Salome’s shriek brought Mrs. Vance and the household staff running, and soon a crowd had gathered at the bedroom door.
Edith lay pinned to the bed, Salome’s furious hands tightening around her throat, the air slowly vanishing from her lungs. In desperation, Edith’s eyes darted to Beckett, who had been shoved aside and was still frozen in shock.
“H… help…”
Her barely audible plea did nothing to rouse Beckett.
Thankfully, Mrs. Vance finally pushed through the onlookers and hurried over. For a split second, Edith thought her mother–in–law had come to rescue her. She couldn’t have been more wrong.
Far from helping, Mrs. Vance shielded Salome protectively, her voice full of concern, “Salome, your pregnancy’s been fragile from the start. Don’t let yourself get worked up over something like this!”
Edith’s face flushed deep red as she struggled for breath, not a single sound escaping her throat.
Mrs. Vance hovered over Salome, her only concern for the precious life growing inside her. Edith’s suffering might as well have been invisible.
A cold wave of despair and resignation washed over Edith.
Just as her vision began to swim and she thought she might lose consciousness, Beckett finally snapped out of his stupor. He rushed over and pulled Salome off the bed, cradling her as if terrified that any harm might come to her unborn child.
Mrs. Vance hovered anxiously beside them, guiding Salome into a chair and fussing over her. “Salome, are you alright? Is your stomach hurting? Do you feel anything strange?”
Edith gasped for air, weak and trembling, her gaze drifting to Beckett.
But Beckett’s focus was entirely on Salome.
Mrs. Vance’s worry seemed to remind him of something. He turned to Salome, his voice tense, “Salome, are you sure you’re okay?”
Salome’s eyes were wide with outrage, her cheeks streaked red with anger. She jabbed a finger at Edith. “How dare you try to seduce your brother–in–law? I have never seen anyone so shameless! If I lose my baby because of you, it’ll all be your
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fault!”
As she spoke, Salome dissolved into tears, collapsing into Beckett’s arms, her sobs raw and agonized.
Just outside the bedroom, the servants whispered among themselves, every word a condemnation of Edith.
“How could she do something so disgraceful? We all thought she was so devoted to Mr. Beckett…”
“His body’s barely cold, and she’s already doing this? How does she live with herself?”
Mrs. Vance turned to chase the gawkers away. “What are you all staring at? You’re paid to work, not to stand around gossiping!”
The crowd scattered, leaving the room in tense silence–except for Salome’s heart–wrenching cries, which seemed even sharper in the quiet.
Eventually, exhausted from crying, Salome looked up at Beckett with big, watery eyes. “Beckett, it was her, wasn’t it? She tried to seduce you, didn’t she?”
Beckett’s heart twisted at the sight of Salome’s tear–streaked face.
Salome had finally conceived. As long as the baby was born safe and sound, he could end all of this and find his way back to Edith. Nothing could go wrong now.
He gently patted Salome’s shoulder. “Don’t upset yourself, Salome. Edith just had too much to drink and got confused. She misses Beckett so much, she thought I was him.”
Edith bit down a bitter laugh, her eyes fixed on Beckett as he comforted Salome.
So that was her story–drunk and confused. How convenient.
Even with Beckett’s explanation, Salome wasn’t satisfied. She turned to Mrs. Vance, her voice trembling with wounded innocence. “Mom, I finally managed to get pregnant, and now someone’s trying to ruin it for me. If anything happens to the baby, don’t blame me–blame the one who caused all this trouble.”
She shot a pointed look at Edith, sprawled weakly on the bed.
Mrs. Vance, éver the skilled peacemaker, knew just how to smooth things over. She folded her arms and fixed Edith with a frosty glare. “Edith, your sister–in–law isn’t being unreasonable. Get up and apologize to her, and let’s put an end to this nonsense.”
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Chapter
Edith forced herself upright, her lips bloodless but her spirit unbroken.
She gave a cold, mirthless laugh. “Me? Apologize to her?”
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.