this is about? You’re not set on destroying my marriage to Edith to ruin me in front of Father?” I question in disbelief.

He frowns at me as if he’s disappointed. “Brother, you think so ill of me. I’m not as cold and calculating as you would believe. I have desires and wishes for my future much like you do. It is my hope to find a wife to love and bear my children one day. I think I deserve a happy life, too, despite my birth order. Staying on this estate until the day I die makes me feel as if I’m a caged animal when I was born to run free.”

“I suppose that, if Father were to gift me the money, we could make arrangements for you to borrow a portion of it,” I agree with hesitation. “But if this is some ruthless trick, I swear to you, Alcott, I’ll kill you. I’m finally at peace with my life now that I’ve found Edith. I love her, and I don’t intend on losing her or my rightful place in this family.”

His face breaks into a grin. “No tricks up my sleeve, Alexander. Thank you for your generosity. I promise to not fail you, and you’ll soon have the return on your investment plus a healthy interest payment.” Then he gives me a nod and strides from the room.

Is it possible that, finally, I may relax in this life? That, finally, I have more than I could ever ask for? Something deep inside, though, begs me not to let my guard truly down. Everything seems too perfect—Alcott’s attempting to befriend me, my parents’ accepting Edith so easily, and my loving Edith.

What happens if it all comes crashing down on me?

The very thought of losing Edith causes rage to bubble in my chest. I proceed to pound the bag as if I could absolutely beat my insecurities into submission.

“YOU MISSED THE SUNRISE,” MA
chides as I step out onto the porch.

My gaze travels along the expansive deck that overlooks the river and eventually lands on Ma and Elisabeth, who are sitting at a small table. Elisabeth avoids my gaze as she sets to stirring her tea as if she doesn’t even realize I’ve arrived.

“I’m sorry. I, uh, was tied up with Alexander,” I stammer out.

When I finally meet Ma’s stare, she’s beaming at me. “That boy has a way of demanding one’s attention. You should have known him when he was two and then again when he was in his teen years,” she chuckles.

I grin, imagining a small boy with a mop of messy, brown hair, wearing suspenders, and tugging on his mother’s dress as he begs her for a lollipop. It reminds me of his words—that he wants me to bear his children. The very thought of sweet, little boys who look just like Alexander running around is almost as satisfying as it actually happening.

Almost.

Now, I crave the real thing more than anything.

“I do apologize,” I say as I sit between her and Elisabeth. “Lissa, we missed you at supper last night.”

She finally looks over at me and nods. “I was ill. Do forgive me.”

When she looks back down, I sneak a glance at Ma, who is observing our exchange. I feel as though this breakfast will be uncomfortable, and it’s confirmed when Ma bluntly calls out the obvious unease between my sister and I.

“My sister, Magdalene, and I were very close. In fact, I helped deliver her first child when her husband was away on business. She was my confidant and my friend. Even after we both married, we spoke often and drove our husbands mad with our incessant giggling.” She smiles at the memory. “But then, one day, we had a disagreement. She accused my Alcott of forcing himself on her daughter. My boys were as rowdy as they come, and I can always sniff out their lies, but Alcott was adamant that he wouldn’t do such a thing to his cousin. As it turns out, my niece was seeing a boy of whom her father didn’t approve. When they caught a glimpse of a man sneaking out her window, she threw herself into hysterics and claimed it was my son. Of course, they had her examined by a doctor and discovered she was no longer a virgin. They had taken her word without considering there could be an alternative story.”

Elisabeth and I are both completely enraptured in her story, and we wait for her to continue.

“Our families were divided. I stood by my son’s word and she hated me for it. Two years went by and we didn’t speak. When I would see her in town and attempt to approach her, she would glare at me and take off in the other direction. Eventually, I gave up on attempting to clear my son’s name.”

“So, you lost your sister over a misunderstanding?” I blurt out. I know that Elisabeth hates me for what I’ve done, but not ever speaking to her again breaks my heart.

When I risk a glance at my sister, I find her eyeing me warily. So I smile at her in such a way that begs for forgiveness. We hold each other’s gaze until Ma speaks again.

“Nearly, darling. It wasn’t until my niece turned up pregnant by the boy her family disapproved of. The very idea that she was carrying the child of a simple man who worked at the mill despite their own family’s higher social class was the talk of the town. I felt bad for them and sent my sister a letter. In the letter, I reminded her that we were still sisters and, if she needed someone to confide in, I was still here.”

“What did she say?” I question.

Ma purses her lips together. “She wrote back and told me that she was thankful for the sentiment and the offer but she had to decline. There was also a small apology stating that her daughter finally came clean and confessed that the boy from the mill was her only lover. Alcott never touched a hair on her body, much like I already knew.”

“So you two forgave each other and worked through your problems,” I state with hope filling my voice.

Ma glances at Elisabeth and then at me. Her eyes fill with tears before she blinks them away. “No, that was not the case. I’d been planning to visit her in an attempt to rekindle our relationship. It was as I was packing that I was informed of the fire.”

I gape at her, and when I turn, I see Elisabeth doing the same. Out of habit, I reach across and take my sister’s hand to comfort her. She accepts my hand, and I squeeze it.

“Dear girls, the fire consumed her entire family. Later, it was determined the boy from the mill was so distraught that her family had refused to let her marry him. In an effort to eradicate them so they could run away together, he burned their estate to the ground. But he hadn’t expected my niece to be inside, as she was supposed to be waiting for him at his home. At the last minute, she had gone to warn her family and was taken by the fire as well. The boy from the mill took his life that night. It was all a tragedy.”

Elisabeth and I can no longer hold our sobs in. She clutches my hand, and it reminds me when I had to hold both her and Ella for countless nights after our mother died.

“My point, beautiful girls, is that no grudge is worth holding on to. I loved my sister, and events put a wedge between us. But they weren’t events that were more important than the love we shared. We made mistakes, but in the end, I still loved her. And I know she loved me. Our last moments were stolen from us, and I’d do anything to get them back. Elisabeth, I’m sorry for what Edith has done to you. It may seem unforgiveable, but it’s not. She is your sister.

“Edith is very much in love with my son, much like you are with Jasper. The William you told me of earlier was just as much to blame. I know that the betrayal you feel from your sister is too much to bear. Believe me—I was in your shoes. However, it is mud in the water now. You two still have the rest of your lives to mend this relationship. Soon, you’ll have babies, and it will be important to have your sister’s support. Please promise me that you’ll learn to forgive and let love back into your heart.”

Ma is simply an angel.

I turn toward Elisabeth and tearfully state my piece. “Dear sister, I am so sorry for what I did to you. It was awful, and I’ll always feel the guilt of it in my heart. But know this—I never stopped loving you. After Mother passed, I wanted to protect you and care for you like she had. Clearly, I fell short and lost my way. Please give me another chance. I’m not the same person I was during those times. When Mother died, a piece of my heart became jagged and ugly. Alexander has helped mend my heart. I want you to know that I am truly sorry and I want nothing more than your forgiveness, Lissa.”

Elisabeth sniffles and dabs her red nose with her handkerchief. “You broke my heart, Edith. I looked up to you.”

I nod. “I know and I’m so sorry.”

She purses her lips together but finally flashes me a small smile. “I have been bursting at the seams with wanting to tell you all about this pregnancy. It was my hope that we could shop together and find things for the baby. Each time I go to speak to you, I have to remind myself I’m angry with you, and then I’m only angry with myself. I’m tired of fighting. I want my sister back.”