No Secrets Between Sisters

I set off in the opposite direction from Viscount Cecilia as he brushed past me and receded, walking without thought or destination. I needed to hide myself in some deserted corner of the garden and retch until there was nothing left.

Only when I reached a nameless thicket did I let myself gasp for the breath I'd been holding. The rage I had been crushing down surged up like a burst dam. All the blood in my body seemed to rush to my head; a headache bloomed behind my eyes.

I clenched my fists until my nails bit into my palms and was still enduring it when a familiar voice spoke from behind me.

"I never should have told you to do as you pleased."

Perhaps it was because I turned too quickly. Lyft, in his black tailcoat, swam into view — and then the world tilted.

"My lady!"

He closed the distance in a rush and caught my arm as my legs gave out, his other hand wrapping around my shoulder so I would have something to lean against.

I let myself rest against him for a moment, then shook my head, fighting to clear it. I squeezed my eyes shut hard enough to hurt and opened them again; the white haze over my vision slowly receded.

I pushed away from his chest, and he released me with care.

"I'm fine."

I wouldn't have pitied bait, and I didn't want anyone's pity even if it was offered.

As I struggled to find my balance, long fingers drifted into my field of vision.

"Don't bite your lip."

His fingers lifted my chin, forcing my gaze up. Lyft was looking down at me, his brow furrowed. I only felt the sting when his thumb brushed my lower lip. The scab I'd barely managed to hide with cosmetics had split open again.

I raised my hand, pushed his away, and turned.

I was exhausted. My head still ached. The trailing dress was heavy, and unfamiliar shoes had split the skin of my heels. I had already met Viscount Cecilia; there was no reason to stay. I wanted to go back and rest — but I hadn't taken more than a few steps before I realized I was thoroughly lost.

I must have looked ridiculous, hesitating in the middle of that maze of a garden, because Lyft, who had been following, stepped up beside me. A moment later, my body lifted clean off the ground.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I'll take you to Daisy House."

He answered as he strode forward with me in his arms.

"Put me down. I can walk on my own."

"If you don't like it, you're welcome to scream."

He said it in a cold voice, walking at a tremendous pace. I couldn't tell if he meant it or if he was mocking me.

I squirmed in his hold, but he had no intention of setting me down. I considered actually screaming, then decided against it — I looked pathetic enough already.

By the time I finished arguing with myself, Lyft had left the garden behind. He only set me down once we reached the carriage. He'd scooped me up against my will, and yet the way he placed me on my feet was careful, almost tender. It was infuriating.

What a willful, high-handed rogue.

I glared at him with everything I had. Lyft said nothing — he simply opened the carriage door and offered his hand. I ignored it, of course, and climbed in on my own.

Neither of us spoke on the ride back. Lyft followed me all the way to my room as if he had something to say, then set a pot of ointment on the table and left without a word.

The next day I expected him to show up and demand to know what I planned to say to Viscount Cecilia. He never appeared.

I asked Marianne to dress me as splendidly as the night before, and set out for the viscount's residence.

The same Viscount Cecilia who had been so eager to flee when I'd come in mourning clothes now came all the way to the entrance to greet me.

"I've been waiting for you, sister-in-law."

The greeting, delivered in such a bright voice, nearly made me drive my fist straight into that mouth of his. After what he'd done to my sister, he dared call me sister-in-law. Even shamelessness had its limits.

I swallowed the fury boiling in my gut and arranged my face into a smile.

"How kind of you to welcome me so warmly, Viscount."

Once Viscount Cecilia's attitude shifted, everything else shifted with it. The viscount's butler took my coat with an odd expression. The maid who had been nothing but icy before served tea with perfect deference. A fire burned in the drawing-room hearth, and cookies studded with candied fruit appeared on the table.

I had to work to keep my lips from twisting.

Perhaps because we were on his own ground. Unlike yesterday, Viscount Cecilia made no effort to hide his impatience, launching straight into questions.

"Well then. Shall we begin with the contents of the letter Dorothy supposedly sent?"

I took a sip of tea, pretending to consider. I pressed down the rising nausea with the fragrance of it, then smiled at my leisure and asked in return:

"You knew Dorothy wrote to me often, I assume?"

"I knew the two of you were close, yes. As sisters."

"We were. We… had no secrets from each other."

My throat closed. I drank more tea.

We had been. We two sisters, who had lost our mother so young, had only ever had each other. There had been nothing to hide, and nothing worth hiding — and I, the heartless older sister who never even knew such a terrible secret had taken root between us… had she resented me for that?

I resented Dorothy. Why hadn't she told me anything?

"There is no such thing as a relationship without secrets, sister-in-law. Not between siblings — and not even between husband and wife."

Viscount Cecilia's sour voice broke through my thoughts. The words felt like a probe, and anger flared — but I set my teacup down slowly and composed my face.

"Perhaps. But I always waited for Dorothy's letters. They were always full of astonishing stories. Things happened here that one could never imagine in the Dvorden Barony."

"Things one could never imagine… I find myself curious what sort of stories those might have been."

"I'm sure you know them well, Viscount. Dorothy said she did everything here together with you."

"She… did."

He hid his expression well, but a dozen feelings rose and vanished in his eyes. He was doubting whether I was telling the truth, calculating how much I knew, wondering how to shut my mouth. I drove the wedge in.

The noisy flicker in Viscount Cecilia's eyes went still in an instant. His green irises cooled, degree by degree, until nothing remained but a hostility that could almost be called murderous intent.

"I see. And yet, sister-in-law — why come to me with this now…?"

Beneath the table, out of his sight, I clenched both hands into fists. I steadied myself against the sharp pain of nails biting into my palms.

I had thought it through a thousand times, and I still didn't understand. Why hadn't Dorothy told me anything? Perhaps she had tried. Perhaps she had left careful clues, and I had simply failed to see them. In all those long, lonely hours of suffering — had she resented me, who knew nothing?

If only to understand what kind of mire she had been drowning in, I had to go all the way down. To the very bottom of the bottom.

"The truth is…"

I smiled awkwardly and let the sentence trail off. His eyes, still watchful, swept over my face.

"Dorothy didn't only send letters to the Dvorden Barony, Viscount. The gifts she sent were quite useful — and now that there's no way to receive them, I find myself in rather a difficult position."

For a moment Viscount Cecilia looked bewildered. Then he let out a short laugh.

"Ah. Is that so? How terribly inconvenient for you."

"Which is why I had no choice but to call on you. It's shameless of me, I know — but I had to ask whether you might be willing to continue those gifts."

"Gifts. Gifts, you say. Well now. This is becoming rather awkward for me as well."

"I don't know if you're aware, but since Father passed, the Dvorden Barony has fallen on hard times."

"Now that you mention it, Dorothy did worry a great deal about her family."

Viscount Cecilia kept laughing under his breath, dodging a direct answer.

Countess Heinrich's nonsense had been right about one thing, at least.

A snake of a man.

I'd as good as turned myself inside out, admitting I'd come because I missed the money my dead sister used to send. And still Viscount Cecilia sat there, oily and unhurried, sounding me out.

If pushing produced no reaction, it was time to pull.

"If you won't help me, Viscount, I'll have no choice but to look for another way."

"And have you found one, then?"

"As it happens, someone has offered."

"You haven't already joined hands with him, I trust?"

For the first time, Viscount Cecilia's reaction turned sharp.

If he had used Dorothy to join the 27th Street Club, his standing within it would have narrowed considerably by now. Dorothy, who could steal the prince's favor and bring it to him, was gone. If the Chief of the Imperial Police were to involve himself on top of that, things would become even more inconvenient.

Offering a knowing smile to a viscount whose body was burning with impatience was a nauseating thing — but I gathered my strength once more.

"Would that be necessary? Family matters are best settled among family, after all."

The answer seemed to please him. Viscount Cecilia burst into a loud laugh.

"Hah! Dorothy did tell me her sister was clever — but I never imagined we'd see so thoroughly eye to eye."