Chapter 22
Captain Morrison sat at the wobbly wooden desk, which was thick with a layer of dust. He had cleared off a clean patch on which to rest the journal and read the last three pages as directed by Alexander, who stood at his shoulder, re-reading passages in Edmund’s hand that had become so familiar to him in the past days yet still sent shivers down his spine.
The captain exhaled heavily as he finished reading the final journal entry and leaned back in his chair.
‘So our suspicions are confirmed.’ He raised an eyebrow as he considered Alexander.
Alexander nodded regretfully and scuffed his feet at a piece of fallen timber on the floor of the old mill.
‘You will no longer need to fight me as I deny reality and defend my brother.’ Alexander looked up and fixed Captain Morrison with a sombre stare.
‘I believe your accusation now. It is irrefutable that Marcus killed my father and framed me. Then, once my cousin investigated and discovered the truth, Marcus poisoned him upon a visit the afternoon following Edmund’s final journal entry. ’
Captain Morrison’s agitated habit returned, and Alexander patiently waited for his tremors to aggressively play out and die down before the captain felt able to speak.
‘It is a tragic course of events,’ the captain summarized.
‘Yes. And it is my life, so we need to act.’ The risk to his loved ones galvanized Alexander.
‘I have wasted too much time worrying that Marcus was a victim and fretting over how I could better protect him. Now I realize it is Marcus himself who is the villain, I am cognizant of the very valid threat to my family and anybody who is conspiring to uncover the truth.’
The captain cleared his throat. ‘The servant from within the Wellwood estate, who has been helping—bringing me evidence and feeding me information—they have become so afraid they want to leave. Many of the household staff members have left.
Lord Wellwood was said to have thrown a plate at the head of a valet just the other day, and they all tiptoe around so as not to provoke his temper. My source stated they would not stay, and so I had to increase the money I was paying them.’
‘He is that bad?’ Alexander asked in awe. Despite his newfound knowledge that his brother was a fiend, the development of behaving so atrociously in public still shocked him.
‘Worse. He is liquidating all the estate’s assets to honour his debts. But the men he owes are impatient and threatening imminent violence. I would not be surprised if some harm came to him at home.’
‘But all my loved ones reside there!’ Alexander protested. ‘My mother and Arabella! Her sister, Charlotte, of whom Thomas is very fond …they are all staying at Wellwood! Are they, too, in imminent danger? Should they leave?’
‘If they leave, Lord Wellwood would be instantly suspicious. No, they must remain at the estate until our mission is complete.’
‘Then, please, we must report to the magistrate with the truth, before any further damage can be done.’
‘Do you feel ready to incriminate your brother?’
Alexander drew breath to answer and found that he could not.
***
It was with a sense of relief that Arabella found she could walk up to Alexander without worrying about keeping a formal distance from him.
After weeks of withholding her emotions, acting reserved and combating what she considered to be her weakness, the flood of compassion and love she felt for Alexander now came forth and dominated over all other emotions.
Alexander squeezed her hand as she looked into his eyes and told him she nearly became lost on her way to the old stone chapel.
‘Why are we meeting here? It is so deep in the woods …’
‘We must increase our caution. This is the safest place to meet since I feel all previous meeting points have now been compromised.’
‘It didn’t feel particularly safe–’ Arabella countered.
‘This ruin provides better concealment than the boat house, and there are multiple escape routes through the forest that offer us security, should we have to make haste.’
Arabella lifted her shoulders to her ears in self-comfort as she looked around the gloomy, damp space.
‘How have you been coping since the revelation of Edmund’s journals?’ Arabella asked.
‘I am reconciling how to do this …’ Alexander admitted.
‘To do what?’
‘To report my brother. How does one trap the brother who used to beg for bedtime stories? How does one destroy the boy who once brought injured birds for me to heal?’
Arabella took his hand, for she had no answer for him yet wished to console him and demonstrate that she was here to support him through this impossibly difficult task.
‘I know that I must, though,’ Alexander confessed.
‘Have you and Thomas spoken with Captain Morrison?’ Arabella asked.
‘Yes, and I believe he will be taking his evidence to the authorities. They will then presumably devise some method of capture, but I fear we may all need to be involved.’
Alexander’s eyes flicked cautiously to Arabella’s, gauging whether this would be too much to ask. ‘I cannot fathom how the magistrate will apprehend Marcus, but I assume some sort of intervention would be required by the household residents and all those involved.’
‘To ensure he does not evade the law a third time?’ Arabella clarified.
‘Yes.” Alexander nodded sadly. ‘Though I regret to inform you, we suspect Marcus has killed more than my father and cousin …’
‘More?’ Arabella’s hand flew out of Alexander’s as her fingers went to her lips in shock.
‘Harrowingly, yes. It would appear that anybody who has dared to delve into the mystery of who murdered my father has been silenced and—whilst it pains me to envisage a reality where my sweet, young brother could be an immoral assassin—it seems I can no longer deny it, for the facts are plain.’
‘Oh, Alexander.’ Arabella reached out to touch his arm in solidarity. ‘How will you proceed?’
‘I should speak with my mother. I have not seen her again since that first night when you were unfortunate enough to discover me …’
‘I do not consider that night unfortunate,’ Arabella corrected him.
‘If I had been more elusive, you should never have been caught up in this most awful drama,’ Alexander justified.
‘If you had been more elusive, I should have continued living a life where I was half-dead. My existence was defined by grieving you internally, grieving Edmund’s loss publicly, and battling guilt regarding my disloyal heart. It was no life, Alexander.’
‘But you were so angry with me!’
‘But of course! I felt betrayed! After all, I had been lied to …’ Arabella looked up at him through her lashes, her eyes admonishing him.
‘A regret I will harbour forever,’ Alexander nodded, looking deep into her eyes.
‘But I also understand the necessity. And even more so now—realizing that the whole scenario was designed to frame you. How impossible it would have been to prove your innocence when your brother had set up the scene to incriminate you so rigorously.’
Alexander bent low to drop an affectionate kiss on the top of her head. Arabella sighed out a breath of contentment despite their precarious dilemma.
‘So, you plan on speaking with your mother again?’ She reluctantly brought the focus back to the situation.
‘I think it would be for the best. I fear the shock of Marcus’s involvement could kill her. I should at least explain to her with a gentle compassion and comfort her before the authorities storm the house, and she has to deal with the terrible chaos of it all in among the horrifying revelation.’
Arabella bit her lip and confessed, ‘I do not think she will be as shocked as you envisage, Alexander.’
Alexander looked at Arabella, his brow furrowed in confusion. ‘Surely she cannot suspect him?’
Arabella stepped away and paced the dusty floor, wrapping her arms around her body. ‘Your mother and I have become close. We shared the devastation of losing you …’ Arabella looked pointedly at Alexander, and he sighed heavily, with regret and longing.
‘When I married Edmund, she became my aunt, and we forged a solid friendship.’
Alexander kicked the stone rubble on the floor. Despite all the recent developments, a knot still formed in his stomach at the thought of Arabella married to another.
‘When we lost Edmund, we were bonded once again by the devastation of bereavement. With this foundational understanding of one another, she has begun confiding in me about her true feelings regarding your brother …’
‘Can it be so?’ Alexander shook his head in consternation. ‘That she could doubt him, when even I could not?’
‘She has a valid reason for her suspicions. I will allow her to disclose what she chooses to.’ Arabella bowed her head, not wishing to inappropriately betray Lady Wellwood’s confidence.
It felt pertinent that Alexander should be aware that he would not have to fight to gain his mother’s belief in the theory against Marcus.
Alexander closed his eyes and nodded just once to indicate that he understood. ‘I shall appeal to Thomas to arrange discretion surrounding my meeting with her.’
‘Very well.’ Arabella made to leave, though with tentative steps that suggested she was reluctant to depart.
‘Before you leave, Arabella–’ Alexander stepped forward, and she turned willingly. ‘I must thank you.’
‘Thank me?’ She smiled, which was a welcome respite.
‘For being my anchor in this storm. You could have shunned me. Worse, you could have reported me!’
‘I would never do that.’ She shook her head so that her auburn curls that cascaded down from the bun on top of her head bounced about.
‘I know. And that is why I am thanking you.’ Alexander bent to drop a delicate kiss on her nose and guided her to the door, looking both ways with caution before releasing her to the path that would take her home. Safely, he hoped.