Chapter 27
“B-b-b-b…” Oliver’s face was contorted and purple as he tried to get out the word, his finger tracing it on the page.
Across from him, Catherine sat with Daisy, nodding encouragingly. They were sitting in the library, and Oliver was attempting to read a passage from a book.
It had been his suggestion, communicated to Catherine through a mix of words and pictures on his slate. Over the past few days, he had become more confident, but still did not quite speak in full sentences.
Catherine peered at the word Oliver was trying to read and canted her head. “Do you want me to read it for you?”
Oliver shook his head. “B-b-b-ishop. The Bishop.”
“Well done!” Catherine beamed at him, feeling pride wash over her. “That was perfect.”
Oliver grinned at her and puffed out his chest. Then he pointed to the nearby chess set and tilted his head to one side. “Play?”
Catherine was about to say yes when she heard footsteps approaching the door. She looked up and saw one of the maids walk in through the doorway and drop into a curtsy.
“Your Grace.”
Catherine stood and smoothed out the creases of her dress. She noticed the way the woman shifted from foot to foot, and the way she glanced over her shoulder. A prickle of unease made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
“What is it?” Catherine moved toward the woman and kept her voice low. “What is wrong?”
The maid swallowed and leaned forward. “I saw a woman in the back of the servants’ quarters. She was wearing a maid’s cloak, but I did not recognize her.”
“What did she look like?” Catherine’s heart sped up. “What color was her hair?”
“I did not get a good look at her, Your Grace. She was older, though not elderly, if you take my meaning. She disappeared into the servant’s passage before I could look at her, but I do not think she saw me. I came to find you as quickly as I could.” The maid wrung her hands.
“Which passage did she go into?” Catherine’s mind sprang into action, mapping out the house as she listened for the maid’s answer.
“The one that leads to the w est wing, Your Grace.”
Good. That would mean she had enough time, that Marina was as far away from her and Oliver as she could be. “She would be able to reach my study or one of the drawing rooms from there.”
“What should we do?” the maid asked.
“I do not want to tip our hand. Find the butler; we need a magistrate and perhaps some constables.” Catherine flexed and unflexed her fingers. “Do not alert the guards, not yet, at least. Have them wait before they intervene. I do not want her to run off before we can apprehend her.”
She placed a hand on the maid’s shoulder. “I will lure her into the drawing room. That will give me the most space, and will be the easiest for anyone to get to, in case things go wrong.”
“Begging your pardon, but do you think it wise to take such a risk? She might be dangerous.” The maid’s eyes were wide.
Catherine shook her head, trying to sound braver than she felt. “I am tired of looking over my shoulder. This ends today. Now go and tell the butler what I have told you, and have the guards ready to act.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” The maid swept into a curtsy and left the room.
“Oliver, you need to hide.” Catherine glanced over her shoulder to make sure that the maid was out of earshot, and then carefully pulled one of the books from the bookshelf.
The entire thing swung forward, revealing a secret room. It contained several candles, and Catherine lit one. “Do you remember what I told you? How you must be careful around these?”
Oliver nodded, his face pale.
“Good.” Catherine handed him a small pocket watch. “When that hand points to the twelve, if you have not heard our secret knock, you are to sneak out and go to Auntie Fiona’s house. Do you remember the way?”
“Yes.” Oliver shivered. “Scared.”
“I know. But I need you to be brave for me. Can you do that?” Catherine brushed a smudge of ash from his cheek.
“Brave.” Oliver straightened, his green eyes serious, reminding Catherine of Alaric.
She pushed the thought aside. Alaric was days away, and she needed to act. She closed the door and took a deep breath before walking to the w estern drawing room.
She deliberately walked loudly as she moved through the house, calling out greetings to the maids along the way. “If you see Oliver, tell him I will be in the w estern drawing room.”
Then she opened the door, slipped inside, and picked up a book, doing her best to feign deep interest in it as she moved to the sofa.
Her hands sought the fire poker she had hidden in the sofa cushions days earlier—every room contained similar items, meant to serve as a weapon in case of an emergency.
Let us hope I will not have to use it. Every muscle in her body tensed, her ears straining to hear every little sound.
She did not have to wait long.
The sound of the door sliding open behind her interrupted the dull thump of her heartbeat. “Ah, Mrs. Langley. How kind of you to join me.” She took a deep breath and turned around. “Although, perhaps I should call you Miss Ashcroft, since that is your real name, is it not? Miss Marina Ashcroft?
Marina’s eyes widened. Catherine took in the pallor of her skin; it was gray. Her hair was in disarray, and there was a wildness about the woman that set her teeth on edge. The maid’s uniform was stained, and Catherine suspected the woman had pilfered it from the laundry.
Catherine stood and placed the book on the sofa, ignoring the pounding of her heart. She forced herself to smile at Marina, refusing to let her see how scared she truly was.
She watched as Marina gave herself a little shake, the moment of shock dissipating as a twisted smile forced itself onto her face. The sight of it turned Catherine’s stomach. “Clever, clever, Catherine. Though you were always rather sharp.”
“It is Your Grace, if you do not mind, Miss Ashcroft. There is no reason for us to eschew propriety.”
“And there is that classic arrogance. You people think you are so much better than me. You think you can do whatever you want, and the world will reward you for it.” Marina’s lip curled.
“High talk considering only one of us in this room has tried to kill someone.” Catherine arched an eyebrow at the other woman, relieved that she could not hear the thundering of her heart.
“Twice.” Marina laughed, an ugly, hysterical sound that made every muscle in Catherine’s body tense, every hair standing rigid. “I know you know about the poison, but I bet you did not know about the carriage, did you?”
Alaric was right. “I had my suspicions.” Catherine shrugged.
“Liar!” Marina roared.
“Really? That seems a little unnecessary, do you not think?” What is wrong with me? Catherine had no idea where the bravado had come from, but she could not seem to turn it off.
Maybe it was the sight of this woman, disheveled and angry. Maybe she was just tired and did not wish to play her game. She saw Marina’s nostrils flare, her face turning purple as she took a step forward.
“I will call you whatever I darn well please.” Spittle flew from Marina’s lips, landing on Catherine’s face.
She wrinkled her nose and wiped the droplets away with her hand. “How did you do it? The accident, I mean.”
“The stable hand. Joshua, Gregory, or Benjamin. Something like that. Silly little sod, though he had a pretty enough face, I suppose.” Marina ran a hand along the windowsill, wrinkling her nose and flicking away an imaginary speck of dust. “I convinced him to break the spokes on the wheel, to saw through them so they would break and the damn thing would crash.”
Catherine forced herself to stare into Marina’s cold green eyes. Of course, I did not see her features in Oliver; his face is kind and warm, and she is anything but that.
“And what did you offer him? It cannot have been money.”
“What all men want, my dear.” Marina gestured to her body and let out a shriek of laughter. “They are such predictable creatures. You do not even have to give yourself to them, not really. Just make them think you will, and they are like puppies. Desperate to do anything to please you.
“Is that what happened with the late Duke?” Catherine inched closer to the sofa.
Marina’s face darkened. “He told me he loved me. That I was special to him. He promised me a life of luxury. And then I got with child and everything changed. He threw me aside, tossed me away like some used handkerchief. Or he tried.”
“What... what do you mean?” Keep her distracted, off balance. Catherine froze as Marina turned back to look at her.
“I had his letters, threatened to send them to his enemies. To expose him publicly. And once our son was born, he paid most handsomely for my silence.” Marina smirked, and Catherine fought down an urge to be sick.
“If he paid you so well, why did you leave Oliver at St. Margaret’s? You could have taken him with you.” She could not imagine leaving him there.
“Why bother? He was housed and fed, as was I. At least, until the money stopped coming.” Marina scowled.
She does not care about him. The realization raced through Catherine. “If you are here to convince Alaric to start making those payments, I fear you have come to the wrong place.”
“I am well aware that the Duke is not with you. Nor is he in his estate in the n orth, or the castle in Scotland, or staying with his good friends. A clever trick, I will give you that.” Marina moved closer to Catherine, one hand resting on the back of the sofa.
“Thank you.” Catherine forced herself not to move.
“Not clever enough, though.” Marina giggled again, waggling her finger at Catherine.
Is she... drunk? Catherine shifted slightly, her hand drifting toward the sofa cushions and the fire poker hidden within them
Marina canted her head, gesturing for Catherine to sit down and sweeping into a mocking curtsy. “Tired already, Your Grace? Or am I boring you perhaps? Should I make things a little more interesting? Perhaps I should tell you how I killed the stable hand—would that amuse you?”
“You are lying. The boy died in the crash.” Catherine frowned but sat on the sofa as Marina flopped into the armchair across from her, her legs dangling over the armrest in a very unladylike manner.
“Why would someone who knew the carriage was broken be on it?” Marina gave Catherine a pitying look. “He thought he would survive, and the two of us would escape into the sunset. Silly fool. He did not see the knife until I stuck it between his ribs.”
“You were there!” Her eyes widened, and her heart stuttered to a halt. “Why did you spare Alaric?”
“A mistake.” Marina spat on the floor. “I thought he was dead. He was supposed to be dead. Then Oliver’s way would be clear. With Alaric gone, he could take his rightful place as heir.”
“You are mad. Oliver will never be heir; you were never married to his father. Illegitimate children cannot inherit; there is no way for him to gain Alaric’s title.”
“Only if the law thinks him a bastard.” Catherine could not help but wince at the word and, in frustration, saw that her reaction had clearly amused Marina. “Does that offend your precious sensibilities? Bastard! Bastard! Bastard! That is what he is, after all. But not for long.”
“What do you mean?” Catherine leaned back, her hand hidden from view.
Just a little more.
“I happen to be rather adept at forgery. The world already thinks he is your husband’s son.
All I need to do is show them that we were already married, and then I will step into my rightful place and ensure my son uses the vast sums at his disposal for useful things.
” She clapped a hand to her chest and fluttered her eyelids dramatically. “Like spoiling his loving mother.”
“You are a monster!” Catherine spat as her fingers brushed against the cool metal of the poker.
“No, Your Grace, I am simply a woman who knows what she wants and will do anything to get it. If I were a man, I would be called a leader or perhaps a politician.” Marina swung her legs off the arm of the chair and onto the floor, puffing herself up like the most pompous of windbags.
“You would be called a murderer.” Her hand clasped around it, and she tensed her muscles.
“Temper, Catherine. Watch your– ”
Marina’s words were cut off as Catherine launched herself across the room at her, poker in hand.
The iron collided with the side of Marina’s head with a crack, blood spurting from the wound. Catherine raised her hand to strike once more, but Marina was faster and stronger than she had expected.
She felt bony hands wrap around her wrist, with Marina’s sharp nails digging into her skin. She smelled the woman’s foul breath as she leaned in closer. Moments later, she felt teeth sink into her, screamed, and fell to the ground, dropping the poker from her grip.
“Now you have made me angry,” Marina snapped, kicking the poker away as Catherine tried to stop the bleeding from her shoulder. “Tell me where my son is, right now.”
“Never! You do not care about him; you only see him as a means to gain power and status. You do not love him!” Catherine spat.
Where the hell are the guards?
She should not have done this. She had done it again—underestimated the woman—and now she would pay the price. She thought she could hear a commotion.
I have to distract her.
Marina advanced toward her. “That is love, Catherine. In this world, there are those without power and those with it. And I will be damned if I let you take it from me again.”
Marina drew out a pocket pistol and pointed it straight at Catherine’s chest. “I am going to enjoy killing you. And then I will kill your husband. And when I am the Duchess, I shall dance on your graves and do a merry little jig.”
Catherine glared at Marina as the clock began to chime. “If you kill me, you will never find Oliver.”
“The boy will come out sooner or later. And when he does, he will be mine.” Marina waggled the gun, and Catherine felt all moisture disappear from her mouth as beads of sweat trickled down her back and neck.
“By now, he will be miles away from here.” Catherine gritted her teeth, knowing that Oliver would only just be creeping out of his hiding spot.
She drew in a deep breath as she stared into the barrel of the gun Marina was pointing at her.
They are not going to get here in time.
“Brave words, a pity they will be your last.” Marina’s finger clenched around the trigger.
Time slowed, and as Catherine closed her eyes, preparing to die, her last thought was of Alaric.
I wish I had told him how I felt.
There was an enormous bang as the doors flung open, knocking Catherine aside. A savage roar filled the room.
The smell of blood and gunpowder filled the air, mingling with something else. Something familiar.
Amber and c edar—and the firm weight of him pressed between her and the gun.
“Get away from my wife.”