23. Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Again!” the doctor commanded, and Roger was once more forced beneath the water world.
He fought desperately, his lungs burning, screaming for oxygen.
He tried to fight against the strong men, but his limbs had become feeble.
The icy water had numbed him, leaving him unable to control his own body.
Each moment that passed brought more violent shivers.
His nostrils burned as water flooded in, and with barely any time to breathe between intervals, his strength was rapidly fading.
“Up!”
The men pulled Roger upward, his lower body remaining in the tub. He gasped as air filled his empty lungs, making him feel alive again—but barely. With each passing moment, he fell into a deeper darkness, one he believed would be an eternal prison, not only physically but mentally as well.
Roger sucked in another breath as he prepared for the next dunk.
He tried to focus on happy thoughts, mostly of Margaret, but as the days dragged on, it felt as though nothing good remained to hold onto.
She had become a distant memory, just like times were before the war—days with Ian and the days of eternal sunlight.
Those were done for, and so were the ones with Margaret.
She was better off without him. As days went by, that was one thing he could make peace with—especially while everything he experienced was torment.
Margaret would become the next marchioness, no matter if she said she didn’t want to be.
Lord Burton was the perfect man for her, and Roger was where he belonged.
Lord Burton would give her a life of luxury, far from what Roger could.
She would be cared for, never to experience Roger’s inner darkness again.
“Well, well, Mr. McKinley. What great progress. I see you have learned to surrender,” the doctor said in a provoking voice. He stood from his chair and studied Roger with a conniving smile. “Now, once you learn to let us help you, we can talk about your next steps to recovery.”
Roger remained silent as he shivered in the tub.
His lips were frozen, making it impossible for him to form words, so he let the doctor state his opinion.
Even if Roger were released, he wouldn’t be free.
He’d be in prison, facing a new kind of darkness.
He’d rather be dead. A life with no meaning was worse than dying.
“Get this man a blanket,” the doctor said. “Good job today, Mr. McKinley.”
Rising from the tub, Roger’s legs trembled.
The nurses brought out a blanket, throwing it over his shoulders.
He clenched it tight, preserving its warmth.
He turned his head, suddenly catching a faint glimmer of light.
A small crack in the ceiling allowed a sliver of sunlight to filter through.
It was the first sunlight he had seen since his last day with Margaret at the loan office, and now he knew it would be the last.
The hours following Margaret’s broken engagement were nothing but blue—not the pretty baby blue that Margaret preferred her dresses to be.
It was an ugly shade mixed with black, the color of her bruised soul.
The home had grown unbearable with Grandmama’s outbursts about Margaret not getting married.
She had declared she would seek out many of her acquaintances for a quick courtship, but Daddy had stood his ground, assuring her Margaret would not be her pawn.
They were leaving that evening, and Margaret’s bags were packed, bringing only the clothes she came with.
She didn’t care for the stylish dresses Grandmama had bought her.
She didn’t want to be reminded of this place.
Even the beautiful midnight blue gown would be abandoned.
The dress had made Margaret feel beautiful, but it reminded her of her first encounter with Eugene—his flirtations were merely a show, and that forward kiss turned out to be merely an attempt to win her over for her fortune.
A part of Margaret believed he had genuinely loved her, but the deception still lingered in her mind.
Not only that, but the way he had eternally taken away her very happiness.
No news came about Roger or the trial, and Margaret had thrown away any hope of freeing him.
Despite Mr. Baldwin’s firing, no evidence existed against them, especially with no written document regarding bribing Sidney Agnes.
Roger couldn’t be saved without a witness or a lawyer, and they simply didn’t have the funds for either.
Grandmama had a modest sum, but she would never pay to save a man who sabotaged her plan.
Everything about Richmond was a fraud, just as her wealthy family was.
She’d rather live comfortably as before without any fortune with the name Nicholson written upon it.
Having the name was shameful enough. Grandfather had ruined them, just as he had once ruined her parents.
He may have thought he was doing good by his tricks, but he was nothing but a deceitful, self-centered man.
Margaret was glad he was dead; that way, he’d never ruin their lives again.
He had no more control now that the will had been abandoned, never to be fulfilled.
Margaret shut her suitcase and placed her purple cloche hat atop her head that matched her coat and skirt.
Her family had a train to catch at five o’clock, and it was only four.
Her sisters had already packed and were situated downstairs.
But Margaret wanted to have a few moments alone, reflecting on the good of leaving this place.
She may have overcome her fear of transportation and the dark, but she was done with the pompous city life.
Margaret closed the door of the haunting bedroom and said goodbye to each grand object in the hallway.
She walked down the staircase, relieved this was the final time.
Eugene had once been at the bottom, waiting to take her to the theater.
She had walked these steps, learning about Roger’s arrest and then finding out about Sidney’s betrayal of the family.
She was surprised Sidney was still working for them.
If Margaret had been her father, there would be no second chances.
However, her father was a man of mercy. At least some compassion still remained within him.
Upon entering the parlor, Graydon Marshall confronted her.
He stood by the fireplace beside Margaret’s father, lost in a serious conversation.
Their attention shifted to Margaret when she entered.
Seeing Graydon was another painful reminder of her happy days.
Graydon was Roger’s best friend, and she could only imagine his pain.
“Mr. Marshall, I was unaware of your presence,” Margaret said, dropping her suitcase. “Please forgive me. If I had known, I would have come down sooner.”
Graydon bowed. “No apologies needed. It is nice to see you again, Miss Nicholson.”
Margaret glanced to her left and saw Marjorie seated on a sofa next to Evie. Margaret sat down beside her. As soon as she was situated, Marjorie grabbed her arm, pulling her closer.
“I asked Graydon to come by,” Marjorie whispered in Margaret’s ear.
“Whatever for?”
“We must speak to you about a certain matter, Margaret,” her father announced.
Margaret sat straighter, swiftly noticing the seriousness in everyone’s stares.
“Mr. Marshall has informed me more about Mr. McKinley’s case,” Daddy explained. “There were no witnesses on the scene, but one of the men has been identified as a wanted criminal in Washington. A warrant has been arranged for his arrest.”
Margaret’s eyes widened. “Oh, how strange. I am glad . . . that he has been caught.”
“That’s not all, Miss Nicholson,” Graydon started. “Because of this, he is considered an untrustworthy source, and due to his history of fraud, the law cannot accept his statement as valid.”
Graydon dug into his pocket. “I have hired a lawyer, Jonathan Kimble.” He unfolded a piece of paper and handed it to Margaret.
“He has declared a retrial, giving Roger the clearance to make a statement. Because he was immediately deemed mentally unstable, he couldn’t make one. It seems rather odd, don’t you think?”
Margaret read over the file, the lawyer’s appeal, and the case’s details. “Do you believe there was a bribe . . . to get him immediately into the facility without any proper diagnosis?”
“That is correct,” her father explained.
Margaret took deep breaths, her heart pounding. “Please do not get my hopes up, but . . . is there a possibility he can be free?”
“We believe so,” Daddy answered with a warm smile.
A rush of relief fell over Margaret, and Marjorie wrapped her arm around her. Margaret closed her eyes, taking in small breaths. Thank you, Lord. Thank you, Lord.
“If we can obtain consent from the judge, we plan to have him released tonight and take him home with us,” Daddy explained. “He needs supervision, and we believe Charlottesville is a good place for him.”
Margaret immediately ran to her father, embracing him in the tightest hug. “Thank you, Daddy. Thank you.”
Her father rubbed her back softly and planted a kiss on her head. “I know how much you care,” he whispered. “And I will do anything for you.”
Tears streamed down Margaret’s face, soaking her father’s shoulder. Her heartache faded, replaced by a sense of hope. I’m coming for you, Roger. I am coming.