Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
Bridget’s face flushed at the maid’s frank talk, and she forced herself not to look at Nate.
“But then Lord Frederick started ‘helping.’ He always wanted Abigail. So, I’d go with Mr. Harley.
” She twisted the handkerchief. “It didn’t seem to matter to Mr. Harley whose babe he got so long as he got one. ”
“And it angered you that Mr. Harley and Lord Frederick preferred Abigail?” Nate said. “Because they thought her prettier?”
“Or because she was more likely to get with child than you?” Bridget said, glaring at Nate. He’d said the wrong thing again.
“No,” Sarah said. “Truly I didn’t care. Because Abigail said we’d share the money no matter who got with child. We’d run off together, get a home, and have servants of our own.”
Bridget frowned. Just how much money did Mr. Harley offer them?
“But that’s not what happened is it?” Nate interjected again. “Abigail wanted it all for herself, didn’t she?”
Sarah nodded. Her gaze was fixed on her boots.
“When Abigail learned she were with child, everything changed.” She looked up.
“She talked of how she was to escape service and live a grand life as Mr. Harley’s mistress.
She said that Mrs. Harley was dowdy and barren, and that Mr. Harley wanted her instead.
She’d have her own quarters in London, new dresses every week, and money to buy sweet treats, perfume, and whatever else she wanted. ”
“Abigail broke her promise to you, so you killed her,” Nate said.
“No!” Sarah looked from Nate to Bridget, her eyes wild. “I don’t know. I wished it—I prayed for her to die!”
“You did more than wish, didn’t you, Sarah?” Nate said. “You gave her the wrong type of mushrooms, then you followed her and pushed her into the fountain.”
“No,” Sarah said. “I never did. The mushrooms always came from Mr. Harley or Lord Frederick. We kept them in a little sack in our room. Mr. Harley warned us not to pick our own. He said we might get the wrong ones and then we could die.”
“You knew exactly what to do then,” Nate said. “You knew what would kill her and then you did it.”
Sarah’s body trembled. “It’s true. I wished her dead and the devil made it happen.”
“You made it happen. You switched the mushrooms in the bag, didn’t you?”
“It weren’t fair!” Sarah cried. “When Lord Frederick started taking up with Lady Luxton, he stopped helping Mr. Harley. Abigail went with Mr. Harley every night. He seemed to forget all about me. That’s why Abigail got with child and not me.
That’s why I wished her dead. I didn’t mean for her to die. But I prayed for it!”
Bridget swallowed. She could see that Nate was no longer listening. His face had turned as pale as the mist that hovered over the lake, and his lovely, dark-blue eyes had turned black.
“Did you say Lady Luxton?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.
*
Nate’s heart raced as he made his way to the smoking room.
He’d let Helen manipulate him once again.
And she’d used Henry to do it—their son!
A thought struck him. Was Henry his son?
Or had Helen been sleeping with Frederick or another man while they were betrothed?
What a fool I’ve been! He pushed open the door to the smoking room and burst inside.
“Good Lord, Squires! You almost handed me my death. What on earth is the matter?”
Nate went straight for the cigar box without taking off his jacket or slipping on a smoking robe. He picked out a cigar and held it between his trembling fingers—unable to bring it to his lips and light it.
“I say, are you unwell?” Frederick asked.
“No.” Nate wetted his lips, which had suddenly turned as dry as his throat. “I was just wondering. Have you made any strides in your plan with Lady Luxton?”
“My plans?” Frederick gave Nate a lopsided smile.
“Yes, you mentioned the other day that—” Nate coughed. His throat had dried again.
Frederick cocked his head. “What is it, Squires? Don’t tell me you still care for her. If I thought there was still something between you two, I would not have—”
“Don’t apologize. It’s nothing like that.”
“That’s a relief.” Frederick leaned back in his chair and inhaled his cigar.
Nate dropped his own cigar back in the box and went to pour himself a brandy.
He felt sick to his stomach, but he couldn’t blame Frederick.
After all, that man had only done what he’d said he was going to do, and he’d not protested at the time.
It wasn’t Frederick’s fault that Helen had fooled him once again.
But he didn’t care about her so much as he did the child.
“She doesn’t love me, you know,” Frederick said as Nate sat down beside him with a brandy in hand. “She’ll never marry me. No, I’m only a diversion because she’s bored with her husband. But, she is beautiful so—”
Nate’s chest tightened. “I don’t think Helen is capable of loving anyone,” he said.
“You might be right.” Frederick nodded. He put his cigar to his lips and inhaled.
Nate waited until his friend had exhaled a thick stream of smoke before speaking again. “What about the child?”
“Are you asking who I think fathered the boy?”
Nate nodded, his heart drumming in his chest.
“I don’t think it’s Lord Luxton’s, I can tell you that much.” Frederick eyed Nate. “He could be yours. He’s the right age, and he has your coloring.”
“She swears he is mine.” Nate sipped his brandy.
“Or…he could be your brother’s.” Frederick locked his dark eyes on Nate’s.
Nate almost choked on his brandy. He extracted his handkerchief from his pocket and coughed into it.
“I’m sorry,” Frederick said. “I thought you knew.”
“Knew what?” Nate said through gritted teeth.
“I thought Helen was the reason for your acrimonious relationship with Edward.”
“No. Our relationship is acrimonious because Edward is a pompous prig. Helen would never—not Edward—what would be the point? He was already married. She wanted a title and the money and power that comes with it.”
“You’ve always been blind when it comes to Helen.
” Frederick put his cigar to his lips and inhaled.
“She puts Narcissus to shame. The woman wants power over every man she encounters, and she thought that your brother would become as besotted with her as you. That meant he’d ply her with money and whatever else she wanted.
And she wouldn’t have stopped at him either.
Had you married her, you would have been a cuckold more times than you could count. ”
“Stop,” Nate warned. “I don’t want to hear about it.
I know that I have always been a fool when it concerns Helen.
Still, I never imagined Edward would stoop that low.
My own brother! Do you imagine that if I knew”—Nate shook his head—“that he’d still be alive?
I’d have challenged him to a duel—brother or no brother. ”
“I think in his mind, he believed he was saving you,” Frederick said.
“She knew he held the purse strings, and he knew she could be bought. It’s not that he wanted her for himself.
It was more that he didn’t want her for you, so he set a trap for her, and once she fell into it, he had complete control of her reputation. ”
“Don’t you dare defend him,” Nate snarled.
“Edward could have ruined her chances of marrying anyone. Instead, he arranged for her to marry Lord Luxton. Perhaps, because he knew she was with child and cared enough to secure the lad a good future.”
“I said, don’t defend him.” Nate clenched his fists. “Whatever Edward thinks, that child cannot belong to my pale-as-a-lily brother,” Nate spat.
“I tend to agree. He is the image of you.”
“But I will never know for certain.” Nate gulped his brandy.
Perhaps Edward had done him a favor. He’d been blind to Helen’s duplicity, and life with her would have been miserable.
Still, it had been unintentional. Edward didn’t care about his happiness.
He’d interfered in his marriage to control him.
He was the despot of his own little kingdom.
Nate swallowed more brandy. He hated that Edward controlled his inheritance, dolling it out to him as an allowance each month, and withholding the money at his will.
It was time to sever his dependence on that bastard.
He had to make Villa De Lacey work for him, and that meant discovering who the killer was before anyone else ended up dead.