Chapter 86 - Eighty Six
The sound of Augusta’s voice, sharp and angry from the hallway, sent a jolt of pure terror through Baron Edgar. His face, already pale, turned as white as a sheet.
"You must hide," he whispered to Delia, his voice a frantic, panicked hiss.
Delia was confused. Why should she hide from her own stepmother in her grandfather’s house? But there was no time to ask. Edgar took her wrist in his trembling hand and, with surprising strength, shoved her towards the large, dark wood wardrobe against the far wall.
The sudden movement caused the small pearl necklace in her hand to slip from her grasp and fall silently onto the plush rug.
He pushed her into the cramped, dark space. "Don’t make a sound," he breathed, before closing the doors, plunging her into a world that smelled of cedar and old wool.
She heard Augusta barge into the room just as Edgar composed himself, turning to face her from his position by the window.
"Oh, hello, Augusta," he said, his voice a little too loud, a little too cheerful. "Your commotion with Preston just woke me up from my nap."
He gestured for her to have a seat and then called out, "Preston, please get the Baroness a glass of water."
Delia pressed her eye to a tiny crack between the wardrobe doors. She could see Augusta looking around the room suspiciously before she sat down, her posture rigid.
"You are sleeping well these days, Father," Augusta began, her voice dripping with a false sweetness that did not match the angry expression on her face. "You must be feeling good."