Chapter 9
Richard finally admitted why he never sent Camille home.
Not because of enemies.
Not because of danger.
Because he was afraid of Beatrice.
He said it quietly enough that at first I thought I misheard.
“She threatened to leave me.”
Beatrice laughed in disbelief.
Richard looked at her.
“You did.”
“With our son.”
“Yes.”
Beatrice scoffed. “And that was enough?”
Richard’s face collapsed.
“At the time.”
Mariana stared at him.
“You chose your marriage.”
He did not answer.
She understood anyway.
Richard had been entrusted with Camille’s life. Then his wife demanded he choose between keeping his promise and preserving his own comfortable household.
He chose comfort.
Then spent twenty-six years calling cowardice protection.
Beatrice stood.
“I was not raising another woman’s bastard under my roof as an equal to Sebastian.”
The word hit Mariana visibly.
I stepped forward.
Beatrice smiled at me.
“What? You want honesty.”
“Yes.”
I kept moving.
“Keep giving it.”
Her confidence faltered.
She continued anyway.
“Camille was a Vance princess who arrived expecting everyone to rearrange their lives around her mistake. Richard hovered over her. Staff adored her. Even Sebastian cried when she left a room.”
Richard looked away.
There it was.
Not strategy.
Jealousy.
Beatrice had punished Mariana for the affection people once gave her mother.
“You hated Camille.”
“I hated entitlement.”
“No.”
Mariana spoke before I could.
“You hated that people loved her without being ordered.”
Beatrice’s face changed.
That landed.
Evelyn smiled faintly.
Mariana looked at Richard.
“What happened when my mother got sick?”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“She wanted you brought to her.”
“You didn’t?”
“I did.”
Mariana stared.
That surprised everyone.
Richard continued.
“Three times.”
The cottage memory made sense.
Blueberry bread.
The nickname.
A woman Mariana thought was a seamstress.
“She asked me to tell you.”
Mariana’s voice shook.
“Tell me what?”
“That she was your mother.”
Richard looked at Beatrice.
“She said no.”
Mariana’s face hardened.
“And you obeyed.”
“Yes.”
Simple.
Ugly.
Honest.
Then Evelyn spoke.
“Camille didn’t die at the cottage.”
Richard looked up sharply.
Beatrice went still.
I turned.
Evelyn’s eyes filled.
“She left one night.”
Mariana stopped breathing.
Richard whispered, “That’s impossible.”
Evelyn looked directly at him.
“No.”
May you like
Then at Beatrice.
“She escaped you.”
