She ran all the way to their rooms but as she approached, she slowed, caution prevailing. The door to her room was still open and she went inside, as quietly as she could. The adjoining door to Alex’s room was also standing open and there was a little light emanating from in there, so she knew that she had found Clarence.
As she went through the doorway, she saw Clarence standing by the foot of the bed, with Jules held firmly in his arms, the hunting knife across the boy’s throat. A small pool of blood had formed at Clarence’s feet from the wound she had given him, although he had managed to tie a scarf of some description around it.
Jules was crying softly and shaking, his eyes shut tight.
“It’s all right, Jules,” Helen soothed. “You’re fine now, I'm here.”
Jules opened his eyes but his fear didn’t seem to lessen, nor did his tears stop. Helen stepped closer.
“I'm here now, Clarence, you can let him go.”
“Will you cooperate?”
“Yes.” She would do anything if he would let Jules go.
Although Clarence maintained eye contact with Helen, the knife at Jules throat began to dig into his neck as Clarence pulled the blade up, making Jules sob even harder.
“If you tell anyone about this, boy, I’ll kill your nanny, then your father, then your brother and finally, you. Do you understand?”
When Jules’ sobs increased, Clarence pressed the knife hard enough into his skin to draw blood.
“Do you understand!”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good boy. Step closer,” he told Helen.
Slowly she walked towards him and when she was within arm’s reach, he grabbed her hair and pulled, making her lean backwards to relieve some of the pressure.
“When I let you go, run straight back to your nursery and remember, if you tell anyone, the people you care about will die horribly.”
Clarence released the boy, and he sprinted out of the room.
“Well, it looks as if it’s just you and me,” Clarence said, pulling her hair so hard as he threw her onto the bed, that he was left with clumps of red mane in his hand.
Helen scrambled to the other end of the bed, pressing her back into the headboard and drawing her legs up in front of her.
“Now that’s not very cooperative,” he chided as he rounded the bed, limping. “But then, I was hoping that you would fight back; I owe you a little payback. First however, I want your knife.”
“I dropped it.”
“I should have kept the boy here,” Clarence muttered. “Oh well, I’ll just have to make this quick.”
Chapter Twenty Six
As Alex rounded the corner into the nursery, he slipped on something and almost fell. He put his hand down and his fingers came away wet and in the (admittedly poor) light from the nursery fire, it looked like blood.
He looked around and saw Edith sitting with her back to one of the beds, holding her head; both boys’ beds were empty.
“Edith,” he kneeled in front of her. “Where are Joe and Jules?”
“I… I don’t know.” Her eyes looked out of focus. “I came to check on them when I heard about the fire. Joe wasn’t here but Jules was and I tried to comfort him before we went looking for Joe then... I can’t remember what happened after that.”
“Is that your blood in the doorway?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“Can you walk?”
“Yes.”
“Then get down to the kitchen and hold a cold cloth to that head wound. I have to find Jules and Joe.”
“I understand.” She seemed to become more compos mentis as they spoke. “Go.”
Alex paused only to light a candle on the fire and then, shielding the flame with his hand, used it to follow the blood trail.
His heart began to beat faster as he neared their room, knowing that he was probably too late. Just as he entered Helen’s room, Jules ran into him. Alex dropped the candle and scooped Jules into his arms, clamping a hand over his mouth as he stamped out the candle flame, before carrying the boy out into the hallway. Jules kicked and fought until Alex whispered into his ear.
“It’s all right, it’s me. I'm going to remove my hand but I need you to stay very quiet, do you understand?”
Jules nodded and Alex slowly removed the hand from his mouth and put him on the ground.
“Run down to the kitchen; Edith will be there soon so wait for her and help her if she needs it, all right?”
Jules nodded.
“Good, now go.”
Jules ran off and Alex went into Helen’s room. He knew that the fire in his room hadn’t been lit that night, so it should be dark, meaning that Helen and Clarence had to be in there. He crept to the room as quickly as he dared and gave a silent sigh of relief as he heard Helen speak.
“I dropped it.” She said, her voice trembling in fear.
Clarence said something that Alex couldn’t hear, then, “Oh well, I’ll just have to make this quick.”
He put his head around the door and saw Clarence advancing towards Helen, with a wicked looking hunting knife in his hand.
With a primal scream of rage, he ran at Clarence.
Unfortunately, he was unarmed and his brother wasn’t. Clarence swung the knife at him but Alex managed to dodge the worst of it, although the tip grazed his upper arm. Missing the knife caused Alex to overbalance and he fell to the floor with a thud. Clarence advanced, knife raised to stab his brother.
Helen launched herself off the bed at Clarence, one hand going around his neck as the other plunged the dagger into his chest. He screamed and swiped at her hand with his knife, so she had to abandon her blade where it rested. Instead her hands went to his face and she clawed at his eyes. The knife sliced her wrist but before it could sink in too deeply, Alex had grabbed it and was holding that arm away from Helen.
With Clarence thrashing about so much, Helen couldn’t maintain her grip and as she slipped off his back, her fingernails gouged into his flesh as she tried not to let go. She landed in a heap on the floor.
Clarence began stumbling about, crying in agony, his hands over his wounded eyes and unable to see. He tripped over Helen’s legs and fell hard.
Seeing her chance, Helen grabbed the dagger in his chest and tore it out, stabbing him again and again, until she broke down sobbing.
Alex watched in case Clarence was still a threat and while he did try to push her away, he had lost his knife in the fall and he couldn’t see well enough to strike her. Alex didn’t try to stop her, and he doubted that any court in the land would convict her. When her anger subsided, he took her into his arms and held her while she cried.
They stayed like that for a long while, both too overwhelmed to speak.
Finally Graves appeared, a ceremonial sword from the dining room wall in his hands, having been begged by Joe numerous times to check on Helen and his father.
“Are you all right, Your Graces?”
They pulled apart and looked down on Clarence’s battered and bloody body.
“No,” Helen answered. “But we will be.”
“I’ll see to her injuries,” Alex assured him. He knew that none were life-threatening or he would have acted sooner. “Where is Joe?”
“Safe in Mrs Watson’s sitting room,” he assured them.
“And the fire?” Helen asked.
“It’s still alight but we appear to have contained it to the library. The fire engine from the town finally reached us and we are refilling the cistern with the buckets. By pumping the water, we have been able to get it much higher, saturating the roof as well as the walls. We shall keep dousing until the flames have burned out.”
“We should help,” Helen said, making to get to her feet but Alex took her hands and held her still.
“You should stay here and have your wounds seen to,” Alex argued.
“You should both remain here,” Graves stated. “We have things well under control. When the townsfolk r
eturn the fire hose to the town, I will ask them to send the Magistrate and Coroner to us.”
“Very well.” Alex nodded, helping Helen to her feet. “Lock these doors, would you, Graves, so no one happens upon… him.”
“Of course.”
“And thank you.”
“My pleasure, Your Grace.”
Chapter Twenty Seven
They went to the kitchen to treat Helen’s wounds, both because the boys were down there, and because it had the most light to see by.
They collected Joe from Mrs Watson’s sitting room on their way, and found him looking worried and contrite.
They sat silently for a while, as Alex cleaned and bandaged Jules’ and Helen’s wounds. Edith warmed some milk for the boys when Alex was finished, which Helen used to make hot chocolate and served a mug to each of the boys, Alex, Edith and herself. Then she cleaned and dressed the cut on Alex’s arm.
When she was done, Alex turned to Joe.
“So,” he began, as calmly as he was able. “What were you trying to tell me earlier?”
Joe didn’t answer, just kept his gaze focused on his mug of chocolate, his hands wrapped around it, as though for warmth.
“I won’t be angry, Joe, I promise.”
“He’s dead,” Helen suddenly said, and Alex realised that he hadn’t thought to actually say those words.
Joe stared at Helen for a few long moments. “Really?”
“I killed him myself.”
“And I watched.” Alex added. “He is dead, he can’t hurt you any longer. I promise.”
Joe nodded his understanding, although he couldn’t look at his father, and so chose to stare into his mug again.
“He said he’d kill you,” Joe finally began to tell his story. “You and Edith and Rose. I couldn’t tell you.”
“Tell me what?” Alex asked gently.
“I saw it.” He took a big gulp of hot chocolate, almost as if it would give him the Dutch courage to continue. “I had a nightmare and wanted Mama, so I went to her room. I know I wasn’t supposed to leave the nursery but I wanted to see her. She wasn’t upset but when someone knocked on her door later, I was frightened. I didn’t want Nanny or Miss Bayer to find out that I wasn’t in bed, so I hid under the covers.”
He stopped then and no one prompted him to continue, although Alex reached across the table and took one of his hands.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that.”
“He told her that he needed to speak with her urgently and she let him in, then I heard this great thud and Mama didn’t talk again. I thought I heard him leave then and went to see if Mama was all right but she wasn’t moving. He had only gone into the dressing room though and caught me.”
He began to cry, large tears rolling down his cheeks.
“He put his hands around my neck and told me that if I said anything to anyone, he would kill them too, then all the people I loved, then me last.”
“He said that to me too,” Jules said in a small voice.
“I didn’t want you to die too, Papa. So I crept back to bed before they missed me and pretended to sleep.”
Alex could understand the reason for his hostility for the past two years. Alex was supposed to protect Joe and Emma but without knowing what to protect them from, he couldn’t. He had failed them, even if it wasn’t his fault. Added to that, Joe was worried about losing his other parent, so he had kept his distance just in case, unwilling to endure more pain if his father did die.
Finally, although there was nothing he could have done, he was probably feeling guilty about hiding and not protecting his mother and sometimes, anger such as that was projected outwards.
Alex went around the table and pulled Joe into his arms.
“I’m so sorry, Joe,” he said, holding him tightly as his tears became sobs that wracked his whole body. When he was cried out, at least for now, Alex sat him back at the table and took the seat beside him.
“That’s why you’ve been following me around ever since the family crest fell,” Helen reasoned. “You couldn’t tell us what you knew but you wanted to protect me.”
Joe nodded.
She reached across for his hand and squeezed it. “If it wasn’t for you, I would probably be dead by now. If your father hadn’t come in just when he did, I doubt I could have fought him off alone. Thank you.”
Joe gave her a slight smile, proud that he had been able to help.
“I tried to fight him too,” Jules offered. “I kicked and I screamed when he took me but no one heard. Edith was sleeping on the floor, which is a funny place to sleep, but even she didn’t wake up.”
“You are both very brave young men,” Alex assured them.
When the boys grew tired once again, Helen went with Edith to put them back to bed, while Alex went out to see how the fire was doing, arranging to meet back in the kitchen when they were both finished; neither wanted to be in the room next to Clarence.
The fire pump was indeed doing a good job of dousing the existing structure in water, so good in fact, that they were now attempting to put the fire itself out. He spoke to the man in charge of operating the hand pump who assured him that the fire would be out in no time now, and the ashes would be thoroughly doused to prevent a re-ignition.
Alex thanked him and assured him that the volunteers who manned the pump, would be receiving a healthy reward for their troubles. Then, anxious for more answers, he returned to Helen.
Some of the staff, mainly the women, were starting to drift back inside now that the flames were almost out and Alex took the chance to speak with Mrs Watson. He told her to thank the staff for their help and ensure that they each had an additional two days off over the next month, as well as a bonus in their next pay packet. He also said that tomorrow’s meals and duties should be kept to a minimum, as everyone would need to catch up on their rest and told her to hire temporary help from the town if necessary.
His mother would probably raise merry hell over being served cold meals, but he couldn’t find the will to care. It hadn’t escaped his notice that while Rose, Anna and Jane were among those helping to pass the pails of water, his mother was notable only by her absence.
Helen still hadn’t returned when he was finished, so he took the opportunity to wash, using Graves sitting room for privacy and Mrs Watson fetched him some clean clothes from the laundry. They were dry although not ironed, but he wasn’t about to send anyone into his bedroom for pressed clothes, not while Clarence still lay there.
When Helen returned, she looked as weary as he felt, but the night wasn’t over yet and they headed for Alex’s study, where they could talk in private.
They sat on the sofa by the fireplace as Helen explained the disjointed information that Clarence had given her. Alex listened, seemingly impassive, save for the fact that his expression became more and more dejected as she went on.
“I saw it with my own eyes and I still can’t believe it,” Alex said when Helen had explained as much as she could. “We grew up together.”
Helen didn’t know how to comfort him so settled for holding his hand.
“He had a slight cruel streak as a child, he liked to tease the ratting dogs sometimes, but I thought he had grown out of that.”
“Or he just learned to hide it.”
“But we grew up together,” Alex repeated.
“Did you really though? Or were you sent off to school when you were ten years old? Even when Clarence joined you, he would have been in a different year and housed in a different dormitory.”
Alex nodded.
“And boarding schools are hard on children,” Helen continued, and he realised that her step-brother had probably attended such a school. “Being there, surrounded by masters who like the cane and boys with a ‘might is right’ mentality, probably just showed him how to best hide his predilections.”
“That doesn’t make this any easier to accept.”
“I know.” Helen got up from the sofa and poured them both a heal
thy measure of brandy from his decanters, handing him a glass as she sat down next to him. “I don’t suppose you will ever truly understand why he behaved the way he did, or how he hid such insanity so well for so long, but it will get easier.”
“I still cannot believe what he put Joe through. Now that I think about it, he has been more surly with Clarence than with anyone else, even me, but I just didn’t think much about it. I was more concerned about why he hated me.”
“As is normal. Alex, you didn’t do anything wrong here. I know that you feel guilty and believe that there is something more that you could have done to stop this, but there wasn’t anything. Even I, an impartial observer, couldn’t see the evil in Clarence. He was a very skilled liar and right now, we should be thankful that his reign of terror and distrust is over, and start looking to the future.”
“You’re right, I know you’re right.” He just couldn’t see how to move forward yet, a fact attested to by his miserable tone.
“Things will sort themselves out in time,” she assured him. “Right now we just need to focus on the boys; they have both been through an ordeal.”
Alex nodded his agreement and sipped his brandy. It did help calm him somewhat, but it also made him tired. It was nearly dawn and neither of them had slept a wink.
“And try to look on the bright side,” Helen cajoled.
“Is there a bright side?”
“Your uncle can be arrested now. The estate, what’s left of it, will be yours to run as you see fit. Everyone who loved Emma will finally know what happened to her, and your mother’s hypocrisy has been revealed for all the world to see.”
Alex found a smile from somewhere. “I don’t deserve you, you know.”
“Nonsense!”
He was surprised by her sharp tone and turned to her. She took hold of both his hands before she continued.
“You are a good man, Alex, and more than worthy of my love. I don’t ever want to hear you say anything like that again, all right? You mean the world to me and I'm sorry that you grew up with such a bad family. The fact that you are such a good man despite such awful role models, is a minor miracle as far as I’m concerned, and you should be proud of that.”
Love, Lies and Murder Page 24
