39. Chapter 39
After a seemingly unceasing whirlwind of visitors to the castle, between the locals, answering the bells, the physician, summoned to see to Sterling, and the magistrate, who promised to return on the morrow after he glimpsed Sterling’s condition, all was quiet and calm.
Sterling lay, bathed, and mended to the best of their abilities and sleeping in his large bed, thanks to whatever the doctor had given him.
At his bedside, Annabelle and Caroline sat vigil in armchairs they’d dragged close.
Downstairs, the tall clock chimed. Nine o’clock. Was that it? It felt as if it should be midnight.
Annabelle eyed Caroline. She had discerned much, but she still had so many questions.
Caroline sent her a weary smile. “You want to know about that night. About what happened.”
“If you would rather wait, I understand. I’ve probably caused enough trouble for one day.”
The dark-haired woman snorted softly. “You did nothing of the sort. And it is past time for you to learn the truth, if that is what you truly desire. I must warn you: You will find the events that took place, specifically, the actions of your brother, disturbing. Are you quite certain you wish to know the details? I wouldn’t blame you if you preferred to remain in blissful ignorance. ”
She shook her head. “I think…I think I need the truth. I’ve lived my entire life trying to convince myself that things concerning my brother”—she pressed her lips together, briefly—“and my father, are not as they appear. Many times I’ve berated myself, ashamed of the terrible things I believed of them, as if I was the guilty party for thinking them. ”
“I see.”
She glanced at Sterling, touched his bared shoulder. “Not all of us can be blessed with a knight in shining armor for a brother.”
“No, I suppose not,” Caroline said with an indulgent smile. “Very well. I’ll tell you. On the night in question, six of us were to go to the opera and then on to several different soirees. My parents, your parents, Gaston, and myself.
“But, earlier in the day, Gaston and I had a row. He…he’d increasingly shown a side of himself I did not care for in the slightest. But I tried to convince myself I was exaggerating his faults.”
“Like me,” Annabelle said.
“When you said you’d done that, I knew exactly how you felt. Sterling, of course, had told me who he saw when he looked at Gaston, and I suppose a part of me wanted to prove him wrong. And then there was the whole ordeal of facing a scandal should I call off the wedding.
“In the end, however, my common sense won out. I told Mama I planned to end things with Gaston and was trying to figure out the least damaging way possible. I think that afternoon, something I said must have clued him in.
“When he arrived with his—your--parents to collect us he was extraordinarily polite, doting on me, complimenting not only myself, but my mother. And then, before we left, I went up to my chambers to collect my reticule. To my surprise, he followed me.”
“He did?” Annabelle said in utter shock. “But that’s…hardly proper.”
“I know. As I told him. He laughed it off, saying he wanted to imagine me in my private chambers at the end of the day. Something to that effect. In any case, he got a good look before I shooed him. Then I took a moment before descending the stairs, to steady my nerves after he’d startled me.”
She gave Annabelle a long, steady look. “My new maid was there. She was a funny little thing. Sweet. Young. Enchanted with all things pretty and fashionable.”
The hair on Annabelle’s nape rose on end.
“Before I departed she told me to be careful. She told me she did not like the look of my intended. Can you imagine? A ladies’ maid speaking out of turn like that? But I allowed it because I could see she was truly worried for me, and after all, I had already made up my mind to end things.”
Annabelle swallowed. “What happened?”
“Just before intermission, Gaston slipped out to gather refreshments, and I made up my mind to leave. I could not keep up the pretense. I asked Mother to make my excuses and she agreed. As we had taken two carriages, ours and theirs, we decided I should take ours home and my parents would either ride home with them or hire a hackney, depending. I slipped out, called for ours. It took an exceeding amount of time, oddly. The groom blamed the crowds. But later, I wondered.”
Annabelle said nothing.
“The house was quiet and dark when I arrived home, save for strange thuds coming from upstairs, almost as if furniture was being rearranged. I ascended the stairs with caution, but as I reached the landing, I soon realized the thuds were coming from the vicinity of my chamber.”
Caroline’s lip began to quiver. Annabelle reached for her hand and squeezed.
“When I entered my antechamber, all seemed well. Then I heard sounds coming from my bedchamber. I ran to the door, threw it open. And what I observed shocked me to the core. The chamber was in disarray, and Gaston was there, on top of my maid. She was struggling and he was…attempting to have his way with her.”
“Saints preserve us,” Annabelle breathed.
“It turned out, he’d arrived earlier than I, and had slipped into my chamber to await me.” She swallowed. “But Babette had a bad feeling, so she went to investigate, and he attacked her instead.”
“Babette,” Annabelle choked-out, tears leaking from her eyes. “Dear Babette.” She was not surprised, having begun to suspect the maid’s identity. But hearing it confirmed was like a knife to her heart.
“Shall I go on?” Caroline asked.
“If…if you feel you can. If it is not too painful.”
Caroline nodded. “I want you to know the truth.”
“I’m listening,” she murmured, trying to convey her love with her eyes.
“I grabbed the first thing I could find—a candlestick off the mantel—and I hit him with it.”
“I understand. You had to. You had to save Babette.”
“I am not finished. He must have heard me, and somehow anticipated my swing, because he turned and the candlestick only glanced off of his shoulder. That’s when he came after me.”
Annabelle gasped. “My God. How utterly terrified you must have been.”
Caroline closed her eyes. “He leapt for me, and I ran. I’d barely made it into my antechamber when I heard the crash.” She opened her eyes and met Annabelle’s gaze. “Annabelle, his trousers were down. They must have tripped him. He fell, hard. His head slammed on the hearthstone, and he bled out.
“So you see, I know a thing or two about carrying the weight of taking another’s life,” Caroline said, solemnly.
“No. No that’s not right,” Annabelle insisted. “It wasn’t your fault. It was his.”
“It was his,” came a croaking voice from the bed.
Annabelle and Caroline’s gazes shot to Sterling.
“My sister came to me for help,” he went on, his eyes slitted open. “I orchestrated the clean-up, saw Babette and Caroline to my apartments, and summoned a physician for the maid. Then I delivered Gaston to his apartments, making every effort to be seen and heard doing so.”
Annabelle shook her head as if she could erase the past. “He was a monster. A monster. A part of me knew. But not the extent. I swear to you.”
“How could you have known?” Caroline asked. “You couldn’t. And I wouldn’t have wanted that for you, in any case. What could you have done?”
Annabelle looked between Caroline and Sterling, who regarded her very steadily.
“And my father?” she asked.
Sterling held up his hand. “Can we, please, continue this discussion tomorrow when I am feeling somewhat more human? I would like to explain the letter you found.”
“You found the letter?” Caroline asked.
Annabelle nodded. “I…snuck out to read it. It’s what alerted Lord Vane to my presence, I’m afraid.”
Sterling groaned.
“Are you all right?” Annabelle demanded in alarm, leaping to her feet and bending over him. She smoothed her palm over his forehead as gently as she could. He was hot to the touch.
He laid his hand over hers, and gazed up at her. “Caroline, would you mind leaving us for a moment?”
Annabelle glanced over to apologize and was surprised to see the chair where her sister-in-law had been was already vacant. Then she turned to see the bedchamber door closing, softly.
Annabelle crouched at Sterling’s bedside.
“No, lie beside me. I wish to say something, and don’t wish to see my wife on her knees. Leastways, not in this capacity.”
Already doing as he suggested, she hesitated. “Whatever does that mean?”
His mouth tried to curve into a smile, then he winced as one of the cuts he’d acquired in the brawl split anew. “Never mind,” he murmured, shifting to pull her into his arms.
“Oh, Sterling,” she murmured, snuggling into him. “I was so afraid. Whatever were you thinking taking on three goons by yourself?”
“I was thinking that they’d hurt my wife. I was thinking I wanted to kill each of them, slowly.”
“But…” She lifted her head to gaze at him, a wobbly smile pulling at her mouth. “You don’t believe in that sort of thing.”
“It turns out, I do, when my wife happens to be you. Annabelle, I got your note.”
Heat rushed up her neck and into her cheeks in the span of one heartbeat. “Oh.” She shoved her face into his pillow. “You weren’t supposed to see that until after I left.”
“Then perhaps you should have placed it inside the desk rather than on the floor,” he murmured.
“Oh, dear. I don’t recall dropping it.”
“Probably because you were distracted by the letter from your father. And we’ll talk about that—later. First, I need to tell you something.”
The bedcovers had shifted lower to reveal his bared chest and her fingers doodled over his skin, careful to avoid the darkening bruises. “Very well.” Was this when he told her he was going to send her away for good? Lock her up so she couldn’t cause any more trouble for him?
“Look at me—if you can bear the sight.”
She propped herself onto one elbow. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen, and I’ll never tire of looking at you.” She bit her lip. “Do you mind?”
“Mind?”
“My excessive emoting. Mother always said—”