She would, Olympia thought as she watched Brant leave, but Lady Letitia was not a woman who would accept her fall from power with dignity and grace. A chill of foreboding washed over her but she fought to ignore it. Olympia told herself it was just a fear of what Lady Mallam was, a cold, evil woman, and meant nothing. She turned her attention to Agatha.
“Let us go to my bedchamber and you can have a bath,” she said as she walked the girl to the stairs.
“Oh, yes, please, that man was diseased,” Agatha said and shuddered. “He had sores on his face and he smelled as if he was already dead but someone had forgotten to tell him to lie down.”
Olympia bit back a grin. There was spirit in the girl. A little time without Lady Mallam looming over her and controlling her life, and the girl would quickly blossom into the woman she was meant to be.
It took awhile to get Agatha clean enough for her own approval. Olympia understood. Even though the girl had not been raped, or even fondled, she had been in the presence of a man who planned to do both. Worse that man had been obviously diseased and anyone would want to be sure none of that infection had touched them. Olympia was not about to explain to the girl that touching was not the way one got a disease like Minden had, at least not simple touch such as a hand grabbing a clothed arm, which was apparently all he had done to Agatha.
“So, Brant is now the true head of the house?” Agatha asked as Olympia helped her get dressed in an old gown of Olympia’s.
“Yes, he has the papers all signed to prove it as well.”
“I hope he chains her up somewhere.”
“To your mother, being confined to the remote countryside, unable to rule over the society she lives and breathes for, will feel to her as if she has been chained.”
“Good.”
“It will certainly make life more peaceful.”
“I think she was a very evil woman. I do not know all she did but I can guess. There were a lot of children that just disappeared while she had the rule over me.”
“Did you tell Brant?” Olympia could not believe he would have ignored such a thing.
“Yes, but I am now sure that all my letters to him were read and any that said anything Mother did not want known or did not like, were destroyed. I would get so hurt and be angry at Brant and he did not deserve it. It was all my mother’s doing.”
There was such fury in the girl’s voice that Olympia wanted to hug her but knew that comforting words and touches would not cure it. Agatha had to mend her own heart. Time without her mother around would help tremendously. A firm but loving companion or governess would also help and she had a few people she would recommend to Brant when he returned.
Just mentioning his name made her shiver but this time it was not from pleasure. Olympia paused in brushing Agatha’s hair and studied what she was feeling. The chill was not leaving, was only growing worse. The brush fell from Olympia’s hand as she realized what that meant. Lady Mallam was not done getting her revenge.
Chapter 17
“I want you, Pawl, to see to what servants are left and make certain none of them can come up behind me. And I think you can probably tell which one of those may or may not be worth keeping,” said Brant.
“Aye.” Pawl nodded. “That I can do. Do we go in now?”
Brant sighed as he stared at the front of the house, one he feared had been irrevocably tainted by his mother over the last few years. He would never know all that had gone on in that house or all that had been bought with money made by the selling of innocents. There had to be some way he could make it new again for it held a lot of the history of his family and he knew he would hate to give it up.
“Yes, best we get this done with,” he finally said.
Pawl, Artemis, and Stefan followed him into the house. Once inside the three of them went off to find whatever servants they could. Brant had to decide where his mother might be.
“Her ladyship is in the drawing room.”
He looked up to see the same young footman who had helped him before. “Have you been told to leave?” he asked, a little surprised for he was certain this was a good man and one he would not mind having in his service.
“No, I was told to come down and go to the kitchens as I told the young man upstairs that there would be a few in there he would be wise to send packing.”
“Go on then. The house will soon be mine alone again and you shall have a job if you wish it.”
“That I do, m’lord. Have to help my family. Have eight siblings, I do.” He sauntered off to the kitchens, obviously more than ready to help in the weeding out of the bad from the good.
Brant made his way to the drawing room. He stepped inside and saw his mother immediately. She stood by the window dressed in a lavender gown that must have cost more than many made in a year, even amongst the gentry. It was elegant, made of the best material and dripping with the most expensive of laces but all he saw was the misery of the children she had sold to pay for it. Just when had she begun to hate children, he wondered, for he had no other explanation for how she could treat the young and innocent as she had.
“Mother, it is time,” he said.