Chapter 32
What had begun as an innocent chase soon devolved into sheer absurdity with Vincent galloping atop Benjamin's back like a triumphant knight while Jim trailed behind, wheezing. An hour had passed, and I refused to believe Millicent had not located her son by now. This was highly suspicious.
I narrowed my eyes, scanning the area for a certain blonde-haired nuisance, only for Vincent to suddenly collapse into my lap. His small body was drenched in sweat. "I want water!" he beamed up at me.
I softened my tone, my fingers absentmindedly combing through his damp hair as I leaned in. "Vincent, dear," I coaxed sweetly, "did your mother send you to me?"
He giggled, a sound far too mischievous for my liking. "Noooo," he sang, then promptly slapped both hands over his mouth.
Ah-ha. Suspicious. Very suspicious indeed.
"Are you quite certain?"
His small frame shook with stifled laughter.
"If you tell me the truth, I shall bestow upon you a lollipop."
That was all it took. "Mother is waiting for me behind that big tree!" He pointed, his tiny finger directing my gaze toward a distant oak. I squinted, my suspicion now thoroughly confirmed.
Can she not simply leave me in peace?
Vincent was unconcerned with my inner grievances. He thrusted his palm forward expectantly. "Lollipop!" he chirped, all too pleased with his own betrayal.
I smiled, all innocence and deception. "Shall I give one to your mother as well?"
"Okay!" He sprang to his feet and held out his hand.
I took it in my own, casting a glance at my other two wards. "Young Lord, Jim, stay close and follow."
"Yes, Mrs. Woodstone!" they chorused.
And thus, with my cane in one hand and Vincent's small fingers curled around the other, I led the procession toward my inevitable fate.
The three of them chattered endlessly, their voices merging into one continuous stream of noise.
I halted in my tracks when we neared the destination. "Stay here." I fixed Vincent with a pointed look. "You shall remain with the Young Lord and Jim. I require a word with your mother alone first."
Vincent beamed up at me. "Okay!"
If only he knew.
Yes, I required a word with Millicent. Likely a string of them, arranged in the most scathing manner possible. A proper verbal thrashing was in order. Curses may or may not be involved, and since I was striving to be a respectable educator, it was best the children did not bear witness to such… passionate discourse.
When I reached Millicent, I was greeted, much to my irritation, with a scene fit for an oil painting.
There she was, seated gracefully on the grass, her back resting against the tree, knees drawn together in a picture of effortless elegance. A warm, wistful smile tugged at her lips as her crimson eyes gazed dreamily toward the sky. Her fingers idly played with one another on her lap, lost in some thought far beyond this realm. The sun, in all its wretched favoritism, bathed her in a golden glow, making her already absurdly beautiful hair shimmer like spun gold.
I scowled. Was she attempting to look ethereal on purpose? Was it some cultivated skill of hers?
Clearly, she had not noticed my presence, for she was still lost in whatever daydreams occupied that irritatingly poised mind of hers.
"Has your mind wandered off to the celestial realm?" I snapped icily, glaring down at her with all the disdain I could muster.
Millicent's head snapped toward me, her crimson eyes widening in surprise before she swiftly rose to her feet.
And just like that, my fleeting advantage of looking down at her was gone.
Now, I was the one looking up. Again.
Curse this towering woman and her wretched ability to ruin every moment of triumph I ever dared to have. Would it kill her to stay seated just a moment longer so I could relish my victory?
"Florence," she murmured.
I did not grant her the grace of pleasantries. "What manner of grand scheme are you orchestrating, sending your child to me?" My words were sharp as I cast a glance back at the children, ensuring they were still where I had left them.
Millicent lowered her gaze, her lips parted slightly.
"Whatever business you have in Torvalis is entirely your own concern, but must you insist on meddling in mine?" My voice dripped with exasperation. "Did I not explicitly tell you last time to leave us common folk in peace? Have your ears suddenly failed you? Have you developed some tragic inability to comprehend plain words? Enlighten me, what precisely is the purpose of sending your child to me? Do you find amusement in this? Is common courtesy such a foreign concept to you? What sort of blasted, undignified conduct is this?"
The questions flew from my tongue like daggers, each one striking its mark. If she had a single ounce of shame, surely she would feel it now.
Vincent darted toward us, his small arms wrapping tightly around Millicent's legs as he peered up at her. "Mother, you look sad. Do not be sad," he said with the simplicity only a child could possess. Then, as though offering the grandest of gifts, he beamed. "The pretty lady said she will give you a lollipop too."
As I observed the two, a rather bothersome thought took root in my mind. The baron had been insistent that I bring the children here, and Millicent was conveniently present as well. He had hired me only after Millicent's intervention on Kyle's behalf, assuming she held some fondness for the Woodstone family. A strategic maneuver, no doubt, securing favor with a duchess before the need should ever arise. Ha. Was this Millicent's ploy to draw me here, or the baron? I sneered inwardly. Must nobles forever amuse themselves by moving us unfortunate plebeians about like mere pawns on their grand chessboard?
I exhaled slowly, reigning in my exasperation. I would fulfill my promise, and then I would take my leave. Perhaps this time, after all I had said to her, she would finally regain her senses and cease haunting me.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out two lollipops. One I placed into Vincent's eager hands. I extended the second toward Millicent. She slowly took it, her fingers barely brushing against mine, light as a whisper.
"I am leaving." I turned at once, eager to depart, for that look in her eyes unsettled me in a way I could not afford to acknowledge.
But then, her voice, soft and frayed, almost breaking, halted me in my steps.
"He is your son too, Florence."
A truth. A simple truth. One I already knew, one I did not need to be told.
I forced my heart into silence, sealing it away from the weight of that fractured voice. Without a word, I gathered Benjamin and Jim and we left before the past could sink its claws into me.