Page 36 of A Stolen Heart

“That’s true.” Aunt Hortense took her niece’s hands and looked into her eyes. “I am sorry. You must remember that I don’t know any of this. It is just something that I wondered about from time to time. I have no way of knowing. I could not tell you my speculations. Besides, what good would it accomplish? Rhea loved you, she was a good mother to you. Why cast doubt when there might not be any reason to doubt? Only my silly suspicions.”

Alexandra sat back, aware of a curious sense of relief. Her aunt’s guesses made sense. She supposed she should have been horrified at the thought that either her father or mother might have had an affair, that she might not be one or the other’s daughter. But after the strange conversation with the Countess this afternoon, such an explanation seemed almost pleasant. It also made more sense than the idea that a two-year-old child had escaped the mayhem that had killed the rest of her family and somehow wound up with Rhea Ward. It would explain her mother’s secrecy and deception. If her mother had happened on a little lost girl, orphaned by the revolution, she could have openly said what happened and adopted her. But if the child was a by-blow of her husband’s or the product of her own illicit affair, she could hardly have admitted it. The strange resemblance to the Countess’s granddaughter could be because the man or woman in question had been some relative of Simone’s.

“Are you all right?” Aunt Hortense went to Alexandra and took her hand. “Have I upset you? I don’t know any of it to be true. It is only guesswork. It may be that I am a suspicious old biddy, and there was nothing odd about your birth whatsoever. Whatever the truth, it makes no difference—you are still my niece, and I love you dearly.”

“You are very kind. I love you, too. I don’t think I am upset…at least, not very upset. This whole day has been so odd, I scarcely know what I think.”

“Perhaps you ought to have a little lie down before supper,” Aunt Hortense suggested. “Put some lavender on your temples and rest. Then you’ll feel just the thing, I’m sure.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” Alexandra had to agree that she was a trifle tired.

She allowed her aunt to shuffle her off to her bedroom and put her to bed, then close all the curtains so that the room was soothingly dark. Alexandra did not really intend to sleep, but she thought that it would be restful to close her eyes and drift for a few minutes. She did not realize that she had fallen asleep until an hour later, when a loud screech brought her fully awake. She sat bolt upright and scrambled off the bed. Her first thought was that something had happened to her mother, and it was toward her room that she ran. The sound of a maid’s frantic voice confirmed her fear.

Alexandra burst into her mother’s bedroom. One of the maids was kneeling on the floor beside a prone body. Icy fear stabbed Alexandra before she realized that the brown head was not her mother’s gray one.

“What happened?” she asked, hurrying forward and dropping down beside the girl.

The woman on the floor was Nancy. There was blood matting her hair. Alexandra drew a sharp breath and leaned closer. Good. At least she was breathing. She turned to the girl beside her and asked again, more sharply, “What happened here?”

“I don’t know, miss!” The girl looked terrified. “I just came in to dust, and I found her like that. I let out a scream, it scared me that bad.”

“I can imagine. Well, obviously something hit her on the head.” Alexandra could hear steps pounding down the hall. No doubt Aunt Hortense and the other servants were running toward the scream, as well. She glanced around the room. “Where is my mother?” Panic began to rise in her. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know, miss. She’s gone.”

“She can’t just be gone,” Alexandra snapped.

“I don’t know, miss. But maybe she, well, ran away. I mean…” She looked at the still figure of Mrs. Ward’s companion. “I reckon Mrs. Ward’s the one who hit her, and now she’s run away.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

A FEW SERVANTS CAME RUNNING INTO the room, having heard the maid’s screams. Alexandra sent them in search of her mother, then she had two footmen pick Nancy up and lay her on the bed so that she and Aunt Hortense could tend to her. The servants soon reported that they could find no trace of Rhea in the house or around it.

“Where could she have gone?” Alexandra asked, worried. “Why would she have left?”

Aunt Hortense, busy washing the blood from Nancy’s head, did not answer. When she washed the blood away, they saw with relief that the wound was not as serious as it had first looked, only a small tear that had bled copiously. Beneath it a large knot was forming.

“Thank God. With luck she’ll have nothing worse than a bad headache.”

Nancy groaned and moved her head on the pillow, and a moment later her eyes fluttered open. She glanced around blankly, then closed them again. “Ow. My head.”

“Nan? This is Hortense. Do you remember what happened?”

Nancy frowned, then her eyes flew open and she shot to a sitting position. “Miz Rhea!” She let out a groan and sank back.

“It’s all right. Don’t try to sit up, you’ll only make yourself feel worse,” Aunt Hortense advised her.

Nan nodded weakly. It was obvious from the pallor of her face that she already felt worse.

“Just tell us what happened,” Alexandra urged. “Where is Mother?”

“I don’t know, miss. She was acting so strange. She kept wanting to leave, said she had somewhere to go, that she had to see ‘them.’ I kept asking who, but she wouldn’t say, only ‘them.’ She was fair discombobbled. Ooh, I feel sick.”

“Janey, fetch her a pan,” Aunt Hortense ordered one of the maids who was hanging at the foot of the bed, watching. Aunt Hortense fixed them with a gimlet eye. “After that, you may leave.”

Reluctantly the servants obeyed her. Alexandra held the pan for Nancy, but after a moment of hanging over it, Nancy shook her head and sank onto the pillow. “I’m all right now, miss. I’m sorry.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “I didn’t watch her close enough.” Her voice rose in dismay. “I never thought she’d hit me.”

Alexandra’s stomach tightened. Even though it had been obvious that must have been what happened, it was horrible to hear it. “I’m sorry, Nan. I never would have thought so, either. Why did she do it?”