by Alec, Joyce
“I do apologize, Jonathan, for the intrusion, and for the belief that I am dead and buried, but believe me, I have had a good reason for doing so,” Francis continued, as Henry sank into a chair. “I found, much to my relief, that I could trust my sister and Lord Sharpe, and it has been their assistance in this matter that has led me to my final conclusion.”
Henry was staring up at Francis in horror, his face a horrible shade of grey. “You died,” he whispered, his hands white as he gripped the arms of the chair. “I saw your body in the coffin.”
Francis nodded. “You did,” he said quietly. “I did not know then what I know now, and had I done so, I might have feared that you would stab me for good measure.”
Julianna felt as though she had been thrown back into her chair. “Stabbed?” she whispered, looking at Francis in horror. “Henry?”
Francis nodded slowly, his expression grim. “I did not want to have to say this, but the truth is that Henry was the one responsible for Mr. Carmichael’s death. It was he that paid those three men to stand up in court and accuse me of crimes I did not commit.” His eyes flicked around the table, his face resolute. “And now, I fear, he was attempting to do away with you also, Jonathan.”
Julianna saw her brother open and shut his mouth, staring at Francis in evident confusion. Jonathan had not said a word since Francis had appeared, evidently quite overcome with the shock of what he was seeing. She pressed Lord Sharpe’s hand under the table, struggling to contain all that she was thinking and feeling. Henry! Henry was the one responsible, not Francis. But why? Why had he done such a thing?
“That day at Lord Thurston’s home,” Lord Sharpe murmured, an expression of understanding on his face. “Those men were describing Henry Newton.”
Francis gave a jerky nod, as though this truth was as painful for him to say as for Julianna to hear. “I have had a year to go into the depths and the intricacies of the events surrounding my supposed crimes and subsequent conviction, but without your help in finding those three men and bringing them to the marquess’s house, then I might never have found the truth.” He gave Lord Sharpe a tight smile. “Yes, I was waiting outside the house and followed those men. I ensured they gave me a very good description of the fellow who had told them to do such a terrible thing as lie before God and man. Whilst that description could have been any number of men, I already had the suspicion that Henry was the one involved in it all.” He shook his head, looking almost despairing. “I knew that Henry had hated me for some time, ever since our father’s will was read out. I knew that he detested the fact that I was to have more of a fortune than he, and that you, Jonathan, were to have the greatest amount as the new Baron Hollard.” He stepped away from Henry and towards Julianna, who felt as though she were quite unable to get her breath.
“But that does not give me a good reason to murder,” Henry snapped, a little color returning to his cheeks. “This is all nonsense.”
“If only it was,” Francis replied softly, his tone close to mournful. “I had a year, Henry. A year to think and consider and wonder who would try to ruin me so terribly, who would try to push me towards the gallows. The only person I could think of was you.”
“But why?” Julianna asked, her voice tremulous. “For what reason?”
There was a short silence, as though Francis were giving them the opportunity to consider the matter for themselves.
“Because,” Jonathan said eventually. “Because he wants what we have. What you have and then, in the end, what I have.”
Julianna swallowed hard, her throat aching terribly. She could see now that such a statement could be quite true, and as much as she did not want to admit it, she knew that this was the only reasonable explanation.
“You felt wronged, Henry,” Francis said, addressing his younger brother. “You, as the third son, were given the smallest share. You rebelled against that; you grew bitter and cold. In the end, after it had eaten away at your heart, you decided to get what you could never possibly hope to have on your own: a title and the entirety of our father’s fortune.”
“And so, you tried to have Francis convicted of things he did not do,” Julianna whispered, her vision blurring with tears as she saw how Henry’s head had sunk down low. “Francis pretended to take his life so that he might have the opportunity to discover who it was that had done such a terrible thing, and the answer has turned out to be you, Henry.”
Lord Sharpe pulled his chair closer to her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders in support. “And that is why you believe the port is poisoned, Francis? Because in order to gain the title, both you and Baron Hollard would have to die.”
Francis nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on his younger brother. “Yes, that is so,” he said sadly. “The more I suspected Henry, the more concerned I became for Jonathan.”
A sudden thought struck Julianna between the eyes. “You wrote the letter to Hollard, begging him to come here!” she exclaimed, pointing one finger at Henry. “You wrote pretending that it was I who required Holland’s aid, so that you might bring him here in order to do him in.”
Henry’s head slowly began to lift, his eyes dark and malevolent. “And I was very close to succeeding,” he said softly, his admitting to such a terrible crime seeming to mean nothing to him. “I thought I could trust Mr. Carmichael; I thought I would have an ally in my search for justice, but he turned his back on me.” His jaw jutted forward, his eyes glittering with dark intent. “It was too easy to arrange, Francis. Much too easy. I knew where you were to be; I knew that you would rush to any sort of commotion. Mr. Carmichael was much too easily led, believing that I was meeting him so that I might set things right, but he was just a pawn to be used as I pleased.” He rose to his feet, his expression almost triumphant. “It was all so very easy, Francis.”
“I can hardly believe this,” Jonathan muttered, as Julianna began to sob, her heart broken. “Henry, how could you?”
Henry laughed harshly. “As I said, brother, I care nothing for this family. I seek justice for myself, to gain the fortune that I was always meant to have.”
“Our father was more than generous—”
“To you!” Henry shouted, slamming his hand down on the table. “But I was given the least, only due to the accident of my birth. But it seems I am to be denied by my own family, yet again. How very unsurprising.”
Julianna shook her head. “I saw you in the park that day with Lady Chiders, Henry,” she said softly, as tears began to flood her eyes. “You are still continuing along the same path. You stole from her. How many others have there been? How many crimes have you committed, simply in order to further yourself?”
Henry sneered at her, standing tall now as though he were above them all. His expression grew darker still, his face holding an evil that Julianna had to turn away from, burying her face in Lord Sharpe’s shoulder. “I will do whatever I have to in order to gain what I require,” he stated, before turning on his heel.
“Do not even think about—”
The sound of running feet and a slammed door brought t Julianna’s head up from Lord Sharpe’s shoulder, staring at the closed door in horror. Francis and Jonathan were gone in a moment, chasing after the brother that had tried to kill them both.
“It is over,” Lord Sharpe said softly, holding her close. “It is over, my dear Julianna. It will be painful for a time, and the scars will remain with you always, but for now, the truth has come out and the matter is at an end.”
She looked up at him, seeing the love in his eyes. “Hold me close to you,” she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder. “I do not want to be without you for even a moment.”
Lord Sharpe obliged immediately, holding her tightly in his protective embrace, whilst Julianna cried quietly into his neck.
Epilogue
“He has been acquitted.”
Julianna looked up from her writing desk, rising quickly to greet her husband. It was now six months since Henry’s confession, six months since Fr
ancis had returned from the grave.
Lord Sharpe held her close for a moment before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “It is over, my dear. Francis will be able to return to society now.”
She nodded, her heart still aching with what had occurred. “I am so very glad to hear it.”
He kissed her cheek, his hands reaching up to frame her face. “London will be aflame with the news,” he said with a wry smile. “Should you like to return home, my dear? I would be glad of the countryside’s peace and quiet, I think.”
A smile crept across her face, her heart filling with love for her husband who knew her so well and cared for her so deeply. “Yes, I think I should like that very much, Sharpe,” she said softly. They had only come to London to support Francis and Baron Holland in removing the blame from Francis’s shoulders, even though in doing so, they had to set the guilt solely on Henry. However, Henry had been sent to the continent by Baron Holland, under strict guard, where he would have no other choice but to work hard for the rest of his days. There would be no return to England for Henry, but neither would there be the gallows. It was a bittersweet thought; for as much as she knew Henry deserved to bear the consequences of his crimes, he was still her brother.
“Francis and Holland will join us for dinner this evening,” her husband said, drawing her attention back to him. “A celebration in a way.”
She reached for him, her arms about his neck, feeling a peace settle over her heart. A peace that had been missing for a good few years. “That is a wonderful idea, my dear. Thank you. You are truly the most considerate gentleman I have ever known.”
“That is only because you have made me so,” he replied softly, looking deeply into her eyes. “Before I met you, Julianna, I had no thought of marriage, no thought of love or affection or anything of the sort.” He smiled, touching her cheek gently. “But now I confess to you that I am happier than I have ever been before. You have made my life complete, Julianna. With this burden gone, we can look to our future without restraint. I can think of nothing better than spending each and every day by your side.”
Smiling up at him, her heart filled with love, Julianna pulled herself even closer to him. “I love you, Sharpe,” she whispered, as he began to lower his head.
“And I love you, my dear Julianna,” he replied, before kissing her gently.
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