Love and Vengeance (Love and Literature Book 2) by Aviva Orr

Author:Aviva Orr [Orr, Aviva]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2023-06-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Drowned, frozen, dead forever!

We look on the past and stare aghast

At the spectres wailing, pale and ghast,

Of hopes which thou and I beguiled

To death on life’s dark river.

—Percy Bysshe Shelley, “Lines”

The walls seemed to be closing in on Ottilie. She no longer knew truth from lie or whom to trust. She’d once thought her life simple, but now she knew that had been an illusion. Since her mama’s death, secrets and lies had started to leak from the carefully patched cracks in her past. But her aunt’s revelation today had been the biggest shock of all. Was it true? And whom could she ask? Mama had taken all her secrets to the grave, and her stepfather—how much did he know?

Ottilie’s chest tightened. She had to get out of her aunt’s house. It was suffocating her. She needed time to think—to breathe. But where could she go? Should she risk going to Albany to find Henry? No, that would be foolish. Women were not allowed at Albany, and the doorman would surely order her to leave. Besides, she doubted her cousin knew anything about her father. He’d spent his early childhood in Germany with his mother and only returned to England to attend boarding school.

Now Ottilie understood the reason behind that decision. Her aunt had moved to the continent to escape the shame Ottilie’s mama had brought on the family. And she’d waited until her sister was good and buried before she returned home. A bitter resentment settled in Ottilie’s stomach when she remembered that her aunt had not even attempted to contact her after her mama’s death. If Ottilie’s stepmother had not been so eager to get rid of her, she might never have known Henry existed.

She could still recall her stepfather’s words when he first told her about Henry. “You know I have always loved you as my own daughter, Ottilie. But you are a grown woman now. You have a job and a life. My boys are infants, and I must consider their futures.” Her stepfather ran a hand through his thinning hair. “This tension between you and your new mama must end. She suffered a terrible ordeal giving birth to our sons and cannot tolerate further stress.”

Ottilie stared at the man she’d adored since childhood. He’d been the only father she’d ever known. She’d thought he loved her, but now she knew that had been a lie, just like his love for her mama had been a lie.

“She is not my new mama, so please don’t call her that again. And you needn’t worry about me disrupting your new life. I will return to Canterbury, and you will not hear from me again.”

“I did love your mother,” he said, “and I do love you. That is why I want to give you this.” He handed Ottilie an envelope containing a black-and-white photograph of two young women. Ottilie turned the photograph over. “Alice and Augusta,” she read aloud the words penned in her mother’s neat script.

“What is this?” Ottilie asked.

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