Chapter 20
Alastair went with the officiant without any argument, after letting his mother and sister know that he was having to help with inquiries.
Lady Hartwood and Helena looked just as shocked as Arabella felt as they watched him leave, the officiant from the magistrate shadowing him closely as if he expected his charge to take off running.
Arabella felt like she was in a bad dream.
This couldn’t be happening. How could Alastair know anything about her father’s death?
He’d been present the night he died, but he hadn’t been there when Pa fell into the river.
Someone definitely pushed him in, but it couldn’t be Alastair.
Arabella had accused him in the beginning, but she knew that she couldn’t believe it of him.
Not of the man she loved.
That had hit her harder than the knowledge Alastair might’ve had something to do with Pa’s death. Arabella felt lightheaded, and she wanted to cry.
She jumped when someone put their hands on her shoulders, flinching as she spun around. Philip jumped back and held up his hands.
“Easy, Arabella, it’s only me.”
“Philip!”
Her brother looked concerned as he lowered his hands. Arabella knew she was crying—she could feel the tears falling down her cheeks—but she couldn’t stop them. She wasn’t able to compose herself. She had no idea what was going on.
“I think we should go home,” Philip said quietly. “You shouldn’t be around others.”
Normally, she would argue with him, but Arabella couldn’t bring herself to do it. And she didn’t want to be around anyone else at the moment. She nodded.
“All right.” She swallowed. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
Her brother’s expression showed his sympathy as he headed toward the cloakroom, the butler opening the door for him. Arabella turned to see Helena approaching her, her expression worried.
“What’s going on?” she whispered. “Why would anyone think Alastair would be involved with this death? He could never hurt anyone.”
“Evidently, someone believes it,” Arabella murmured.
“But do you believe it? I know you accused him at one point, but do you believe it now?”
Arabella didn’t know what to say. She was still reeling from what had just happened. She kept thinking about the look on Alastair’s face as he turned back to look at her before he left. He looked worried, almost scared. Did he think that she was going to believe that he really was guilty?
She didn’t know what to think anymore. She just felt sick. She pressed a hand to her stomach as it knotted and tried to focus on her breathing. It didn’t work, but she tried. She wasn’t about to break down in front of everyone.
“Did you do this?”
Lady Hartwood was storming toward her, her expression thunderous. Arabella took half a step. “I… no, of course not!”
“Well, this is your father who caused this mess.” The dowager duchess folded her arms, her eyes flashing in her fury. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you got yourself close to my son and then set the magistrate on him when you had him in your clutches.”
Arabella gasped. “I would never do that!”
“How do I know that? I always knew there was something about you. I told my son that you would bring him down, especially with your father’s death. But he didn’t listen to me.”
“Mother…” Helena began, but Lady Hartwood cut her off.
“Don’t, Helena. I don’t want to hear it. And I want Lady Arabella to leave. Right now.”
“You don’t need to worry about that, Your Grace,” Philip replied. “We’re going to leave, anyway.”
“Good. And do it quickly. I don’t want her here.”
Lady Hartwood turned smartly and stalked back into the drawing room. Helena looked scared, turning to Arabella as she bit her lip.
“Don’t believe the noise around you,” she said. “My brother could never hurt anyone. He’s a good man.”
Arabella knew that, but at the same time she wasn’t entirely sure she knew what was true and what was a lie. She managed a tight smile and squeezed Helena’s hand.
“It’ll get sorted eventually,” she whispered.
Helena didn’t look convinced, blinking hard to hold back her tears. Then she turned away and hurried after her mother. Arabella closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. This was humiliating enough, and she wasn’t about to embarrass herself further by bursting into tears.
“Lady Arabella.”
Her eyes snapped open. Lord Vaughn had appeared, and now he was walking toward her. He gave her a gentle smile and took her hands.
“It’s going to be fine,” he said softly. “The truth will come out.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, Alastair was asking around about your father’s death, wasn’t he? Finding out what really happened, didn’t he say?”
“But he was doing it for me!”
“Are you sure about that? Or do you think he’s doing it for himself?”
That had Arabella faltering. She hadn’t thought about it like that.
But why would Alastair offer to help her if he was the one who killed her father?
That part didn’t make any sense. If she’d accused him, and he really was guilty, then he would’ve thrown her out and told her to never come back again.
Yet he’d suggested they pretended to court each other.
Was he just being selfish for his own needs? Did he see this as a way to get her distracted? Nothing in her head was lining up, and it was giving her a headache.
“I feel awful that you’re going through this right now.” Vaughn gave her a gentle smile. “If you need anything, anything at all, you can turn to me. I’ll support you through whatever you’re dealing with.”
Arabella didn’t know what to say to that.
Having this happen, moments after Vaughn suggesting they should court instead, was a little jarring.
With her trust having been shaken by Alastair being taken away, she didn’t know who she could trust. She was struggling to get her head around what just happened.
“Lady Arabella?”
“I…”
“Arabella.” Philip appeared at her side, their coats draped over his arm. “Our carriage is out the front ready for us.”
Relieved for an excuse to leave, Arabella curtsied quickly at Vaughn and gave him a tiny smile.
“Thank you for your concern, my lord, but I think you should focus on your own family. They’re more important.”
“You let me decide that.”
There was something about the way he said it that sent a shiver down Arabella’s spine. She didn’t respond, hurrying away with her brother at her side. They stepped out into the street to find the carriage waiting.
Arabella clambered inside, tripping over her own feet as she missed the step and slammed her shin into the hard edge.
Flinching and fighting back tears, she pulled herself inside and collapsed on the cushions, clutching at her shin.
Philip jumped in and sat beside her, his expression showing his worry.
“Arabella?”
“I don’t know how I could’ve been so stupid,” she muttered under gritted teeth. “I can’t believe he fooled me.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Well, he must’ve done. He must’ve killed Pa and made sure that I was distracted not to think about it.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I’ve been so…”
“Lady Arabella!”
A fair head appeared, and a young man leaned into the carriage. Arabella jumped at his presence. Philip frowned.
“What do you want?”
“I’m from the coroner’s office. The Duke of Hartwood wanted me to deliver something to you.” He held out a scroll, wrapped in a red bow. “But be careful who you show this to, because you’re not supposed to have this.”
Confused, Arabella took the scroll, and the young man immediately disappeared, footsteps echoing as he hurried away. Philip turned to her in bewilderment.
“What on earth’s going on?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s something important for me?”
Philip was about to say something more, but the door slammed shut, making both of them jump, and then the carriage set off. Philip moved to sit across from Arabella, looking out of the window with a rueful expression.
“I’m sure the dowager duchess will have this all over the ton within a couple of days,” he muttered. “Anything to control the damage of having her son being taken in for questioning.”
“She’ll be more focused on her son than ruining our reputations,” Arabella pointed out.
Philip scowled.
“Are you willing to bet on that? Because I’m not.”
Arabella didn’t know how to answer that. She stared at her brother, who was refusing to look at her. Despite his concern, he was also worried about what was going on, and how it was going to affect them. Her distress was not as bad as the reputation ruin they were going to go through.
How was this going to be put on their shoulders?
That was not fair. Arabella had no idea what was going on with the magistrate, and she hadn’t been the one to alert him to anything.
She’d been coming to the conclusion that her father was murdered by someone who wanted his money, but she didn’t believe it was Alastair.
The more she got to know him, the more she believed he was innocent.
Had she misjudged him? Had she been blind because of her feelings for Alastair? That had to be it.
She clasped the scroll in her hands as they traveled home in silence, the tension building in the air. Philip refused to look around, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees with a shadow across his face. Arabella wanted to say something, anything, but the words got stuck in her throat.
When they finally arrived, Philip helped Arabella out and led her inside. Then he gave her a gentle push toward the stairs.
“You need to go and rest,” he said gruffly. “Have some time to yourself.”
“I’m not in need of any rest,” Arabella snapped.
“You’ve just…”
“I’m fine!” She held up a hand. “Just stop… stop, Philip. I don’t need this right now.”
Philip looked as if he was going to argue, but then his shoulders slumped, running his hands through his hair. “All right, fine. Do what you want.”
He headed toward the drawing room and vanished inside, the door swinging open with a bang behind him.
Arabella stood there and listened as her brother poured himself a drink and then took the ribbon off the scroll.
If this was from the coroner’s office, it had to be important.
And if Alastair had organized this to be delivered to her, there had to be a reason.
She’d wanted to read it in the carriage, but she couldn’t do it. It was going to turn things upside down further, and Arabella wasn’t sure if she was ready to read what was there. But she had to. She needed to know.
She unrolled the paper and read through it. Then she read it a second time. The words didn’t make sense in her head, and she struggled to get them into an order that she could understand. That couldn’t be right. How was this possible?
Realization pressed down on her until Arabella felt like she couldn’t breathe properly. She closed her eyes and slowly breathed in and out ten times before she opened her eyes and read the scroll again. It was the same. Nothing had happened.
She wasn’t imagining it.
She entered the drawing room to find her brother slumping on the settee, a large glass of brandy in his hand. He groaned when he saw her.
“I don’t think I’m in the mood for this.”
“Have a look at this, Philip.” Arabella held the paper out to him. “I think you’ll find it interesting.”
“What is it?”
“Just read it!”
Philip flinched at her sudden outburst. Then he sat forward and plucked the paper from her hand, his expression showing his reluctance. He looked over what was in front of him, and Arabella saw the frown building on his face. He set aside his glass and read it again.
“This can’t be right.”
“You see what I see, don’t you?” Arabella insisted. “That Pa’s death has now been ruled as murder?”
“Yes, but… we were at the inquest. We were told it was an accidental death.”
“And then we were told Pa took his own life and that’s what made our own reputation tumble. Now it’s been changed to murder?”
“According to this date, this happened within the last couple of weeks.” Philip looked up. “Who would change their mind? Why would it be different to what we were told? And why weren’t we informed of it?”
“I don’t know, but someone’s playing with us.”
“What makes you think that?”
Arabella sighed and sagged into a nearby chair, the soft cushions making her sink into them. She was getting a headache from everything in the last half-hour.
“I don’t know. But someone knows something, and there’s somebody in the coroner’s office who has doubts, and they’ve shared it with the magistrate.
Something must’ve happened for the change to occur now.
” An idea came to her, and it sent a chill down her spine.
“Maybe they heard that the duke was sniffing around and wanted to get him out of the way, divert the murder to someone else.”
Philip let out a heavy sigh. “That’s a strong suggestion. Who would do that, though?”
“The person who killed Pa!”
“Arabella…”
“It would make sense, wouldn’t it?” Arabella insisted. “If Pa was murdered, and Alastair started sniffing around, trying to find out what happened, they framed him to get him to stop!”
Philip pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t think that’s the case.”
“Why not? Surely, that makes sense!”
“Arabella…”
“I know you want to believe Pa died by his own hand, or it was a simple accident, but I knew before this that Pa was murdered. And I want to know who else believes that, given they were able to change what sort of death he experienced.”
Philip looked pained. He stood up and went over to the writing desk, which was up against the wall near the darkened window.
Arabella watched him as he opened up the desk and reached into one of the drawers, withdrawing a letter.
Then he walked back to her. Arabella stood up, unsure of what was going on. Her brother held out the letter.
“I think you should look at this,” he said quietly. “This will tell you what you need to know.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Just read it, Arabella. I think you’ll understand once you do.”
Arabella wanted to tell him that wasn’t going to happen, but she was curious as to what was in the letter. Philip’s grave expression said that it would give her answers to her questions, although she wasn’t sure how many would be answers for what she had going through her head.
Swallowing, she took the letter and held it in her trembling hands. It had her and Philip’s names on the front, in a hand she vaguely recognized.
It was from her father. But why would Philip have hidden this letter from her?
“What is this?”
“It was delivered the morning after Pa died. It was addressed to both of us, but I’ve been keeping hold of it.” Philip swallowed. “I didn’t think it would be a good idea for you to see it, especially given how distraught you were when you heard the news.”
“Stop treating me like a child, Philip.” Arabella practically snatched the letter from his hand. “What is it?”
She wasn’t prepared for what her brother said next. And the words rang in her ears long after.
“Pa’s suicide note.”