Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“You never have to worry about her again.”
Simon’s words were like a soothing salve. They were on the way back home to the estate in the carriage. It had been a whirlwind of events, one after the other.
But now that they were with each other, there was finally some peace restored in their life.
Rachel tried to wrap her head around all that had happened. She had never experienced such a thrilling, yet frightening day before. She looked at Simon, who was her calming guide in the midst of this all.
“I cannot believe it still,” she said.
“You and I both,” Simon sighed. Clearly, he was still reeling from the events as well.
“It is really astounding how well she was able to keep up with appearances,” Rachel shook her head. “One could never have guessed that she was involved in nefarious activities like this by looking at her.”
“Appearances can always be deceiving, sweetheart.” Simon pointed to her heart. “It is inside here that matters truly.”
If someone had told her that Simon Linwood would be speaking so sweetly to her a few weeks ago, she would not have believed them.
For she would have said that she did not think he was even capable of being this sweet.
But he had really come out of his shell and had begun to show his real personality to her.
It was something that she appreciated more than anything.
“I know,” she agreed. “Like you. You have a ferocious reputation, but your heart is pure gold.”
“That is very high praise, darling. Do you think I deserve it?” Simon questioned.
“Oh, I mean it,” she pressed. “I have seen enough of the world now to know. And I know you.”
Simon wrapped a hand around her shoulders, squeezing her softly. “Always happy to know that the wife is happy with me.”
“I am,” she conceded. “Just as long as you don’t decide to leave me overnight again.”
“Oh, you are not getting rid of me now,” he assured her. Their relationship had changed for the better, and Rachel no longer felt the insecurities she had before.
She knew that he was there for her. She was sure of it.
“For a moment there,” she started, biting down on her lip, “I really thought that you were going to finish her off yourself. Considering her history, it would have been justified.”
“Would you have looked at me differently if I had?”
Rachel pondered over his question for a moment. The idea that Simon was capable of ending someone’s life was a macabre one, but watching his parents get murdered was equally dreadful.
“I suppose not,” she replied finally.
Simon’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Were you expecting a different answer?” she asked, smiling. “I know what is in your heart, and it would not have been a senseless act of killing.”
“You give me more grace than I deserve,” he admitted softly, pulling her closer to him. “But if it ever came to it, I would do it for you.”
“That is…” Rachel bit down on her lip. “Well, I suppose that is oddly romantic.”
A man who was willing to do anything to keep her safe. She had only ever read about that sort of love in romance novels.
As the carriage approached the front drive, they noticed a commotion had broken out.
“What is happening here?” Rachel asked, grabbing onto Simon’s arm tightly.
“The constables are here.”
The two of them rushed out of the carriage and saw three constables standing near the steps. A fourth was leading a man in shackles.
“Beckham?” Rachel’s eyes widened. He had been one of the gardeners at the estate. He was struggling, his face pale with fury as he twisted in the officer’s grip.
“Let me handle this,” Simon assured her.
“You’ve made a mistake!” he shouted. “I served this house faithfully! I didn’t do anything—”
“That’s enough,” Simon cut in coldly, his voice silencing the man instantly.
One of the constables turned toward him and gave a short nod. “Caught him trying to sneak out through the servant’s corridor. We have letters to prove his association with Grace Langston.”
Rachel felt her stomach drop. The gardener was not someone that she had interacted with much, but she had always assumed him to be a quiet man who meant no harm.
Appearances were deceiving, once again. Rachel looked to Simon, who calmed her down with only a look.
“How long has this betrayal been going on?” Simon asked the constable.
“We suspect that their alliance has been happening for a few weeks at least,” he replied. “Could even be months. But it was definitely going on around the time that the duchess moved in. He was feeding her details about the household. Staff schedules.”
“How much was she paying you?” Simon scowled at the gardener. That loyalty could be bought so easily startled Rachel, but it was a reality that she had to come to grips with.
The gardener—now in shackles— glared up at Simon. “She paid me more in a week than you did in a year.”
“So, you thought that was a fair payment for trying to kill my wife?” Simon stepped in close. Beckham faltered. In comparison to Simon, he seemed quite small.
“I did not know that it was a murder plot,” he tried to defend himself. “You cannot prove that.”
Simon turned to the constables. “Take him away. The charges will include attempted murder, conspiracy, and treason.”
The gardener continued to struggle, but he was outnumbered. The constables began to drag him away as he cursed them all the way to the gates.
Rachel stood still, trying to process all that had happened. “Do you think there are more?”
Simon looked around his estate. “We will do a thorough search. If there are more, then I will make sure that they are weeded out.”
Rachel bit down on her lip.
Just as the constables left, Rachel barely had time to collect her thoughts when she was immediately met by an eager Aunt Jean and a worried Marina.
“You are finally here,” Marina embraced her sister tightly. “I was worried that something might go wrong and that—”
“The problem has been dealt with,” Rachel assured her sister. “Grace confessed to the whole thing, and now, she is in the hands of the authorities.”
“Oh, this all sounds thrilling,” Aunt Jean jumped in, rubbing her hands together. “I came as soon as I got word that there was trouble. Simon, you should have brought me with you.”
Simon shot his aunt an amused look. “I think it was better for you to stay somewhere where it was safe.”
“Oh, but that is no fun.” Aunt Jean shook her head. “Grace Langston always rubbed me the wrong way if I am being honest. I would have paid to see the look on her face.”
“It was worth seeing, I’ll admit,” Rachel agreed. It felt like a huge load had been lifted off her chest.
“We will not hear from Grace Langston for a long time now,” Simon observed. “She is held in the magistrate’s quarters for now, but she will be shifted to a prison in the countryside soon enough.”
“And what about—” Aunt Jean gestured towards the gate where the constables had dragged away the gardener just moments ago. “— him?”
“The traitor?” Simon replied. “He will be dealt with and punished accordingly.”
The conversation was interrupted by a man’s voice coming from inside the house.
It was Rowan. He looked rather disheveled, his chest was bare, and he was holding the torn-up remains of Rachel’s dress in one hand.
“What happened to you?” Marina gasped.
“Your sister’s wardrobe,” Rowan said flatly, glancing toward Rachel with mock reproach, “is a battlefield.”
“Why were you in her—” Aunt Jean’s furrowed his brow.
“All in the name of justice,” Rowan interrupted smoothly.
“It was your idea that you could pass for me,” Rachel grinned as she looked over at Simon. He didn’t say anything but looked amused.
”I swear, it should be a crime for women to dress like this. I couldn’t breathe for more than half the day. Who invented this, and why haven’t we burned them yet?”
Rachel laughed, but before she could respond, Simon stepped beside her and placed a hand over her eyes gently.
“She’s seen enough of your nonsense for one day,” he said dryly.
“Oh please,” Rowan shot back, “after what she’s just done, I’d say your duchess can handle a little indecency.”
“Yes, well, we would all be more comfortable if you put something on,” Marina replied, already averting her gaze and thrusting a folded shirt at him without looking.
“Ah, my savior,” Rowan said, slipping into the garment quickly but not before flashing Marina a grin. “Where have you been all of my life?”
Marina blushed furiously, looking away.
Aunt Jean cleared her throat. “Now that you’ve clothed yourself, perhaps you’d care to tell us what exactly happened here?”
Rowan rolled his shoulders. Despite the chaos of the last few days, he seemed to be in great spirits.
“Simple,” he said. “We swapped right after breakfast. Rachel put on one of my coats and disappeared through the back with Simon while I put on one of her gowns.”
“It was one of my old ones,” Rachel added. “The sleeves barely fit him.”
“I’ll never forgive the sleeves,” Rowan muttered.
“And the goal was to make sure the staff saw me,” Rachel continued, glancing toward Jean. “That way, if someone was watching the estate, they’d believe I never left.”
Rowan nodded.
”Exactly. I stayed by the window in her chambers and made sure to look out now and then, contemplating—whatever it is you do all day.”
“Mostly I just breathe and avoid murder.” Rachel gave him a flat look.
“Charming.”
“Anyway,” he continued, “our traitor took the bait. Came sneaking in with a blade tucked in his coat. Poor bastard thought he’d take another shot.”
“And?” Marina asked, eyes wide.
Rowan shrugged. “I caught him before he got far.”
“And the constables?” Jean pressed.
“They were on alert since yesterday and waiting just outside the estate. Once Rowan signaled, they came straight in,” Simon responded.
“It was quite the fight,” Rowan cracked his neck.
“You shouldn’t have fought at all,” Rachel said gently, stepping forward.
Rowan looked at her with surprising seriousness.