Read The Madman’s Daughter for Free Online

wondered if that waswhat Father had felt like before he went mad—shattered. The teacup rattled more, and I set it next to the blood-spattered paper. “What do you even want with this?” I nudged the dotted lines that formed a split-open rabbit. I knew it was abhorrent, but my gaze kept creeping back to the black lines, obsessively tracing the graceful arcs of the body.
    “I study medicine. I’m not a servant anymore.” His words were pointed.
    “But this ? Vivisection?” It was hard to talk about these things with him. The corset I had worn under my Sunday dress suddenly felt too tight. I pressed my hands against my sides. I thought of that rabbit, its twitching paws, its screams. Not even science could justify what those boys had done. And I knew Montgomery, deep in my marrow. He wasn’t like them. He had a strong heart. He’d never do something he knew wasn’t right.
    His foot tapped faster and his gaze drifted around the room until it settled on the parrot. His throat tightened. “It was among a collection of documents, that’s all.”
    He’d always been a terrible liar. I studied him from the corner of my eye, wondering. His gaze darted again to the parrot on the dresser, and I stood up and started toward the cage, just wanting to look closer at its iridescent feathers as some sort of distraction from everything that was happening. Montgomery’s eyes were too real, too evocative, too familiar. I didn’t know what to do with myself around him.
    But as soon as I reached for the cage, Montgomery shot up, knocking over the footstool, and beat me to the dresser.His hand closed over a small silver object next to the parrot’s cage. I blinked, uncertain, surprised by his actions.
    “What is that?” I said quietly.
    His fist clamped the object like a vise. His chest and arms were tensed. He’d always been strong. Now he was powerful.
    Curiosity made me bolder. My fingers drifted away from the parrot’s cage and rested a breath above Montgomery’s closed fist. I wanted to touch his hand, feel the brush of his skin against mine, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
    “Montgomery, what is that in your hand?”
    His face was broken with things unsaid. “Miss Moreau …” The title sounded too formal on his lips. Juliet , I wanted him to call me.
    My fingers trembled slightly. “Please. Tell me.”
    Something changed in his face then. He seemed so grown up, but it was all an act. I knew because I’d played the same role for years. But being with him tore down that facade and left me stripped, vulnerable, just like the look on his face now.
    “Don’t be angry, Miss Moreau.” His voice was little more than a whisper. He looked away, softly, and opened his fist. The object dropped into my palm.
    A pocket watch. I turned it over in my hand. Silver, with a gouge in the glass face and an inscription on the back that had all but worn away. It didn’t matter. I knew the words by heart. Thou shalt honor thy father and thy mother . Unlike my mother, who’d maintained her devoutness evenafter becoming a mistress, Father had a scientist’s skeptical fascination with religion. The watch had been a gift to him from his father, a bishop of the Anglican Church. Father had little use for the Ten Commandments, but the inscription was one rule he believed in and expected me to uphold.
    Father had carried this watch every single day. He’d never have left it behind. Which meant either Montgomery had stolen it, or …
    Montgomery folded my hands over the watch, and his hands over mine.
    “I’m sorry. He made me swear never to tell you he was alive.”

FIVE
    T HE POCKET WATCH , M ONTGOMERY explained, had broken. He’d been instructed to have it repaired by a clockmaker in the city and brought to my father along with the rest of the supplies.
    But I didn’t care about his explanation.
    “You lied to me,” I said.
    He dipped his head, avoiding my gaze. “I said I’d heard speculation that he died. That’s true